Unwilling Pawn by Measha Stone

Chapter 14

Amelia

The bed was cold on Christian’s side when I woke the next morning. The covers were thrown back and his pillow was wrinkled, so he’d been there.

It had been tempting to stomp into my own room and lock the door, but rational thinking won out. He probably had a key, or he’d just kick the door down to get what he wanted. I paced the bedroom for a solid hour before I changed into a nightshirt and climbed back into his bed.

At least it was comfortable. I’d fallen asleep easily and must have been dead to the world by the time he’d come upstairs. I didn’t remember him climbing in. Had he slept on the edge of his side as I had tried to do?

My body ached, and each twinge reminded me of the night before. Christian’s power had been unleashed, and I’d taken every bit of it—craving even more. If I wasn’t careful, he’d devour me whole.

I threw on pair of jeans and a shirt from my bag. I only had a few more outfits left. I needed to get back to my house and get my things. After tossing my hair into a high pony, I slipped on a pair of sandals and went downstairs.

With any luck Christian would be away from the house all day with meetings or murders, whichever his day consisted of. I might be able to get down to the community center. I needed to let them know to cancel all of my lessons. It would take them some time, but they should be able to find someone to fill my spot. Hopefully. Some of those kids were really coming along. A few had a lot of untapped potential. My father never understood why I’d give away my time like that, but he didn’t understand my love of music.

The notes were more than just sounds beat out by strings or windpipes. They were passports to another plane where I was ruler. And it was that escape I wanted to give to others.

When I entered the kitchen Mrs. Kowalski stood at the stove, plating eggs. Two of Christian’s men sat at the kitchenette guzzling orange juice and scraping their breakfast onto forks before shoveling it into their mouths.

“Amelia.” Mrs. Kowalski smiled at me when she noticed my presence. She put the plate down and wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Are you hungry? I’ll get you a plate right away.”

I put up my hands. “No, thank you. It smells wonderful, but I’m not very hungry. Maybe later?”

Her smile slipped at the edge and I felt like a complete ass. Out of everyone in this place, she’d been the warmest, the most welcoming.

“I could use a cup of coffee though.”

Her smile brightened right up. “I’ll get a pot brewing.” She picked up the plate and brought it over to the brutes, placing it front of one of them.

“Thanks,” he said, pulling the plate closer to himself. As his hand reached out for the plate, his knuckles came into view. Bruised and covered in dried blood. I looked more closely at the two men.

They were the same who’d dragged that man out of the yard the night before.

“I’ll be right back.” I gently touched Mrs. Kowalski’s shoulder as I walked past her.

“Coffee will be ready in a few minutes,” she called as I padded through the kitchen toward the dining room. The men at the table never looked up from their food to see me leaving.

The main part of the house was straightforward in design. But the east and west wings were more maze than anything. It took a few wrong turns and wrong rooms, but I finally found the door that led down to the basement.

I climbed down the steps slowly, keeping my movements quiet. Every couple of stairs, I stopped to listen for voices, but heard none. By the time I hit the bottom step, it was apparent no one was down there with me. I walked further into the room. It was chilly with the cement flooring and the concrete walls. No windows to let in any sunlight, but a single bulb swung from the ceiling, flickering as though it wasn’t going to make it much longer.

I found another hanging bulb, and pulled the string, lighting my way as I walked down the length of the room. When I reached the end, there was another door. Testing it, I found it unlocked and quickly opened it and moved inside. I fumbled around the wall until I found a switch.

The room lit up, blinding me at first until I found the dimmer and turned down the brightness. When I turned around to look at the room, I gasped.

The corners of the room slanted slightly toward the middle of the room, angling toward a drain. A chair sat empty directly over it, blood still wet on the seat and the leather back. More splatters of blood were on the floor around the feet of the chair.

The man wasn’t there, but he had been. My insides shook. What had they done? Had they killed him? Had he been tortured and murdered down here while I slept in a comfortable, luxurious bed two floors above him?

“Again, I find you where you aren’t supposed to be.” Christian’s chilled voice echoed in the small room from behind me. I hadn’t even heard the door creak open.

“Where is he?” I questioned without turning around. If I looked at him and saw the darkness lurking behind his stare, I might lose my nerve.

“Where is who?” His leather soled shoes scraped across the concrete as he stepped closer to me.

“The man from last night.” I jerked my pointed finger at the blood splatter. “The man your goons beat to a bloody pulp.” I spun on my heel, my anger, my disgust too large for me to control.

“Why do you care?” he asked, taking another step toward me. His features were schooled, cold. “You don’t know him, and he was a danger to you.”

“Danger to me?” I looked back at the blood on the floor. “I’m nobody.”

He touched my cheek, bringing me back to him. “You’re not nobody, Amelia. You’re my wife now. And my wife doesn’t belong in this room.”

