Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 Read online

  My lungs seize, a band around my chest and throat, and I can’t fucking get a breath in.

  “Gabby?”

  I hear him calling my name but panic takes over. The floor greets me as I roll off the couch and fall to my knees. Face tingling, palms sweaty, I’m fighting as hard as I can to get a grip on things, but the spots in my vision let me know I’ve lost the battle. I’ll pass out soon and things may normalize. Who knows? My heart rate is elevated and my blood pressure is undoubtedly high. Maybe I’ll expire of a heart attack. But then I think about HTS and freak even more. What will happen to the company if I die?

  I force myself to breathe the way I need to, to help balance my oxygen and carbon dioxide levels. Soon I feel things level out. By that time, Case is rushing into my office and grabbing me off the floor.

  “I’m okay.” The words come out in a pant.

  He releases me. “Shit, you scared me! What happened?”

  “Panic attack.” I’m still a little wheezy.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” He throws his arms up in the air.

  How dare he? How can he accuse me of anything?

  “You think I did that on purpose? Get out.”

  “No, that’s not what I think.”

  “Case, just leave.” I’m tired and I don’t want to argue with him.

  “But you were …”

  I sit again and my head hangs down. Without looking at him, I say, “I appreciate you running back here. And I’m sorry about all this. But I’m doing the best I can. I meant what I said on the phone.” Deep breath, Gabby. “I can’t go home and go to sleep. Everyone has their own situation—you were dealt a shitty hand when you were mugged, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but you had a concrete issue. I’m dealing with something so abstract, I can’t even wrap my damn brain around it yet. But I’m trying. Honest to God, I’m trying. Every day I wake up and think, maybe today I’ll hear from him. Or maybe today, they’ll find his body. Or maybe today, I’ll get a ransom note. Or maybe today his creepy father will call and tell me he’s done something to him. But nothing. Every day is the same. So I carry on, but I feel like I’m dying inside because I don’t know what else to do or how to help him. And it’s the worst feeling in the world.”

  “Jesus, Gabs. I wish I could do something.”

  “I wish you could too. So just go home and let me be. I’ll be okay.”

  “No. You’re going home with me.”

  “No. I can’t, Case. I’ve taken advantage of you for far too long. And I need to get on with things. If I don’t start one day at a time, I’ll never do it.” I force myself to lift my head.

  He gives me the hardest look I’ve ever seen, but then he jerks his head and leaves. When he’s gone, I lean back and curl up in a ball and try to sleep. Eventually I do, but fitfully. And my dreams are of Kolson calling to me, but I can’t reach him. My arm isn’t long enough and he fades away before I can touch him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kolson

  Three weeks have passed and I can now risk going out. My beard has grown and my dyed hair is longer. I always wear a hoodie since the weather has cooled with fall in full swing now, and either I wear sunglasses or go out at night. I have to be near her.

  I stage myself across from her office and time it just right to get a glimpse of her coming or going. Sam knows I’m going to be here. He doesn’t think it’s smart, but I don’t care. I need to see her for myself.

  He drops her off and gets out to walk her to the door. When they arrive, he stops and chats with her. She’s thinner and her face looks grief-stricken. I’m not close enough to get a good look, but I can sense her unhappiness. It’s her stooped posture and sagging shoulders. Her hand fingers the locket I gave her, as if it gives her comfort. It makes me wonder if it does. And then it fills me with regret … regret for listening to her … regret for not showering her with gift after gift. I could’ve given her all kinds of jewelry and trinkets. But I chose not to because she said she didn’t want them. And now I’m filled with such aching remorse for not doing it. Why did I listen?

  Kahlil Gibran said, “And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”

  The first time I read those words, I thought of my biological mother. But now I know what he truly meant when he wrote them. I recognized my love for Gabriella was intense and true but I hadn’t a clue of its boundless depths until we were apart.

