Bad Intentions by Tara Wyatt

20

“What the fuck do you mean, she’s gone?” Lucian pushed a hand through his hair, panic soaring through him, clamping around his lungs like a vise. He looked around his penthouse, his eyes jumping from one spot to the next as though he might find her in here and that what Killian was telling him would turn out to be completely wrong.

“I went to the bathroom and when I came out she was gone. Just…fucking gone,” said Killian. Lucian could hear the anguish in his voice, but Killian’s guilt over letting Olivia disappear didn’t make him feel any better. Not one fucking bit.

Massimo had her. He’d disappeared for weeks, and now he had her. There was no other explanation.

But he wouldn’t for long. Soon, he’d be dead. He’d get Liv back and put a bullet in that fucker. That was the only way this could play out. The only way he’d let himself imagine it playing out. Other emotions tried to surface—panic, fear, guilt, blame—but he shoved them all down deep and pulled out his pack of Dunhills. Right now, he needed to be the coldblooded asshole everyone was afraid of.

“Round up a crew. We’re going to get her back and put an end to this shit.”

“On it.”

He disconnected from Killian and immediately dialed Sasha, putting it on speakerphone while he slid a cigarette out of the pack. As he did, a scrap of paper fell out, landing on the kitchen island.

Please quit. I love you. – O

He let out a shaky breath, slipping the note into his pocket, then jamming a cigarette into his mouth.

“What’s up?” asked Sasha.

“I need you to track Olivia. Massimo has her.”

A string of Russian curses came through the phone and Lucian took a long drag on his cigarette. “Was she wearing the earrings today?”

“She was. She wears them every day.”

“Okay. Hang on.” He heard the sound of fingers flying over keys for several seconds that seemed to stretch on forever. “Got her. Moving up 6^th Ave. Fast. Might be heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.”

Lucian nodded, blowing out a long stream of smoke and moving into his bedroom. His heart clenched at the little traces of Olivia everywhere. The bottle of lotion on her bedside table. A pair of her heels in the corner. Her hairbrush sitting on the dresser. Her silky bathrobe strewn across the bed, still exactly where it had landed when he’d peeled it off her this morning.

“So he’s not taking her to the airport.” A tiny bit of relief burst through him. If he got her on a plane, all of this got a lot more complicated.

“Doesn’t look like it. Headed for Jersey, I would guess.”

“Keep an eye on her, gear up, and meet me in front of my place as soon as you can. Killian’s on his way. I’m calling Luca next. Call Ryu and tell him what’s up.”

“You got it.” A pause. “We’ll get her back, Lucian.”

“Fucking right we will,” he growled and then ended the call. With his cigarette dangling from his lips, he started gearing up, loading himself up with guns, ammo, knives. As he got ready, he dialed Luca, who answered on the first ring.

“He’s got Liv. Sasha’s tracking her and we’re going after her. Get here now.”

“On my way.” He hung up and finished getting ready, only allowing himself to focus on the grim determination coursing through him. On everything he was going to do to Massimo when he got his hands on him. And if he’d hurt Liv…fuck. He turned back and grabbed a set of spiked brass knuckles. If she had even so much as a fucking scratch on her, he was going to pay, slowly and painfully.

He headed down to the parking garage, where Killian was already waiting in one of their armored SUVs. Lucian slid into the passenger’s side, glancing over his shoulder. Two of their other guys, Mateo and Dmitri, sat in the back, geared up and ready to go. Another SUV rolled to a stop at the entrance to the parking garage and flashed its lights. Luca was behind the wheel, Sasha in the passenger seat beside him, and more guys in the back with them. Ryu zoomed up behind them on his Dodge Tomahawk, engine revving. A final SUV brought up the rear of their dangerous little caravan, filled with more men. Luca pulled out, following Sasha’s directions, and everyone fell into line as they headed for the Lincoln Tunnel.

Killian’s jaw was tight, his grip on the wheel bruising. “This is my fault,” he said, his nostrils flaring. The sun was setting, flickering between the buildings as he followed Luca and Sasha.

