Rise of the Notorious (38 page)

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Authors: Katie Jennings

Tags: #vasser, #Literature, #Saga, #Fiction, #Drama, #legacy, #family drama, #katie jennings, #Hotels

BOOK: Rise of the Notorious
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She snorted, though the idea had her mind exploding with ideas. “How many rooms are there again?”

“Not enough.” He pressed against her, his mouth finding hers greedily as he took his fill of her. She arched, arms winding around his back as she gave, gave all she had, all she was. In these times of trouble, it was all she could do for him. When he needed her, she had to be there.

Her cell phone went off suddenly in her pocket. She let out a frustrated breath and pushed Linc aside as she reached for it. When she spotted her father’s name on the screen, she shot Linc a knowing look.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said as she answered the phone, her voice purposely void of emotion. She had not spoken to him since she had left her parent’s home in South Carolina, ultimately having decided that he had nothing to do with Kennedy’s disappearance. She questioned her judgment now, when she heard the liquor in his voice.


Lynette
,” he mumbled, sounding sick with fear and stress. “
You need to get out of New York. Get somewhere safe, anywhere other than there
.”

“Why?” she demanded, alarmed. Linc leaned in to listen to her father speak.


I can’t let you get hurt by politics, pumpkin…I can’t do it anymore.

Fear licked at her insides as she met eyes with Linc.


It’s Morgan…he’s the one who had the brakes cut on that car. It’s my goddamn fault, I should have never led him to Grant and Linc.

“But the police have Jorja Hale in custody for that,” Lynette told him. “Didn’t you know that?”


She didn’t do it, damnit. Morgan did. I have a man inside Morgan’s camp feeding me information; he confirmed that to me just today. And after the assassination attempt, I have to think that’s Morgan’s doing as well. You have to get out of there, Lynette.

Linc grabbed the phone from her and growled into the receiver. “Damnit, Shaw, what the hell are you talking about?”

There was a moment of tense silence before Shaw decided to speak. “
Hello, Linc.

“Yeah, hi. What’s up?” Linc grunted mockingly. “What are you talking about with Morgan? Do you have any proof?”

He heard Shaw take a long sip of what he presumed to be an alcoholic beverage before speaking again. “
I have a recorded conversation. It won’t hold up in court, but it can at least lead the police to Morgan.

“So why would Morgan try and kill my brother and sister?”


The man is insane, bipolar, an egotist…he can’t be trusted. He probably figured that by hurting you more, he could generate more sympathy from the public. Soften the blow that I was planning to deliver, make it seem like I was the bad guy for bringing it up at such an awful time.

Anger flashed over Linc’s face as he gripped the phone tighter in his hand. “And thereby discredit you, so no one would care what you had to say in regards to his father’s connection to my grandfather.”


Exactly.
” Shaw hiccupped, then could be heard taking another swig of alcohol. “
Get my daughter to safety, Linc. Tell your family about Morgan, keep an eye out. I won’t be involved in this any longer, I’ve done enough damage.

He hung up then, leaving Linc hanging onto the phone, a strange, pulsing sensation rushing over his body. Lynette pulled the phone from his hand and reached up to touch his face gently.

“You were right. It wasn’t Jorja,” she murmured, still dulled by the shock of her father’s words.

Linc nodded slowly, then rose to his feet. He went straight to the door of Lynette’s apartment and clicked the deadbolt shut. He then ran his hands over the door’s surface, his breathing quickening as he suddenly felt enraged and vulnerable.

“I need to protect you,” he whispered, resting his head against the door to try and cool his raging system. “I have to protect my family.”

Troubled, Lynette got up to pull him away from the door. Without a word, she hugged him and tried desperately not to show how terrified she was.

If he knew, it would only make things worse.

“You failed,” said
the voice, warped and outraged. She shook uncontrollably against the bonds that held her.

“I-I tried…” Kennedy stammered, her heart hammering ferociously in her chest out of fear, out of desperation. “H-he blocked me.”

“I told you what would happen if you failed to kill her!” the voice said again. Kennedy could hear the sound of feet shuffling over the concrete floor around her as the man circled her like a vulture circling a dead carcass—hungry and malicious.

“Why d-didn’t you just set o-off the bomb you strapped to my chest? Or the bomb you planted at the hotel?” she asked, her tears warming her eyes behind the blindfold she wore. “Why did you grab me off the street and bring me back here?”

“I didn’t realize you had hit the wrong target.”

Her head whipped back violently as a gloved hand struck her in the face, blinding, hot pain shooting through her system. A sob built and exploded in her throat as she began to cry.

