Kingdom Fall: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Kingdom Come Book 2) Read online

  “Don’t be a dumb one either. Maybe your man will make a deal.”

  My man? Who was he referring to? He couldn’t possibly mean Striker. I’d told him I’d ended that relationship. Though I hadn’t told him that Striker was Connor—mostly because I hadn’t seen or talked to my brother a lot over the last few months.

  He had to be talking about Griff. If anyone had a prayer’s chance in hell to find us, it would be him. He owned a security company. The more I thought about it, I wondered if Griff had put a tracker on me. Then again, I didn’t have my purse. My exodus from the wedding had been impulsive. The only things I wore, besides the flimsy bridesmaid dress, were a bra, panties, shoes, and earrings. Though I would have hated it in any other situation, I prayed Griff had defied my privacy and planted a tracker in or around the pearls at my ears.

  I clicked my heels on the floor, hating they’d secured my ankles to the legs of the chair. Those heels were the only weapons at my disposal, along with nails and teeth. The latter was the only one available, and I didn’t like the idea of biting any of the sweaty, disgusting men who had brought us here.

  “You hear me?” Matty said.

  I came back from the faraway place I’d gone and focused on my brother. I might have said something, but the leader was back.

  “We have company,” the leader said, his gaze landing on me.

  I couldn’t imagine what any of this had to do with me—until the most unlikely person entered the room.

  “Mr. Black,” the leader said.

  Striker—Conner King—had another name, it seemed. Mr. Black. I might have shaken my head if I wasn’t so captivated by the man who looked like the best-dressed biker I’d thought him to be. From leather pants, shit-kicking boots, and that beat-all-to-hell leather jacket he never seemed to be without, he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Are you sure you want her back?” The leader grinned as though his question was the funniest ever.

  “She’s my wife,” Striker said, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Later, I would guess my tiny gasp and quick glance at my brother played into whatever was going on.

  “That’s the man she was with,” the leader said with glee.

  Striker stepped forward and decked my brother square in the jaw. Matt’s head snapped back, and I let out a strangled cry. Then Striker was in front of me and one of the leader’s henchmen freed me from my bonds. Striker wasn’t exactly gentle when he helped me to my feet.

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to punish her for you?” the leader asked.

  “No,” Striker answered.

  The leader gave a full belly laugh. “I guess for the money you paid, you earned the right.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I sneered.

  The men who had filled the room laughed, along with the leader.

  Striker leaned down and whispered, “For once, do what you’re told.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Even quieter, he said, “If you want to live, you will.”

  If the room hadn’t erupted in laughter, they might have heard me slip up and say, “I’m not leaving my brother.”

  “Just this once, trust me,” Striker said as he practically dragged me from the room.

  If I hadn’t spotted the men with guns in strategic places in the open-air main area of the warehouse, I would have dug in my heels. Instead, I waited to speak until we were alone and close to his bike.

  “If something happens to him, I’ll kill you myself,” I said. When he held out a helmet to me, I refused to take it. “I’m not leaving.”

  “If you don’t, we’ll all die.” I held firm, and he sighed before checking his watch. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Like you punching my brother? Oh, what a big man you are, hitting a man who can’t defend himself.”

  “I used that distraction to slip him something to use to free himself. But if you don’t get your pretty ass on my bike, they are going to know something's up.”

  I snatched the helmet and said, “You better not be lying to me,” before putting it on my head.

  Then I was forced to curl my body around his, remembering what it felt like to be this close to him, before he took off. Seconds later, a blast lit up the night’s sky. I turned my head and saw the explosion that seemed to come from the abandoned warehouse. He hadn’t been lying. I prayed my brother had gotten out safely.

  We’re going to die repeated in my head as we rode at breakneck speeds until we pulled into a garage. I hopped off the bike and slapped his arm when he stood next to me.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “For almost killing us.”

  He grinned and nearly killed me with his smile instead.

  “I want to talk to my brother,” I demanded.

  “Not now, princess,” he said, taking me by the arm and marching me forward.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To save our asses,” he said.

  I’d closed my eyes for most of the trip and didn’t exactly know where we were. He opened a door, and inside, he pressed a button for an elevator. When it opened, he pulled me in, waved a key card in front of a reader, pressed another button, and instead of going up, doors opened behind us.

  “What’s this?” I said.

  “Plan A.”

  We were in a dimly lit tunnel. The fact that he’d used a keycard to gain us access meant I was depending not only on that he knew where we were going but that he could get us out of the underground space if things went tits up. “This is some horror movie shit.”

  “More like Mission Impossible,” he grumbled, still pulling me along.

  “What? You fancy yourself Tom Cruise and me one of your many leading ladies?”

  “I’m taller than Tom Cruise and better looking.”

  I could have lied and disagreed, but I blamed my non-response on the thumping beat of music above us.

  “You’re taking me to a club?” To make sure I properly conveyed my exasperation, I added, “And it better not be a sex club. If you think I’m screwing you, you’re one toolbox short of reality.”

