Authors: Elizabeth Moynihan
“Miles, what the hell’s the matter with you?” Manning Senior growled, his face suddenly going pale as he looked up and found his gaze trapped beneath the full fury of Aleksei Rocmanov’s glowing ebony eyes, just as his body was trapped between the long limo and Aleksei’s muscled form.
“Where has your son taken Chloe?” Aleksei’s voice was as smooth as a sheet of freshly Zambonied ice, and just as cold, a muscle ticked dangerously in his clenched jaw.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the elder Manning stated casually, his shoulders lifting in a small shrug.
“I’ll repeat the question again, just on the off chance all this outside noise is affecting your hearing. Where has your son taken Chloe?”
Manning Senior shrugged off Aleksei’s hold, straightening his designer suit coat with a sharp snap of his wrists, and summoned up an expression filled with disdain. “My son was expected to join me for dinner. As you can see, he hasn’t arrived yet.”
Aleksei caught sight of Sergei’s headlong rush toward Manning Senior and was only just able to stop him before he tackled the older man and sent him crashing against the limo. Sergei’s momentum was so strong that Aleksei was barely able to contain the struggling younger man filled with fury and finally had to lock his arms around his son to keep him from assaulting Manning, who now leaned pressed against the limo, a wary look in his eyes.
“Where is Chloe?” Sergei raged, straining against his father’s hold, nearly breaking free.
“As I told your father, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Manning Senior answered warily.
“Bull shit! Andrew came here, punched my sister in the face and kidnapped Chloe. Now I want to know, where the fuck did he take her?” Sergei yelled.
Manning Senior looked from Sergei to Aleksei and back, and felt a flash of jealousy as he recognized not only their physical similarities that marked them father and son, but the emotional bond that tied the two together. Despite Aleksei’s physical hold on his son, his emotional bond was keeping him from committing physical assault as much as anything, and the elder Manning wondered briefly why he’d never felt the same thing with his own son. The feeling passed quickly though, he had long ago made his decision; wealth, power and prestige was what interested him. Not the touchy-feely, ‘oh look at my son’ part of life. Granted, he’d spent a bit of money fixing his son’s ‘mistakes’, but when you knew the right people, it was a snap!
“You should really put a leash on your son, Mr. Rocmanov. Such public displays are embarrassing,” Manning Senior stated in disgust, casting Sergei a derisive look.
Aleksei was barely able to contain Sergei’s sudden burst of fury at the older man’s words and attitude. “If you know anything Manning, I would suggest you mention it now. Because if I find out later you knew something, and didn’t tell us, I can’t vouch for your safety,” Aleksei growled, sighing in relief and releasing his hold on Sergei, as two police officers joined them.
“Personal threats are against the law, Mr. Rocmanov,” Manning Senior intoned in his most serious ‘court voice’.
“I’m making no threat, I’m simply stating a fact,” Aleksei returned quietly, his voice a study of calmness, despite the burning rage that flowed in his veins.
“Mr. Rocmanov, you were right about the video cameras in the parking lot. They were working and we’ve got lots of very clear, very concise footage of Andrew Manning forcibly removing Chloe Spenser from the premises,” One officer stated, suddenly directing his gaze toward the elder Manning. “Is there anything you can tell us that might aid in discovering where your son may have taken Miss Spenser?” the officer asked calmly.
“How can I be certain what you’re telling me is true? Until I see the tapes and officially identify my son, it could simply be someone who looks very similar to him,” Manning blustered.
The two officers looked at each other in disbelief. Each of them hated dealing with attorneys, hated the fact that all too often criminals were set free to continue to reign terror on innocent people simply because they had the right attorney to grease the locks that set them free. “Mr. Manning, several people have identified your son as being the one on that video tape, his fingerprints clearly match the fingerprints that were found on the back door leading out to the parking lot. Now, if you want to waste valuable time seeing the tape for yourself and disavowing any knowledge of your son’s whereabouts, that’s up to you. However, if, in the future, we discover that you had knowledge as to your son’s plans, or in any way helped him to successfully execute those plans, that makes you an accessory to the crime of kidnapping. The last time I looked, that crime carried a stiffer sentence than vandalizing a vehicle,” the officer stated with a calm casualness that belied the way he truly wanted to punch the old man in his smug nose.
Manning Senior looked from the officers to Aleksei and finally to Sergei, who still looked ready to pounce if given the chance. In the span of a few seconds he went from a blustering, big shot attorney, to a subdued, beaten man suddenly showing his age. “Several acquaintances have hunting cabins in the area, but I honestly don’t know where he’s taken her.”
“Bull shit!” Sergei growled.
“I’m telling you the truth. If it’s any consolation, he’s not supposed to hurt her, simply keep her away from the competition tomorrow so you’d be disqualified and lose your berth for Nationals,” Manning explained tiredly.
“Is this ‘not hurt her’ like the other times he’s ‘not hurt her’?” Sergei asked quietly, his tone deadly and flat, his dark eyes burning with a fire that made him glad there were police officers standing there.
“I didn’t know,” Manning Senior offered weakly.
“I don’t believe you. How could your son be abusing his partner that way and you not know?” Aleksei asked in disbelief, shaking his head in astonishment, his eyes filled with disgust.
Manning could only shrug his shoulders and shake his head back and forth. “Maybe I didn’t want to see it, because then I’d have to acknowledge there was problem and do something about it.”
“Well, you’d damn sure better do something about ‘the problem’ now, because if you don’t, I will,” Sergei stated dangerously, his look daring anyone to say anything. Pointedly he looked directly at Manning Senior, his dark gaze steady and sure, “And if you want to take that as a personal threat, feel free to do so.”
