I stood and scanned the room. It sure didn’t look like a hostage chamber. It was easy to see the wooden-framed bed was new, the sheets crisp and clean. The sun peeked inside, lighting a little more of the room with every passing minute.
Cautiously, I started to move around. A white chest of drawers stood by the wall, a dressing table next to it. As I moved closer, seeing what was placed on top of it, my heart slowly crept up my throat, choking me. My hairbrush, my pale pink make-up bag, three hairbands, and a bottle of the exact brand of perfume I used—Armani Code. It was there. It was all there.
Jesus. What the fuck was this?
I reached out, wanting to touch it, inspect it, wondering if it really was mine, or just exact replicas. But my hand couldn’t stop shaking, so I pulled back. This was too surreal. Fucking insane.
The door unlocked, and my gaze cut across the room. I recognized him the minute he appeared. It was the man who held the gun. The man who shot the guy who’d had his weapon against my head. The man who could have killed me if he had missed the shot. It made my stomach turn to think how easily he had taken a life—even if it was to save mine.
“How you feeling?”
In the light, I immediately saw the similarities between him and my stranger in the dark. Only he looked slightly different, with light, shoulder-length hair and a well-groomed beard. But he was in no way less threatening.
“Who are you?” The words just slipped out.
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him with his foot. “I’m Onyx.”
I glanced down at his cut. Vice president. The tag beneath, Blood Brothers.
“My brother said to bring you something to eat.” He tossed a paper bag on the bed. “So…eat.”
Frozen on the spot, I looked from the paper bag to him. “Is your brother the man who was here earlier?”
“Well, that depends.” He sat on the chair in the corner, leaning back, legs spread. “Was this man about as tall as me, broad shoulders, messy hair, shitty attitude?”
I remained silent, giving a slight nod.
He raised an eyebrow. “Then, yes, that would be my brother.”
Staring at him warily, I kept seeing this image in my head of him with the gun in his hand, determined to shoot while I was in the crossfire. I remembered thinking his bullet would surely end up in my chest. Fear didn’t spread like an icy chill down my spine. It didn’t cause my heartrate to spike or make it difficult to breathe. It was numbing, deadening, making me feel…nothing.
Onyx kept staring at me, moving his legs up and down as he leisurely leaned in the chair. “You okay?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“No. But you seem a little pale.” The grin on his face was all sarcasm.
“You killed a man.”
He snorted. “You’ll need to be more specific. I’ve killed a lot of people, sweetheart.”
“The guy who held me as a shield. You shot him.”
He nodded with a smirk on his face. “Hence the reason you’re here today, alive and breathing. A thank you would suffice.”
I lightly shook my head at his arrogance. “Thank you for saving me, and then kidnapping me again.”
“Well,” he slapped his hands on his knees and got up from his seat, “it’s my pleasure. Now eat your food and behave.” He winked at me, making it clear there was nothing wrong with his confidence.
And judging by how chuffed he seemed with himself, killing people was something to be proud of around here. It made me even more aware of how much danger I was really in.
“Why am I here?”
Onyx stopped then turned to face me again. “That, you’ll have to ask Granite.”
“Granite?”
“My brother. He’s the only one who can answer your questions. I’m not on his current favorites list, so the last thing I need is to piss him off by saying shit I shouldn’t.”