Deep Under by Lisa Renee Jones

Author:Lisa Renee Jones
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Julie Patra Publishing
Published: 2016-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Myla

Once we’re on the highway, I sink back into the leather of the Mustang’s seat, and my mind is searching for answers, instead finding the past. I’m back where this all started. In the restaurant, and seated at a table across from Michael Alvarez. At first, having dinner with him hadn’t been all that bad. He’d been suave, charming even. He’d asked about my dreams, and for reasons I don’t know, I told him about my design work. We’d laughed about food, television, and politics, and he’d seemed so very human. He’d told me about his restaurants, the conversation so comfortable that I’d started to think he wasn’t the kingpin I thought he was.

When dinner was over, he’d invited me to his hotel room for drinks. I’d quickly declined and he hadn’t pushed, but there was something in his eyes I should have known was trouble. Still, he didn’t push himself on me or even ask to see me again. I’d left Kara a message, but afraid of scaring her, I hadn’t told her why. Just that I needed her to call me. That decision had been the stupidest of my life. Had I told her why, maybe she would have sent help while I was still in the city. But I didn’t and hours later, my life forever changed.

I exit the restaurant, into a chilly San Francisco evening, huddling down into my jacket, when a fancy black sports car pulls up next to me. The door pops open and much to my shock, Michael Alvarez is inside. “Get in,” he orders.

“I’m meeting a friend,” I say, but suddenly the man I now know as Ricardo is by my side.

“He said, get in,” he repeats, and when I look up I find two more men leaning on a car to my left, and watching me. My heart is racing. I have to get in. I don’t want to get in.

“Bella,” he says, calling me “beautiful” in Spanish, but my gut tells me to pretend I don’t understand. I decide in that moment to be whatever he wants me to be, to survive until I can call Kara.

I slide into the car, and give him a shy smile I pray looks real. “I guess my friend can wait. What does bella mean?”

His lips curve, his eyes possessive as he brushes hair from my cheek, and chills of absolute terror slide down my spine.

I blink back to the present and Kyle is pulling the Mustang into the parking garage of the Ritz, but my mind drags me to one last horrible moment, forcing my lashes to lower. I am in his hotel room. The room is elegant, large, and thankfully the living area is separate from the bedroom that I don’t want to see, but fear I will. I take a step toward a chair to join him, but he holds up a hand. “I want to see all that ivory skin naked. Get naked for me, Myla.”

I blanch. “Now? Here?

His lips curve slightly, his eyes darkening.

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