  I should’ve listened to Sam.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Gabriella

  Week four A.K. This is how I measure time now. Before Kolson and After Kolson. I force myself to eat, but food tastes awful and I can barely keep it in my stomach. My clothes hang on me and my face looks like death. Purple half moons shadow my eyes and my hair is lank and dull. My luster has faded from the outside just as it has on the inside. On the positive side, if there is one, I’m staying at my old studio. Nights are shitty, but I sleep there. Sleeping in the bed I shared with Kolson isn’t close to doable. His presence still lingers and puts me in such a depressed state that I become physically ill. I go to the penthouse every day to collect mail and do everything else, but I can’t bring myself to spend the night there. It’s ridiculous, but my vivid recollections of what we shared in that bed are too overwhelming. Things are better in my little studio.

  I step out of the penthouse elevator and come to an abrupt halt. Kestrel stands there like a predator. I’m not sure if I should be frightened. He’s not communicated with me once during all of this so this visit takes me by surprise.

  “Gabby. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  His voice, mannerisms, looks, everything are so compelling and scary, I want to flee. But I stand my ground.

  “A call would’ve been nice. He’s been missing for four weeks now.” I’m suddenly angry. This is his brother. What the fuck!

  “I know. I’ve been in Vegas and just returned. I came as soon as I could.”

  “Fuck that, Kestrel. This is Kolson we’re talking about. Your brother. Let’s be honest. The real reason you didn’t come was because of your fuck of a father.”

  He jerks his head back. Oh yeah, I’ve shocked the poor bastard.

  “What? Surprised?”

  He releases a nervous laugh. “Uh, I just didn’t expect that reaction.”

  “I’m sure.” I cross my arms.

  He combs his fingers through his hair and says, “I wanted to see how you were.”

  “No doubt. So you could report back to Daddy-o.”

  “Have I said something to piss you off?”

  He’s genuinely clueless.

  “Let’s get one thing straight. I do not like your father. He’s a creepy fuck. You being here tells me one thing. He sent you to get information. He has you on a tether so short, you’re probably choking on it right now. Am I right, Kestrel?”

  He fidgets. Then he actually rubs his neck. Unbelievable.

  “What exactly did Kolson tell you?”

  His question tells me he’s unsure of where to go with this.

  I laugh. “Seriously? Do you think I’m going to share anything with you that Kolson and I discussed?” I lean into him. “But I will share this with you. I’m a shrink. I study behaviors for a living. Went to school for twelve fucking years studying this stuff and I know when I see some sick shit. And your dad … he’s the cream of the crop. Now, as I stand here and look at you fidgeting and twitching, it tells me one thing. You’re scared, Kestrel. I’m sure the dragon, as you call him, has some kind of hold on you. Whether it’s physical, emotional, psychological, or all of the above, it’s strong. It’s so strong that you reek of it. So, until you can cut those ties with him, I’m not telling you a goddamn thing. Am I clear?”

  He nods as he rubs his arms. Over and over. Tactile. He has to touch himself. It was something I saw at the party but stowed away because of what happened between Kolson and me. Jesus, what the hell did that fucker do to these boys when they were young?
Kolson with the dark and now Kestrel rubbing his arms repeatedly, unable to stop?

  Extending my hand, I reach out to see if he’ll allow me to touch him. I’m not prepared for his reaction. “Kestrel, I’m worried about him. I hope you are too.”

  He grabs my hand and clamps it to his arm. His eyes close and his head drops back as if he’s in ecstasy.

  “Kestrel?”

  He’s almost in a trance.

  “Kestrel?” I say, louder this time.

  His head pops up. “Sorry. I was lost in thought. Yes, I hope he’s okay. Will you call me if you hear anything?” He still holds my hand on the top of his arm. Weird.

  “I will.”

  “Gabby. I know you love him.”

  “More than I can even tell you.”

  “We all had … difficult times with our father.”

  “I’m sorry you call it that. I’d call it abuse.”

