The Playboy's Fugitive Bride by Ross Ana E

Author:Ross, Ana E. [Ross, Ana E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ana E Ross
Published: 2014-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

“You have a visitor, Miss Sylk.”

“I bet I do.” Nia rose from the narrow cot in the eight-by-four cell in which she’d been locked for the past two hours or so. She swore Jabari’s cage was a lot roomier than her cell. Being locked up, having your privileges taken away and placed in someone else’s control was no way to live. As Nia had sat on the cot, she’d come to realize that life on the run was just as much a prison as the bars that limited her physical movements.

They’d given her the customary one phone call, and she’d wasted it on the only person who could get her out of this mess—the very man who’d gotten her into it.

Again.

He’d promised to come right over and bail her out.

The last time an Andretti had made a promise to a Norwood, she’d lost her father.

What was it going to cost her this time? She prayed to God that it wasn’t her brother.

She stared at the ruddy-faced officer as he unlocked her cell—the only one of the eight that was occupied. She followed him along a corridor and around a corner, grateful that at least they hadn’t handcuffed her again. They passed the room where he had fingerprinted her and lined her up for her mug shots. Afterwards, he’d taken her to a multi-stall bathroom so she could wash the stench of vomit from her body.

Once alone, Nia had taken a quick cramped shower in a stall as big as a locker, then pulled out the gray dress from the top of her suitcase and put it on. She was wearing the second of the two dresses she’d sworn she’d not be in Granite Falls long enough to wear.

Her master scheme was falling apart right in front of her and she was powerless to do anything about it.

Nia sighed as a feeling of hopelessness descended on her. They’d taken her luggage, her money, the Andretti family jewelry she’d been wearing and that damned engagement ring she’d forgotten to take off before she fled. As far as she was concerned, the four cops who made up the entire Granite Falls Police Department were in cahoots with Massimo Andretti.

She was the outsider who’d fallen victim to a twisted plot.

She wasn’t even a person anymore. She was now number 315678.

The boy-officer led her down a short flight of stairs, into a shorter, but wider hallway, and stopped at the first door on the right. “Your visitor is waiting inside,” he said, and hastily sped back the way they had come.

Nia glanced around the brightly lit hallway with two holding benches and a water cooler lining one wall, while an oversized bulletin board with an array of three-by-five cards, colorful Post-it notes, and additional bulletins lined the other wall. The other three doors were closed and seemed unoccupied, casting a feeling of pessimism in the air. If this was New York, she was certain the interrogation rooms would be crowded with criminals and cops trying to squeeze the truth of them.

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