Hate Fuck Part Three (2 page)

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Authors: Ainsley Booth

BOOK: Hate Fuck Part Three
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“Who are you?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“I’m Kimber,” the creepy sweet one says softly as she starts to comb my hair. “And that’s Regan. She’s annoyed because we didn’t include her in your rescue.”

“Rescue?” I almost choke on the word.

She leans over and licks my earlobe. Bile rises in my throat and I force myself not to react. “Your boyfriend is a lousy lay. The Master will take much better care of you.”

If I wasn’t naked and there wasn’t a gun pointed at me right now, I’d kill her.

So this is how good and bad fade to shades of gray.

Shaking, I stand when told to, and tell the normal, embarrassed part of my soul to curl up in a little ball and cover its ears.
This is like a doctor’s visit or a sorority initiation.
Nothing can hurt me if I’m not available to be hurt. Good Hailey cowers in the pit of my stomach, but somehow my legs are walking and my head is holding itself high.

I repeat all points of orientation to myself ten times in quick succession. The room we’ve just left, it faced west. The sun was bright, and sinking but still high, so it’s mid-afternoon. There are—holy shit. Many bedrooms on this level. Eight doors that I can see. The tile floor is cool beneath my feet, but it means that everything echoes. Maybe I can use that.

How, Hailey? With your advanced knitting skills?
Fuck, I don’t know. Panic swells in my chest and I shove back against it.

That won’t do any good.
 

Regan turns to me as we reach another hallway, one that leads outside at one end, and she sneers. “Just remember, it hurts more if you’re not turned on. Find something to like about it.”

I don’t know if she’s telling the truth, or if she’s trying to play with my mind, but if she is, it works. My knees give out and they scramble to catch me as I drop.

I’ve never been so happy about being heavy in my entire life, because they can’t. Regan’s gun skitters across the tile as I scramble away from them, and I’m on it before she is. I don’t really know how this thing works, but I point it at her and pull the trigger, because nobody is going to fucking rape me today if I have anything to say about it.

It feels like I’ve been punched in the hand and my arm swings wildly in the air, the force of the shot sending me back a foot.

Regan gapes at me as she looks down at her chest, where a big red spot is blooming, then she collapses just as the hallway fills with people.

My mind blanks as I stare at her body.
I just shot someone
. Thunder rushes through my head and my hands slick with sweat. I’m hot and cold. Killer and prey.

I stumble backwards, running into Kimber, and she screams, which makes me scream, but then I remember I have the gun. So I put it to her head, and twist around her body, making her my shield.

I’m breathing so fast I think it’s possible I might pass out soon, but before I do, I want to get some clothes on and maybe find a boat or a panic room or something.

This is a lot harder than it looks in the movies—doubly so because I don’t even watch these kinds of movies.

Who knew I’d need to star in my own horror film?

“Ms. Reid,” a confident, warm voice says from behind the swarm of men, and as they part, I see Gerome Lively step forward.

After that Vanity Fair reporter mentioned him, and I knew Cole was working on something related to him…I did some Googling.

I even went into the dark corners of the Internet that Cole would rather pretend I don’t know about.

Revulsion rises in me. This man had me kidnapped. Planned to rape me—or let his friends rape me. All because of Cole, or my father, or both of them. Nothing to do with me.

“You don’t want to do this,” he says, fake charm oozing off him.

“I don’t know what you think I want to do, but—” my voice cracks, and I tighten my grip around Kimber’s neck, making her groan. “Shut up, bitch. You stabbed me with a fucking needle. On his order?”

She cries, and maybe she would nod, but she can’t move her head.

I twist the gun toward Lively, my hand shaking. “Get out of my way.”

“You’re not going anywhere. This is silly.”

I fire at him without waiting for another word, but unlike the point blank range where hitting Regan was easy, this bullet ricochets off the ceiling.

His cool demeanour slips a bit and he steps into a hallway or a nook, something just off this corridor, and he waves his goons back, too.

“Not good enough,” I scream, losing my shit now. Good. Maybe scary Hailey can kick some ass, because scared Hailey isn’t doing so well. “Get out of this hallway!”

