The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 12

Knox

I wake up, groaning. s**t. It's been a while since I've taken pain medication. Combined with already being exhausted, four pills might've been too many. I probably haven't slept this long in months.

Stretching my aching back from sleeping in the seat, I check the cameras in Natasha's room on my laptop. Is she sleeping or being stubborn and staying up all night watching TV?

My blood runs cold as I don't see her on the bed. I quickly click through the rest of the screens—she's nowhere in the f*****g room.

Rewinding the feed, I see that she left at 9:47. Ten minutes ago.

Fuck. f**k. f**k.

I pull up the tracking app on my phone—Natasha is six minutes away from the bakery. But why? Why the f**k is she going there so late without protection?

There's no time to trace her calls and texts. I start my car and zoom out of the parking lot, weaving in and out of lanes, doing 110 mph on the highway. If the cops want to pull me over, they'll have to catch me first.

And even then, I'll put up a fight. The police chief may fear Andre, but he should be even more afraid of me. Because if something happens to Natasha, I'll hunt down every cop in the city and kill them.

I skid to a stop a few spaces behind the bakery. Retrieving my pistols from the glove box, I shove one into my waistband, holding the other in my hand as I cautiously but quickly maneuver to the back of the building.

The backdoor is closed, but I slowly creak it open. With years of experience, I don't have to see to recognize my environment. I lurk in the darkest corners of the bakery, making my way through until I stop behind a wall in the kitchen, where I hear muffled voices in the office and walk-in.

Peeking around the corner, I see four men in the office, breaking into the safe. Natasha must be in the walk-in.

They have her.

They have my little temptress, and they're probably hurting her at this very moment.

The image of her afraid and crying flashes in my mind, instantly sending an inferno of rage coursing through my body.

Two men walk into the walk-in and close the door, leaving two in the office. With the silencer on my gun, I slip into the small room and eliminate all of them before they even realize what's happening.

I have no use for them, anyway. Their boss is either with Natasha or waiting for the job to be done. This isn't a random robbery. Natasha was lured her, but by who?

Brandon.

That's the only thing that makes sense. Why else would she come here so f*****g late?

I inch closer to the walk-in, blood rushing in my ears as I prepare to burst in.

"No! No!" Natasha's muffled voice pierces through the door.

I kick open the door, quickly assessing the room. Natasha is unconscious in a masked man's arms, her hands bound, while Brandon is tied to a chair.

Fury flows through the veins, my vision blurring with rage. Before they can react to my entrance, I shoot the two empty-handed men standing beside Natasha and then the one seconds from blowing Brandon's brains out. Only the man holding my little temptress is left.

He'll suffer the most.

Panic flickering in his eyes as he presses a gun to Natasha's head. "Take more step and I'll shoot her, man. I-I mean it," he warns, his voice trembling.

I tilt my head, a laugh bubbling out of me as the most intense, unhinged feeling courses through every fiber of my being. Not only did they f*****g drug her, now one of them is threatening to take her away from me.

She's mine.

I'll make whoever ordered this grab pay, and every single piece of s**t associated with them.

With eyes trained on his gun, I walk over to Brandon and begin undoing his restraints. I leave the tape around his mouth for last because I don't want to hear s**t from him right now. Forced or not, he was involved. And I can't fully rationalize with the green beast in my head with my baby girl currently in another man's arms.

"Keep the tape on," I mutter, my voice hard.

Brandon simply nods, massaging his wrists as he struggles to stand.

"Slowly walk over there and take Natasha from him." When he hesitates, I add, "He won't hurt you. He may be a stupid motherfucker, but he's going to plead for his life."

Trust fills Brandon eyes as he strides over to the masked piece of s**t and retrieves Natasha from his arms. Then, Natasha's failed abductor tries to run out of the room, but I shoot him in both heels.

He falls to the ground with a strangled cry.

"Wrong move." I walk over, dragging him back by his ankles while he screams like a little girl. "Please! I don't want to die!"

"Then, you shouldn't have touched what belongs to me," I say with a calm malice.

I flip him over and toss him in the chair that just held Brandon. Pulling off his mask, I see a familiar face. I believe his name is Buster. He used to work as one of Andre's runners but disappeared a few months ago. Marco believed he was killed and dumped in a river or some s**t.

Or maybe Andre led him to believe that.

I take the knife tucked in my pocket and drive it into his thigh. He screams, snot and tears streaming down his face.

"Who do you work for?" I ask calmly, crouching to his eye level.

His face contorts with fear and pain. "I-I don't know. Our boss contacted us through text, never seen his face. He calls himself the Shadow man."

Interesting. If he wants to remain anonymous, that means he doesn't want me to find out who he is.

I walk around the room, pulling the mask off each assailant. They all used to work for Andre, or perhaps they still do, but he's operating behind Marco's back.

Because he doesn't want it obvious that he's trying to sell off his daughter.

But Caden Abramov might be involved to. If there's a chance this isn't Andre's doing, someone might've gone after Natasha thinking she was involved with him.

Still betting on her shitty-ass father, though.

"What did this "shadow man" say he wanted with her?" I ask, turning to Buster.

"H-He just wanted us to bring her back alive," Buster answers.

"Who did he stay in contact with?"

"Axel, over there." He points to the body behind him, slouched against the wall with a bullet in his brain. I search through his pockets and find the phone.

"Any idea what his password is?"

"Probably his daughter's birthday. September 22nd, 2011."

They must have been friends, since he knew such personal information. The fact that Axel had a daughter bothers me just a little, but then I look over at Natasha still unconscious in Brandon's arms and my blood reignites.

I type the date, and the phone unlocks. I go to his recent messages with the contact name "Shadow". Minimal messages, but half a million dollars was sent to split between the men with the promise of the other half when Natasha was delivered. I don't recognize the text patterns, so that's no f*****g help.

Jaw tensing, I ask Buster, "What did he sound like on the phone?"

"He used one of those voice distorter things. Wanted to remain completely anonymous."

"Look, man, it wasn't personal. We were just getting a job done," he continues, his voice laced with desperation.

"Anything done to her is always personal to me," I growl.

I pull the knife from his thigh and slit his throat, blood raining on me.

"K-Knox, she's burning up," Brandon's voice cuts through the murderous haze.

My gaze snaps to my little temptress, her face flushed with warmth. She doesn't look well.

Fuck.

"What'd they give her?' I snarl, crouching beside them and brushing my hand against her cheek.

"They shoved a pill in her mouth," he answers, his voice full of regret.

Could it be Enthrall or something different....something stronger.

All I know is she's having a bad reaction.

"Get a bucket of cold cloths. Now," I order Brandon. Leaving Natasha in my arms, he carefully steps over the bodies, heading towards the kitchen.

I stroke Natasha's hair, letting her know that I'm here. "I've got you, baby girl. You're safe with me. Only me," I coo. "I'll find out who did this, and I'll make them f*****g pay."

Once Brandon returns with the bucket, I carry Natasha to my car, laying her in the backseat with her head in Brandon's lap. I don't want him near her, but I need him to keep her cool while I drive.

For now, there's only one place that's safe for her until I figure out who did this.

My cabin.