“Why don’t I just go over there and drop off a cake or something?” Linda suggested. “That way I can see if it’s your guy who answers the door.”
“No,” I growled, making sure she could see the seriousness on my face. “This isn’t just a normal man from Magnolia Grove, Linda. I’m going to handle this. What I need you to do is keep this to yourself. If anyone interferes, they could lose their lives. The man we’re dealing with doesn’t care about anyone or anything.” I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Now, please go home, Linda. I have to get to work and find Ayla.”
Linda’s face was full of defeat and worry. “Okay, I’ll go home. But what about the clinic? Someone needs to call the office and let them know Ayla won’t be there. I can at least do that, right? They’ll believe me if I tell them she’s too sick to talk on the phone.”
She had a point. Someone had to let them know so they wouldn’t be worried.
“Yes, please, do that,” I said.
“And her parents?” she added. “Do you not want them to know that their daughter has been abducted?”
I shook my head. “No. It’ll interfere with what I have to do.”
I couldn’t elaborate any further. Luckily, she nodded and hugged me. “I know you’ll find her, Declan.”
“I will,” I promised, letting her go.
And I was going to kill Vincent in the process.
Chapter 23
Ayla
My head hurt like I had nails stuck in my temples and my mouth was as dry as sandpaper. The sun shone through the blinds, which meant not much time had passed, or it was actually the next day. I didn’t have my phone and there wasn’t a clock around. All I knew was that I was in a bedroom I didn’t recognize.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and peered down at my clothes which were the same light blue scrubs I had on before. The bed was comfy, and the bedroom was quaint with yellow walls and a pink and white bedspread. The furniture was all antique with intricate carvings and a thin layer of dust. I stumbled to my feet, feeling like I had just woken up from a nightmare. As I made my wayto the door, the wooden floor creaked beneath my weight, echoing through the house. I held my breath and listened to see if I heard any movement below.
When I didn’t hear anything, I cautiously stepped out into the hallway, its walls lined with floral wallpaper. The air was a little musty, tinged with the scent of old books and flowers.
My heart raced as I made my way downstairs, each step sending a shiver down my spine. The living room was dimly lit by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through white lacy curtains. Dust danced in the rays of light, giving the room an ethereal quality.
And then I saw him—a figure sitting on the couch and reading the newspaper, his back turned to me. It was Robert Forbes, but I had a feeling that wasn’t his true identity.
“If you’re thinking of trying to escape, I’d reconsider,” he said, his voice firm and to the point. He folded up the newspaper and stood. When he turned to face me, his dark eyes went right to mine; they were cold and menacing. “You can either make this simple or difficult. I’d much rather prefer the former. I don’t want to hurt you, Ayla. All I want is Parker.”
I never thought in a million years I’d be a victim of a kidnapping, especially not by someone like him. Did it terrify me? More than anything. I’d seenplenty of mafia movies in my time. Those men were ruthless and vindictive. I didn’t want to be anywhere around them. And here I was . . . in the same room with a man who had probably murdered hundreds of people.
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly to calm my nerves.
“I know who you are,” I said. “You’re not Robert Forbes. You’re Vincent Deluca.”
His eyes glimmered darkly. “Very nice. I see that Parker has told you all about me.”
“Not really,” I replied, sounding disinterested. “I don’t want to know anything about you.”
He clasped a hand over his heart. “That hurts, Ayla. I thought we had a connection.”
I scoffed. “Never.”
Vincent stalked toward me and my insides trembled with fear. Declan may kill people for a living, but Vincent did it for pleasure. The last thing I wanted was for him to see the fear in my eyes.
When he closed the distance between us, I stared right into his dark, soulless eyes.
“You could always come to New York with me,” he offered. His hungered gaze raked down my body, and my stomach dropped. If he touched me, or tried to force himself on me, I knew I wouldn’t be able tofight him off. He was too big and strong. That revelation was terrifying. “I’d love to have you on my arm,” he said, reaching up and sliding a finger down my cheek.
I jerked my face away. “Forget it.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Even if I put aside my vendetta against your worthless FBI agent of a boyfriend? You’d still say no?”