They slip away, and I edge Kimber forward, painfully aware that my naked butt is hanging out behind me and I have no clue where I am or what’s between me and freedom. Or even what direction freedom might be in.

“Where are they going?” I hiss in her ear, and she gurgles at me.

Oops. Strangling a hostage…never a good idea. I ease up enough to give her some air, but it’s a total waste. “You’ll never escape,” she wheezes and I roll my eyes.

Maybe not, but if I go down, I go down fighting.

I didn’t know I had that in me, but apparently I do.

I’m still shaking and ready to pee myself, but I push us forward. The outside that I’d glimpsed at the end of the hall looks like it’s actually a second or third story balcony. Maybe not my first choice. But before we get there, the hall opens up to the right to a large common room.

Where Lively is waiting with what looks like a small army.

Okay, maybe it’s just six guys. Or eight. I can’t count.

I can’t
think
.
 

“I told you this is silly, Hailey,” Lively says, smooth as poisoned silk. “Because of the special relationship I have with your father, I’ll forgive you this indiscretion. I should have welcomed you to the island myself. I apologize.”

I stare at him, dumbstruck. I just killed a woman. I’m holding another one hostage. I’m buck-fucking-naked, and he’s talking to me like he’s just been a bad host for a weekend away.

My skin crawls as it dawns on me that maybe this is all this is to him. Murder? No big deal. Drama? He eats hostages for lunch.

That shallow breathing thing gets me again, and I wobble on the spot.
Damnit
. I was so close, and now it’s all slipping away.

Literally, as one of his armed guards approaches and my hand shakes too hard to pull the damn trigger.
No!
I did it twice, I can do it again…

But I can’t. Hot tears splash on my cheeks as I realize I’m done for. Kimber is wrenched from my arms, and as the guard takes the gun from me, twisting my arms behind my back, the window shatters and he drops to the ground.

I stare at him for a second—because
I
didn’t just shoot him, and then I know.
 

I feel Cole the second the doors crack open. He’s like a hot Caribbean wind, swirling in, wrapping around me, ready to suck me back out again. Because I’m his, even from across the room with a dozen bad guys in between.

And like a hurricane, he’s an unstoppable force, taking out the two men closest to him with his bare hands, then shooting the guards at the other entrances.

Behind him, a man I don’t know comes in, and Cole issues him terse commands as he sprints toward me, reaching me at the same time Lively does.

—three—
 

Cole

Hailey calls out my name, and for a split second, I can’t see anyone else.
 

I leave the round-up of the incapacitated men to Harry and his helicopter pilot friend, who, it turns out, is ex-military and far more switched on than Harry is. And right now, they just need to hold rifles straight.

It takes me three seconds to cross the room and get my shirt off and around her naked form. Another millisecond to realize that Lively has a gun, and it’s pointed at my head. I drop, swinging my leg around in a vicious sweep that brings him down, then I’m on him like a cage fighter.

“Break into my house and attack me? Prison orange will look good on you—” I slam my fist into his jaw.

“Deluded motherfucker,” I growl. “You think you can stop us? You’re the one going to prison. And any other guests you’ve got here, too. Every single last one of you will fry for taking her.”

Lively sneers up at me. “At least she was a decent fuck. Chubby girls are always gagging for it.”

Slamming his head into the ground isn’t nearly as satisfying as I want it to be. I drag him back up onto his knees. Seeing the blood drip from his battered nose onto his pristine tennis whites? The snot and tears as he gags on his pain?

That’s better.

I zip-tie his wrists, then haul Hailey against me.

“Beautiful,” I rasp.

“I’m okay,” she says, her chest heaving and her body shaking. Her hands scrabble at the sleeveless shirt I’m left in.

“He had you naked.”

“Just that. He didn’t…what he said…” She starts crying. “I shot someone. In the hallway.”

“Good girl.”

“I knew you’d come, but I didn’t…I couldn’t let him…”

“I know. You did the right thing.” I kiss the top of her head, and look across to Harry. “You guys should call this in, then get the hell out of here.”

“How many people are you going to get tangled in the law with you today, Cole?” a familiar, disappointed voice says from the terrace we just came in from. Jason steps into view and nods at Harry and his friend, gesturing for them to scram. “Step away from Lively.”