“And there weren’t any bombs. I just told you that so you wouldn’t try to run away. Foolish girl.”

She shuddered and lowered her face, the pain on her cheek still throbbing through her body. She remained silent, certain now that he intended to kill her. Perhaps it had always been his plan, even if she had succeeded in killing her own sister. Why in the world this stranger wanted Madison dead, she would never know. Not now.

“Untie her. We need to get rid of her,” the voice ordered. At first Kennedy was confused, unsure who he was talking to. But when she heard a second set of feet shuffle over the floor, she realized her captor wasn’t alone.

She felt rough hands brush against her shoulder as the second captor untied the rope at her back, releasing her hands. He lifted her from the chair, not as roughly as she expected, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t move.”

She thought she recognized the voice, but couldn’t be certain. Regardless, her instincts won over any common sense as she tried to swing her arm around and hit the man who stood beside her. She felt her fingers make contact with his arm and dug in, leaving what she hoped were deep scratches as he cursed under his breath and wrestled her arms behind her back again.

“Damnit, put her back in the chair,” the warped voice said. “I don’t have time for this. Kill her and get rid of the body. You know what I’ll do to you if you don’t.”

Kennedy fell back into the chair, sobbing as the man tied her hands again. She heard a metal door open and shut with a hollow bang, and realized the man with the voice changer had left. Deciding she had only one chance left to survive, she began to plead with her remaining captor.

“Please, let me go. I won’t go home; I’ll disappear. I’ll go to Florida, Canada, somewhere else. Please, just don’t kill me.”

The man said nothing, but she could hear him breathing and could sense he was deciding what step to take next. She prayed, though she didn’t even believe in God, that the man would release her.

After a few minutes of silent deliberation, she felt him reach down and untie her bonds. Without saying anything else, he left the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

She waited, holding her breath and listening for any sound, any indication he may be returning to finish what he had abandoned. When all she heard was silence, she let out a frantic sob and reached up to remove her blindfold, blinking into the darkness of the room. She rose shakily from the chair, fear skittering down her spine and causing her body to shake uncontrollably, so much so that it was almost impossible to walk on her own.

Her hands extended out into the darkness, feeling the air, hoping to find the walls of the chamber and find the door. She had no clue what awaited her outside or just how far she was from home.

When she found the door, her hand gripped the handle weakly and she used whatever desperate strength she could muster to push open the door. She stumbled out into the sunlight and crumbled to her knees. Her eyes shut instantly from the glare of light, her arms coming up to shield her face. For a few moments, she hesitated, listening to the distant sounds of the city.

Her eyes opened slowly and saw buildings and streets she did not recognize; the whole world beyond her chamber foreign and frightening. Unable to do more, she broke down and wept, terrified and yet thankful for the unknown captor who had freed her.

Against medical advice,
Wyatt insisted on leaving the hospital a day ahead of schedule. There was no way in hell they were going to keep him away from Madison or away from the hotel at a time like this. Not when there was this false sense of security in the air now that Jorja Hale had been arrested.

He couldn’t believe the cops could be such fools. Then again, every time he'd had a run-in with the law, it seemed that they didn’t care if they caught the right guy. They just needed to catch
a
guy, get him convicted by a jury of his peers, and then pat each other on the back for it. He’d seen more than one innocent man go down because of corrupt city officials, and while he couldn’t give a shit about the fate of Jorja Hale, he knew there was a greater danger here.

The real bastard was still out there somewhere, and Wyatt was beginning to think his original assumption had been alarmingly accurate. The threat
had
come from inside the Vasser family, and it only put Madison in more danger.

His reluctance to tell her the truth about Vegas had put her in this position, and he understood now that he couldn’t wait another second before telling her the truth. She had to know, consequences be damned, why he had left all those years before.

Once she did know…well, he hoped she would side with him when he accused a member of her family of kidnapping and attempted murder.

He slipped out of his hospital bed, intent on getting dressed and hightailing it out of there as quickly as possible. He had to stop short as his body revolted, dizzying his brain and sending spots sparking like fireworks out over his vision. Sitting back down on the bed, he shut his eyes and winced at the pain in his side where the bandage covered his bullet wound.

Damnit. With a labored sigh, he rested his head in his hands and fought to get his bearings back. He couldn’t waste anymore time.

As he did so, his thoughts flashed back to the past and to his last memory of Vegas.

It had been the last time he had walked the halls of the casino, experienced the lights, the sounds, the thrill of it. It had also been the moment his life had, in many ways, ended.

It was a moment he knew he could never take back. He also knew he wouldn’t change his reaction to it, even if he could relive the moment a thousand times.

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