  He stopped in front of a door and locked his gaze with mine. “If I wanted to fuck you, princess, I have no doubt you’d let me.”

  He could have added close your mouth or you’ll let the flies in for the way my jaw hung open. How dare he say that—true or not? But I had no time to cut him down a peg, because he’d keyed a code into a panel as he spoke. When he finished, the door opened, and music surrounded us.

  Three

  Connor

  The blonde bombshell was going to get us killed if she continued with her stubborn streak. I hadn’t yet learned who was behind all of this. I could assume, since I’d been able to bargain for her, that she wasn’t the target. But what if whoever was behind this was smarter than I gave them credit for?

  The scheme might be more elaborate than that. I could be leading them exactly where they wanted me to. It didn’t help that we were leaving a digital footprint. The dance club had security, and I knew better than anyone that any system could be hacked with enough patience and time. The fact that I owned the building gave me access into all spaces.

  If I’d been alone, I could have faded in the background. But Lizzy in her bridesmaid’s dress—which was a little too long for a place like this—would stand out. If I’d planned to hole up here, I would have cut the thing off her at mid-thigh. As it was, we were only passing through. I had to hope we had a lead on anyone who might have followed us.

  She didn’t like me holding her hand, which I’d snagged once we were through the door. She’d tried to shake me off, but I held firm and gave her a warning glare she’d received. I was damn sure she’d make me pay later.

  We wound around the fringes of the room until we got to the exit. It led to a garage in the building across the street from where I’d parked my bike. If someone had been on our heels, they would be search
ing that building instead of this one.

  “You are Tom Cruise,” she said when I unlocked the doors of an SUV with blacked-out windows.

  “Get in. We don’t have time.”

  Gratefully, she got in without any more comments. But if I’d thought I was off the hook, I was wrong. She waited until after I’d peeled out of the garage as though our lives depended on it, which they did, before laying into me.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “You tell me, princess. One drunken minute, I’m about to get a happy ending. The next, I see you and your brother getting taken and I’m forced to play Liam Neeson’s role, drumming up a particular set of skills to get us to where we are now.”

  “You think you saved me?” she asked, though she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I saved you. That girl was all teeth.”

  “Maybe I like pain.”

  “With those horse teeth, she would have bitten your dick off.”

  “Jealous?” I asked, but she just glared at me. “You did focus on the woman-on-her-knees part of the conversation instead of the fact that I saved your sweet ass.”

  “No, I was saving you from lying again because we both know Griffin set this all up.”

  I ground my molars but didn’t bite my tongue. “I know you think the world of your boyfriend, so I let you believe what you want.”

  Though Griffin swore there was nothing between them, I needed to hear it from her.

  “He’s a better man than you.”

  I tried not to feel the dagger she’d slammed into my heart. “How so?”

  “He’s never lied to me.”

  “Funny how lying bothers you so much, but you lie to yourself. You won’t admit that I would have told you the truth, but you didn’t want to know. And if I had later, then what? You would have told yourself I wasn’t the best lay of your life because what? I’m rich? That makes you worse than a liar. You’re a hypocrite. And trust me, I can’t wait to put you back in Griffin’s arms and be done with you.”

  When my little speech silenced her, I had a moment to wonder if I’d gone too far. But then, we got to the Holland Tunnel.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Safety,” I said.

  “What does that mean? And don’t tell me you don’t have time.”

  “We don’t,” I said, slowing behind a pair of blinking lights.

  “What? You’re going to help a broken-down motorist? While that’s admirable considering who you are, I thought we didn’t have time.”

  I’d come to a stop, drivers honking as they made their way around us. Time was at a premium. Tunnel authorities would be on scene within minutes and we needed to be gone before then.

  A woman holding a bag exited the car parked ahead of us and came our way. When I popped the locks for her, Lizzy’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.

  “Here,” the woman said, shoving a bag at Lizzy once she slid in the back seat.

  “Change,” I said.

  “What?” Lizzy said, her voice going up an octave.

  “Take your dress off, give it to her, and put on clothes from the bag. And don’t argue. We are on the clock. Less than thirty seconds.”

  “I can’t change in that time.”

  “You can’t if you’re talking.”

  The look Lizzy gave me would have melted the skin off a lesser man. She whipped the dress over her head, all while glaring at me, and tossed it back to the other woman without glancing in her direction.

  It was probably wrong that I grew hard with her laser eyes focused on me. Then again, who would blame me if they could remember the fuck-to-kill session we’d had at her gallery after she’d gotten pissed at me?

  I shifted in my seat as Lizzy asked, “You work for Griff, I assume?” Though her eyes never left mine, she was talking to the woman behind us.

  “Yes,” the woman said.

  “That’s what I thought,” she snapped as she pulled a T-shirt over her head.

  If I hadn’t only had eyes for the blonde, I would have peeked at what was happening in the back seat as the woman changed into the dress Lizzy had taken off.