“What happened?” asked Lucian, lighting another cigarette.

“She was fine, looking at tiles. Front door was locked, everything was quiet, as it’s been for weeks now. I went to the can and when I came back out, she was just gone. Front door was unlocked and she was gone. Like she just walked out. I didn’t hear a fucking thing and there were no signs of struggle. She was just fucking gone.”

“He must’ve gotten her to come outside for some reason, grabbed her, shoved her in a vehicle and took off.” Nausea churned through him at the idea of Olivia shoved into some trunk, scared and alone. “It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Things were quiet for so long that we got lax. I promised her I’d keep her safe.” He ground his teeth together. If something happened to her, this was on him. No matter what, the trauma of this would always be on him.

She’d be smart to want nothing to do with him after this. After she got a taste of just how ugly his world was. The thought made his heart shudder to a stop, but he knew he needed to accept that as a possibility. He closed his eyes, focusing on what needed to be done right now. To get her back. To make sure she was safe.

They emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel and took the turnpike, heading north. Tension filled the small space of the SUV, making the silence heavy. Sasha’s voice crackled over the two-way radio.

“The signal’s stopped moving. From satellite images, looks like they’ve got her at a house on the edge of a nature reserve.”

“They’re waiting for us,” said Lucian, almost casually. “They know we’re coming.”

Killian nodded. “That’d be my guess.”

“This is going to be messy.”

“Fucking right it is,” he said grimly. “They took her. And we’re gonna get her back.”

After what felt like an eternity, the convoy rolled up to a set of massive iron gates that were sealed shut. A mansion sat behind them. Lucian’s skin felt tight and hot just knowing Liv was in there. Soon, he’d have her back and this would be over.

There was also a chance that they’d be over, but he couldn’t let himself think about that right now.

He watched as an armed guard approached Luca’s SUV. Luca’s window powered down and without hesitating, he fired two shots into the guy’s chest, sending him sprawling backwards. Sasha hopped out of the passenger’s side, gun drawn and pointed at the other guard still inside the security booth.

“Open it! Now!” he shouted. The man complied, punching in the code. As soon as the gate started swinging inward, parting in the middle, Sasha fired, a single shot to the other man’s head. He jumped back in the passenger side and they moved up to the front of the house, which was eerily quiet.

“They were both Bratva,” said Sasha over the radio. “Same tattoo as mine.”

“What the fuck is he doing with the Russians?” asked Killian, the SUV screeching to a halt.

“I don’t know. And right now, it doesn’t matter,” said Lucian. Then, over the radio, he said, “We might be walking into an ambush. We have to be smart. Organized. Pair off, no man alone. Cover each other and clear the rooms one at a time. No unnecessary shots. I don’t want her to get caught in the crossfire.”

In front of the house, everyone piled out of the SUVs, and Ryu dismounted from his massive motorcycle. Lucian looked up, scanning the windows for any sign of activity, any sign of her. But there was nothing. It almost felt as though the house was empty, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Not with those armed guards at the gate.

Massimo was inside. Waiting.

Lucian turned the knob and pushed the door open, not surprised to find it unlocked. As soon as he stepped inside, several armed men came rushing at him.

He lifted his gun and fired off several quick shots, taking out half a dozen of the men. Gunfire erupted around him, the sounds of painful grunts and moans, glass shattering, bodies thumping to the ground filling the air. The scents of gunpowder and blood hit his nostrils, pulling his focus even more sharply to the present moment.

One of Massimo’s guys ran at him, and Lucian pulled the trigger, swearing under his breath when the gun jammed. He dodged to the side as the man fired and then ran closer, close enough that Lucian could grab his arm. He broke it with a loud snap and then threw him to the ground, prying his gun from his hands and shooting him in the face.

Everyone knew they were here now, and the men were dispersing throughout the house. Luca and Sasha headed in one direction, Ryu and Dimitri in another. Killian followed Lucian farther into the house. Footsteps echoed from behind them and he turned, firing two shots at the men who’d been following them. They slumped to the ground, blood pooling quickly around them. He tossed away the shitty Beretta he’d taken from the guy who was now missing half his face and pulled his Heckler and Koch from the holster at his back.