“Why was he a danger to me?” I yanked away from his touch. “What happened to him?”

His eyes softened, but his jaw remained tight. He hated being questioned. Well, he would have to get used to it.

“Nothing happened to him,” he said after a long pause. “Nothing we did anyway. As far as I know he’s alive and well, but he’s not here anymore.”

“The men upstairs, they had…I mean, they were…” My train of thought derailed. “I saw their hands.”

He nodded. “My men have a lot of jobs. Some of them aren’t pleasant. And none of them are your concern.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, taking on a more casual stance.

“I don’t want to live in the dark, Christian.”

“Like I said, the man is fine as far as I know. I gave no order to have him hurt.”

I studied him for a long moment. Maggie had said he wasn’t a liar. He could be a brute and an asshole, but he didn’t lie.

“All right.” I would have to take his word. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to track the mystery man down and check for myself anyway. “But why was he a threat to me?”

“I’m not sure yet.” He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. “I was coming to give you this when I saw you sneak down here.” He handed me my phone.

“I wasn’t sneaking.” I said.

The right edge of his lips curled. “You checked behind you to be sure you weren’t noticed.” He leaned closer; the spice of his aftershave tickled my nose. “I noticed,” he whispered.

“I’m not as good at being bad as you are, I suppose.”

He lifted his hand, drawing a loose strand of hair from my cheek to behind my ear. “Oh, I’d say you’re pretty good at being a bad girl.” The sultry tone he used made my stomach drop. “But I like it even more when you’re a good girl for me.”

I steeled myself, begging my body not to respond to his words. But I could feel my insides warming.

“Thank you.” I took a small step back, knocking into the chair. “For the phone.”

“I’ll be honest. I have another motive for giving it back to you.” He dropped his hand to his side and gestured with his chin. “I want you to call your father.”

“My dad?” I looked down at the screen. It was fully powered. No messages or notifications—had Christian been checking it? “Why?”

“I’ve been having trouble getting hold of him. Maybe he’ll take your call.”

“Why don’t you just call him from my phone?” I asked, sure there was more motive here. Did he want to see if I was going to be his obedient little wife now that he had the ring nestled on my finger?

“Because if he answers, I want you to set up a meeting with him. Invite him over.”

I looked back at the phone then to Christian. “Why won’t he take your calls? Where is he?” I asked. Dad never ignored his phone.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” He gave a pointed look to my hand. “Call your father, Amelia. It’s not a big deal.”

It could be. How would I really know? Christian wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information, and I hadn’t even spoken to my father since the night he confirmed my engagement to Christian.

“Fine.” I clicked the contact icon and called my dad. Christian stared at me; his eyes unreadable as the phone rang in my ear. Two rings then voicemail. Dad declined my call.

“That’s what I thought.” Christian sighed.

“Why would he not take my call?”

“He could think it’s just me trying to get him on the phone.”

“But then why not let it just go to voicemail? Why decline me? What’s going on? “I demanded.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems,” he shrugged. “In the meantime.” He cupped my elbow, drawing me out of the small room. He flicked off the light as we stepped outside. “We need to be ready to leave for New York tonight. Since you haven’t bothered to unpack anything, it seems you’re set to go.”

He walked me through the basement toward the stairs.

“Wait. Today? We’re leaving today? “I pulled back. “No. I have things to do. I have to get in touch with the community center. I have lessons tomorrow that need to be rescheduled.”

His eyebrows knit together. “What lessons?”

So, the mighty Christian Kaczmarek didn’t know everything. I almost hated having to tell him. It seemed since he was allowed to have his secrets, I should as well.

“I give piano lessons at the community center. They need to find a replacement for me. Can’t we wait a week? Or maybe—” A little thrill went through me at the prospect. Why hadn’t I thought of it before. “Maybe you should go ahead of me, and I’ll meet you in New York once I have everything settled.”

His left eyebrow arched slightly. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip, as though he were trying to cover his smile.

“That’s not going to happen.” He shook his head, recovering, apparently, from my foolish attempt to get my life back. “You can call the center and let them know you won’t be able to make the lessons anymore. I’ll have someone arrange for a replacement if they can’t find one.”

A mixture of irritation and surprise filled me. While he was taking away something I loved, he was also helping to fix it.

“How would you even know who to get?” I asked, skeptical of his generosity. He’d shown me none up to that point, why would he give over now?

“I don’t. But I know people. I told you.” He stepped past me onto the stairs. “Information is what I do. Now come upstairs, get something to eat and call the center,” he said over his shoulder, leaving me on the stairs.

I glanced back at the room he’d found me in, then up at the open doorway where he’d been a moment ago. The man was a complete contradiction.

I would need to keep my guard up.