  “I guess we’re playing switcheroo?” Lizzy snapped.

  I nodded. “We’re going to get in that car and wait a second for them to pull out in front of us. Hopefully they’ll be able to make up the time so it appears they—we—never stopped. And we’ll leave before the Port Authorities show up.”

  “Go,” the woman said as soon as Lizzy shimmied pants over her amazing legs and ass.

  I got out, and the man in the car opened the door to a chorus of honks as cars zoomed past. Thirty seconds after the SUV pulled around us, I drove off at a leisurely pace. I spotted blinking yellow lights in the rearview mirror. The service van was looking for us. The stopped car had probably been reported by a good Samaritan—or a pissed off one.

  “Where to now?” Lizzy asked.

  After we passed the EZ-Pass toll, I hit the gas. “We fly.”

  When I pulled off the exit that led to a private airport, she said, “You can’t be serious.”

  “I didn’t lie,” I sneered.

  “You can’t believe I’m going anywhere with you. Besides, I didn’t pack.”

  I hooked my thumb toward the back seat, where I presumed the woman who had traded places with Lizzy had left a bag for her.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, especially without my brother.”

  “Your brother’s fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I would have been alerted otherwise.”

  “Give me your phone so I can confirm for myself.”

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Two reasons. One, if the operation is ongoing and he still has his phone, you may alert the bad guys where he’s hiding.”

  “I thought you said he’s fine,” she sneered.

  “Fine means not dead.”

  “And the other reason?”

  I parked the car and faced her. “The second reason is we don’t know who or why someone did this. But somehow they knew the exact moment to pull up and grab you guys clean.”

  “They were tracking him?”

  “Or you,” I said.

  Her mouth fell open. “But why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. One of you is comprised. If you call, you could lead them to us and all of that we just did would be for nothing.”

  “So you expect me to get on a plane going God knows where with you?”

  I took the bag packed for me out of the back seat and put the rental car keys under the front seat for Griffin’s people.

  “I expect nothing from you.” I opened the door, but before I got out, I added, “You are welcome to go in the office over there and borrow a phone to call your white knight. I’m sure the Highlander would love to whisk you off and spend some alone time with you, wife.”

  The door slammed shut on her protest.

  “Listen here, buddy,” she said, racing to catch up to me. “We are not married.”

  “The State of New York would say differently.”

  I nodded at the man waiting at the bottom of the plane’s stairs before making my way up them. Her verbal assault didn’t begin again until we were inside the cabin. I took a solitary seat up front on the right. She sat in the one across the aisle.

  “The only reason I’m going is because Griffin must have a good reason to send me anywhere with you. He doesn’t like you much,” she said.

  “Whatever lets you sleep at night,” I said before closing my eyes.

  “And the other is to set the record straight about this fake marriage.”

  I held in a wince and willed my heart and cock to get on board with my head. This woman didn’t want me, so why did we still want her? It was long past time for me to move the fuck on.

  Four

  Lizzy

  Whatever rant I’d been about to spout off ended when Striker said, “You mean the fake marriage you have yet to end? H
ave you asked yourself why?”

  I had, a hundred times, and I had no sane answer.

  He apparently did. “I have one if you don’t.”

  “What’s that?” I asked tartly.

  “My mother married a rich man.”

  “You can’t think—”

  He leveled his gaze on me. “What I know is in my haste to protect you, I didn’t protect myself.”

  “From me?” I countered.

  He shrugged. “I don’t really know you, do I? Right now, you could ask for a divorce instead of the annulment we agreed upon and take half of everything I own.”

  I got to my feet as if anger controlled my limbs like a marionette. “Have your lawyers draw up an annulment or whatever that leaves you whole and I’ll sign it.”

  Marching to the beat of fury, I moved to the back of the small plane, dropped my bag on the table, and sat in a chair two back from where I’d been. I could still see him lounging as if none of it mattered to him.

  Before I could get comfortable, a uniformed blonde appeared, looking all googly-eyed at Striker. “Mr. Black, is there anything I could get you before takeoff?”

  I was busy trying to understand what was up with the Mr. Black name—that was what he’d been called by our kidnappers—and missed most of his response. What I heard him say was, “My wife might want something.”

  She’d been ready to ignore my presence, but her smile tightened as though she was fighting to keep it on her face. “Yes.” She walked my way, the smile slipping the closer she got. “Is there anything I can get you, miss?”

  “That would be Mrs. And no, I’m fine.” Damn if I would let her get me a drink. She looked like a spitter.

  She spun around, and though I couldn’t hear it, I imaged her heels clicking as she pranced her way to retrieve whatever Striker had ordered.

  Two people entered the plane. A woman in a neon yellow and orange vest carrying a clip board turned toward the pilot’s cabin. The other wore a TSA badge and asked Striker for his passport. I had a moment to wonder what name the one he handed over had on it.

  I said, “I don’t have mine.”