Locking eyes with Killian, he counted to three and then pushed open a door that led to a sprawling kitchen. Before the men inside could even move, he and Killian fired, taking them all out smoothly and efficiently. More armed men filled the kitchen and Lucian and Killian ducked down behind the island to reload. Once they’d replaced their magazines, they took turns peeking out and firing. After they’d taken out several more men, the kitchen fell silent. Almost. Lucian looked over at Killian and held a finger to his lips.

Quiet footsteps reverberated through the kitchen as someone entered, clearly looking for them. As soon as he moved past the island, Lucian aimed, shooting him in the knee. He bounded up as the man’s return shot narrowly missed him. Lucian grabbed his arm and threw him down onto the island, where Killian rose up and shot him.

The sounds of gunfire and shouts still sounded through the house, but were becoming sparser and more sporadic. Lucian had lost track of how many bullets he’d fired. How many men he’d killed. He didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to Olivia and getting her the fuck out of here.

And killing that fucker Massimo.

He and Killian moved through the kitchen, now littered with bodies and puddles of blood, and emerged into a huge dining room where Massimo sat at the head of the table, eating steak and drinking wine. Olivia knelt at his feet, wearing nothing but a black lace bra and a pair of matching panties, so skimpy they were almost non-existent. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and he could see the fear and the relief tangling together there.

Rage, white hot and incandescent, poured through Lucian, and it only grew when he took in the bruise on Olivia’s cheek, her split lip, the bruising on her arm. But she was in one piece. She was alive.

Thank fuck.

Massimo took a sip of his wine and smirked at him. “I knew you’d come.” He stroked a hand over Olivia’s hair. “I told you you’d get to watch him die.”

Lucian let out a mirthless laugh. “And who’s going to kill me? You?” He laughed again. “The pile of dead bodies out there?” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen.

“My men are coming. They’re going to hold you down while I take you apart, piece by piece. While she watches.”

Lucian held his arms out at his sides. “Fine. Let them come.”

A moment passed and Massimo paled, taking another big gulp of wine. Finally, footsteps sounded through the house and he sat back in his chair grinning, his bravado back in place. “I’m going to fuck her and make you watch. Then I’m going to kill you and make her watch. Mmm. I’ve been wanting to bring you down for so long now, you arrogant fuck. This is going to be sweet.”

Several men entered the dining room—Luca, Ryu, Sasha, Dmitri, Mateo. Luca’s shirt was drenched in blood, but he grinned when Lucian met his eyes.

“Not mine,” he said.

“House is clear,” said Sasha.

It was Lucian’s turn to grin. “Good. Liv, come here.” She stood, rising gracefully from her knees. She’d only taken a step in his direction when Massimo grabbed for her, but Olivia was faster. Whirling, she snatched the steak knife from where it rested on Massimo’s plate and stabbed it into his stomach in one swift movement. Then she twisted it, leaning over him as he screamed and moaned, blood pooling rapidly on his shirt.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” She gave it a final twist before yanking it free and tossing it into the corner. She walked to Lucian with her head held high, her legs steady.

Holy fuck. Heat and pride nearly overwhelmed him as Massimo sputtered behind her. Quickly, he unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it off, wrapping it around her. Then, once she was covered, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “Not badly. He’s mostly talk.”

He held her away from him and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth, mindful of her injured lip. He looked her up and down, needing to make sure that she was really, truly okay.

God. He’d never been so relieved in his life.

“Killian, get her out of here. She doesn’t need to see this.” He had plans for Massimo, plans that he didn’t intend to subject Olivia to. When she hesitated, he kissed her forehead. “Go.”

She nodded and turned to Killian, who tucked her into his side, keeping her close. Ryu left with Killian and Olivia, leaving Massimo alone with Lucian, Sasha, and Luca.

Lucian turned to his brothers in arms, men who’d just risked their lives to save the woman he loved. “Let’s send a message about what happens when someone hurts innocent people,” he said, and they all moved in on Massimo.