  “Yes, I can see how you would.”

  I look pointedly at his hand clasping mine and he follows my gaze. He immediately releases me.

  “Kestrel, if you ever want or need to talk, I know a good shrink.”

  His sweater has edged up his arm and I can see a tattoo peeking out.

  Without asking, I push his sleeve back. Not only does he have one, he has an entire sleeve. He yanks his arm out of my hand.

  “I’d love to look, if you don’t mind.”

  He’s wary as his stance wavers. But he gives in and pushes his sleeve back to reveal an intricately designed piece of art. It’s stunning. There are so many things tucked away in it that it would take days to pick it apart.

  “How long did this take?”

  “It’ll never be finished. I have things added all the time.”

  “It’s unreal. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  Doubt creeps into his voice. “Do you mean that?”

  “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

  “Oh.” He lets me look. “I have a lot of ink. A lot. All over.”

  All tactile. Interesting.

  I laugh. “I’d like to see it, but I’m sure some of it would be inappropriate.”

  He laughs and agrees.

  And suddenly, he blurts, “You’re right about my father.” And then he silently mouths, “He’s a sick fuck.”

  I find it odd that he doesn’t say it out loud.

  Our eyes meet in acknowledgment, but I know I’ll never trust Kestrel. Not until he leaves his father’s side.

  “Why do you stay?”

  He frowns and digs his hands in his pockets, then murmurs, “Do you know who my father is? I mean, really know him? I can’t leave. Kolson left but he’ll be back one day. You’ll see. Be careful, Gabby. You’re not safe. Not with Langston Hart pissed off at you. Heed my words. And I’m not threatening you. I’m just giving you a heads-up.” He leans on the table as he waits for the elevator. Then he steps in and is gone.

  ***

  The next afternoon Kolson’s phone buzzes. Yes, I still carry it around. Yes, it’s crazy. I answer and Langston’s fierce voice comes at me.

  “Where is my son?”

  “No clue. But if I did know, I sure wouldn’t tell you.”

  “You little … This is all your fault. HTS was supposed to be mine. How did you arrange all this?”

  “Arrange what? Did you have something to do with his disappearance? Because I’m sure the police would like to hear about that.”

  “Listen to me, you conniving little bitch. You have no idea who you’re speaking to. You don’t mess around with me or you’ll be sorry. If my son calls, you tell him I’m waiting for that debt to be paid.”

  “What debt and how much does he owe?”

  Langston laughs. “Oh, baby girl, he didn’t tell you, did he?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “About the deal he struck with me?”

  “What deal?”

  He cackles and I want to throw the phone across the room.

  “Oh, this is divine. But you’re going to have to wait. I’m not going to tell you. I’ll let Kolson.” And then his voice switches from gleeful to menacing. “He’s not dead, nor is he missing. This is just his little plan to avoid paying up. He’s not holding up his end of the bargain and when I find him, I’m going to make him pay. No one fucks with Langston Hart. Keep that in mind.”

  He ends the call and I walk out of Kolson’s office, past the secretary, through the entrance to the executive level, and into the elevator. With shaking hands, I press the button that will take me down to the lobby. The guards greet me and I only nod. I don’t have a destination in mind … just anywhere but here. Ridding my head of those thoughts of that awful man is my goal. I exit the building and the city noises are a welcome invasion. For once, the smell of car exhaust, street vendors with their hot dogs and pretzels and pizza make me feel calm. My hands cease trembling.

  Until I feel two hands clamp my upper arms.

  “Dr. Martinelli. Come with us.”

  “Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter. Don’t fight us and we won’t harm you.”

  Who are they?

  They lead me to a stretch limousine and usher me into the back, where the windows are darkened. When I get in and the door slams, the car takes off.

  Langston Hart is seated in the corner.

  “Behave, and you won’t get hurt. Don’t behave, and I can’t promise anything.”