“Fuck off, Jason. If I was going to kill him, I already would have.” I cock my pistol and jam it into Lively’s temple, just for fun. “Or maybe I still will.” I glare at my best friend.

“He isn’t worth it. And the Feds are two minutes behind me, so how about you let him be arrested without incident, yeah?”

I set my jaw and grit my teeth. He’s right. I’m not acting under the protection of any arm of the US Government. We might be on a private island, but the Bahamian police would arrest me for murder in a heartbeat.

And I’m no longer the guy who doesn’t give a fuck about that.

Jason looks at me, then back at Lively. He slowly turns and slides his Glock into its holster. “Put it away, brother.”

I kick Lively hard in the back, making him fall forward onto the tile floor. I stand there, seething, my boot on his spine, my weapons securely tucked away as men in windbreakers and hats clearly labelled as the good guys swarm the room.

Hailey cries as I’m handcuffed and shoved against the wall, but I know this is the easy part. They’re just securing everyone. Ten minutes, tops, and I’ll have her in my arms.

It’s only eight, and it feels like a lifetime.

A female officer brings her a blanket, which gives her more coverage than my shirt, and I pull her closer.

But she’s in shock—there’s no embrace tight enough to hold her together right now. And that’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world to make this better.

It’s late when we’re escorted onto a US Coast Guard vessel. I still don’t know how Jason arrived, but he smoothed over a lot with the Feds and now, as we head back to Florida, I know something needs to be said.

But there’s a lot of other stuff that’s already been said, and one good day of making bad people pay doesn’t negate all the shit that’s come up between us in the last while.

So I stick with something safe. “How were you so sure I wasn’t going to shoot him?”

“We’ve got our problems, but you’ve never been as far on the wrong side of right as you think you’ve been.”

I’m tired, and I ache in a million different ways. “That doesn’t make an ounce of sense.”

“It does to me,” Hailey murmurs, tightening her grip around my waist. “You saved the day.”

I stare over her head at Jason. We both know that it’s only the day that I’ve saved. Lively still has a million ways to get out of this.

When Hailey falls asleep, wrapped up in a fleece blanket and three layers of FBI-branded clothing, Jason clears his throat. “You know what he’s going to do.”

“He’d hire us, if we were available. So we need to figure out who he’ll go to.”

He nodded. “Wilson was already watching for noise in that direction before I left. We didn’t know how fast you’d get to her.”

“Not as fast as I wanted. Turns out your brother’s pilot has a conscience and so do his friends. They made me verify a bunch of shit and make sure we were properly armed before taking off, and we did a couple of high passes before figuring out where to land.”

“Safety bullshit?” He laughs with me, but it feels damn hollow.

“I did this to her,” I say roughly, looking down at the woman I love. Whose safety I’d risked without even thinking about it.

“You didn’t know he was watching us. None of us did. Wilson is beside himself with guilt. You’re not alone in feeling like you failed her.” He grimaces. “But your girl…she’s tough.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll get him.”


I
will.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “This should be a team effort.”

“Some of it will be.”

But before I leave Miami, there are some conversations in the shadows that need to happen, to ensure Hailey’s never touched, ever again.

—four—
 

Hailey

I wake up as the boat docks at an official looking port in Miami.

“Shit,” I whisper. “I don’t have my passport.”

Cole laughs, holding me tight. “Really?”

“What?” I scowl at him. “Oh, ha ha, sure. Joke is on the girl who’s never been kidnapped before. You re-enter the county, you need your passport.”

“First of all, beautiful, your passport will be waiting for you in there. And second…come here.” He pulls me up and kisses me on the lips. It’s soft and chaste, but it rouses my usual desire for him that constantly hums just beneath the surface. He smooths his hand over my cheek, sliding his fingers into my tangled hair. “This shouldn’t be anything but a quick bureaucratic paper stamping thing, okay? There will be a formal interview tomorrow, but we’re probably only half an hour away from a hot shower and bed. Promise.”

Twenty-four minutes later, he’s sliding a keycard into the door of a top floor downtown hotel room. We came straight up from the parking garage, driven here by a hired car, and Cole promised the room was under someone else’s name.

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