  “What do you want?” I put on a brave front, but fear ripples down my spine.

  “Kolson. Plain and simple.”

  “I don’t know where he is. I’ve already told you that.”

  “Gabby, you’ve also told me you wouldn’t tell me if you did know. So that leads me to believe you know something.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He laughs and then grips my wrist firmly. It hurts. A lot. He presses down until it’s extremely painful. He leans into me and his nasty voice says, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. You can find out exactly how crazy I can be if you don’t cooperate.”

  I try to pull my arm away, but I’m no match. Between clenched teeth, I grit out, “So what? Are you going to make me disappear too?”

  “What do you mean ‘too’?”

  “Just like you made Kolson disappear?”

  “I didn’t make him do anything.”

  I’m sweating now from the pain. If he doesn’t release my wrist soon, I’m sure he’ll break it. “Right. Now you’re here, going to do the same to me.”

  His demeanor alters and he lets my wrist go. Maybe it has finally sunk in that I don’t know where Kolson is. “I think I might just believe you, baby girl.”

  I pull my arm into my chest and cradle it. He laughs. “But remember this. If he does show up, you’ll be the first he contacts and then you need to call me.” This is where he scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to let on, but I know he knows. It’s hard to quell the dew perspiration dotting my upper lip and forehead. And it’s nearly impossible to stem the shudders threatening to overtake me. “Because if you don’t, and I get my hands on that son of a bitch, rest assured I’ll kill him.”

  He stabs the car roof with his fist several times. The driver pulls over and I’m in such shock, I’m not aware that it’s my cue to get out. That is until the door is opened and my arm is nearly yanked from its socket as I’m hauled out and left standing on the sidewalk as the car drives away.

  I am so perplexed by what has just transpired that my legs can’t move. People push and shove to get past me and eventually, I find I’m close to a building, out of the way of pedestrian traffic. I’m not even sure where I am. I check the street signs to find I’m fifteen blocks from my office. My thoughts fall into place, like pieces of a puzzle, and this confirms that Langston is far beyond what I’ve given him credit for. He’s maniacal and threatening. And I don’t doubt he’d kill Kolson. But why? What is his goal? Is it HTS? Is that all? Granted, it’s huge. But there has to be more behind it.

&
nbsp; And this debt. What is that all about? My answers lie with Kolson. But where the hell is he? And how will I find him before Langston does?

  I glance at my wrist and see the swelling and purple bruise already forming. That afternoon, I will call Case and get him to enroll me in a self-defense class. I’m not sure how effective it will be against an armed man, but at least it’s something.

  When I make the call, Case says he’s going to teach me how to shoot—and he’ll get me a gun. I can’t walk around feeling like Langston Hart could pull me into his limo again. The next time he tries to do so, I’m going to fight back, and fight hard. He’s not messing with some simpering idiot. Gone are the days where I don’t fight back. This time, I’m going at him with everything I’ve got.

  I have to protect Kolson, wherever the hell he is. That dragon has done enough damage.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kolson

  Enough is enough. One month. Four weeks. Twenty-eight days. Six hundred seventy-two hours. Not one word or touch. I have to see her. I can’t wait another minute. To let her know I’m okay. To see if she’s okay.

  I work it out with Sam to set up a fake delivery to the penthouse. But instead, I stay in the building and don’t leave. I plan it so the delivery takes place around the changing of the security teams. They don’t keep track of when I go in and out.

  It’s a pain in the ass, because I have to evade people, so I end up hanging out in the stairwells. When I think Gabriella will be in bed, I climb to the top floor. Using the keypad, I let myself into the penthouse. I disarm the security system and quietly move through the apartment. When I get to our bedroom, it’s unoccupied. The bathroom has everything in it, just as it was the day I left. All my things are on my side by my sink, and all hers are on her side. Her makeup drawer is stocked and it lets me know she’s still living here. I pause to think; she must be sleeping in her old studio.