Sergei turned, leaving the other four men behind to locate his mother and check on the status of Dani and Hunter.
Aleksei watched his son walk away, his head held high, his wide shoulders back, his stride determined and he felt a wave of pride wash over him. A light slap on his shoulder, by one of the police officers, had him turning to face the smaller man.
“You’ve got a fine son, Mr. Rocmanov!” The officer stated, nodding toward Sergei’s retreating back.
The wide smile on Aleksei’s face told the officer he heartily agreed.
T
he nagging pulse that steadily grew to a persistent throbbing in her head pulled Chloe to wakefulness, and showed her nothing but darkness. Groaning in pain, she discovered the soft sound might as well have been the drum section of a marching band for the additional pain it caused her. Holding her head in her hands, she tried to focus on simply breathing, and ignore the pain in her head. Her fingers brushed over a painful bump, her fingers entangling in the stiff strands of hair that surrounded it. As she sought to free her fingers, the tugging reopened a wound that ran over the top of the bump and caused a small trickle of blood to run anew, it’s pungent, metallic scent enough to send her stomach flipping. The vague image of Andrew hitting her with the flashlight had her silently cursing him to hell.
For several minutes she sat silent in the darkness, focusing solely on breathing steadily and calming her rolling stomach, trying to gather her wits enough to form one coherent thought. Eventually the painful throbbing evened out to a manageable dull thudding and the urge to be sick dissipated.
Slowly, and cautiously, she felt her way around in the dark, her hands carefully skimming the cold, wood floor. Her short trek had her guessing her enclosure was not much bigger than a closet, but as her fingers brushed over her purse, a small cry of victory escaped her lips, sending another shaft of pain through her head that she tried to ignore as she opened the small purse. Blindly, she searched through the contents, quietly pleading, “Let it be there, oh, please, let it be there,” as she felt each item and pushed it aside in search of what she sought. Finally, her fingers closed around the smooth cylinder shaped mini-flashlight attached to a key ring Aleksei had pressed into her hand weeks before, stating, with a smile and a wink, ‘you’ll never know when you’ll find yourself in a dark spot.’ Now she smiled her own smile, one filled with relief.
The little stream of light the mini-flashlight cast looked extraordinarily bright in the deep blackness of the closet, as she had guessed, she now found herself locked in. Empty, but for her, there was nothing she could use to try to break free. The cross bar the hangers would have been hung on, if there were any, was gone and even the hinges were on the outside of the door. So much for knocking the pins out of the hinges and pushing the door open.
Looking around the small closet, she noted that although it was empty of anything useful, it was also free from spiders; something she was especially thankful for. Tapping her nails against the floor rhythmically, she pondered her predicament and listened for any outside sounds. It came as no surprise, there were none; she was alone.
Wiggling the doorknob, just to be sure it hadn’t magically unlocked, she frowned when it didn’t move beneath her fingers and rapped on the door, trying to determine how solid it was. With a little sigh, she whispered, “Thank you,” as a hollow echo reached her ears. Getting to her feet, and bracing her hands on the walls to steady herself as a wave of dizziness washed over her, she breathed slowly in and out, concentrating on the fine beam of light that the flashlight gave off.
It seemed to take forever for her world to steady, but finally she felt secure enough to move again. Shifting in the small space, she moved until she could place her back against the wall and stretch her left leg toward the door. Holding it steady at doorknob height, she braced her shoulders against the wall and kicked at the door, cursing in pain when the heel of her shoe snapped off and a sharp stab of pain shot up through her leg and into her hip.
“Of all days to wear heels, why’d it have to be today?” Chloe chided herself, her voice filled with pain and frustration as she rotated her foot in circles and tried to ease the painful throbbing. But then she remembered the smoldering look in Sergei’s eyes when he’d seen her step into his view, wearing the short black dress and sexy black stockings and high heels and answered her own question, smiling in memory.
Thinking of anything but how much her foot hurt, she wiggled the door handle, her brow creasing as she wondered if it moved anymore now than it did before she kicked the stupid thing. It certainly felt a bit looser. Or was it only wishful thinking?
Lifting her still throbbing foot, she again placed it as close to the door handle as she could without fear of accidentally kicking it, bent her knee and drew her leg straight back, her hands braced on either side wall. With the flashlight clenched between her teeth and knowing it was going to hurt, she kicked out with every ounce of strength she had, groaning in pain as her foot connected with the wood, hot needles of pain exploding in her foot and rampaging up her leg. Yet, despite the pain that exploded through her leg, the realization she had felt the door move suddenly had adrenaline racing through her body, pushing the pain aside and focusing all her energy on the splintered door.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her leg, placed her foot on the dented section of wood by the handle. Sergei’s face came to her mind, and she could feel him beside her, encouraging her, calling her, loving her. With a roar of defiance, she kicked the door with every ounce of strength she could pull from inside herself.
The sound of wood splintering as the door burst open and then slammed against the wall filled the dark room. As Chloe shone the narrow beam of the flashlight into the deserted room of what appeared to be an abandoned cabin, she limped out of the closet, adrenaline still keeping her from feeling the pain in her foot. Slowly she made her way outside, the narrow beacon of light her only guide, and found herself on a small porch. Looking around her, the cabin was a nearly invisible dot in a forest of tall pine trees and the thought they’d never find her briefly crossed her mind before she raged to the heavens, “Fuck you, Andrew Manning!”
Her energy disappearing, she wearily sat down on the top step of the porch, and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the increasing cold of the night. Fighting back tears that suddenly threatened to fall as the adrenaline that had kept the pain at bay dissipated; the throbbing in her foot became more and more painful.
“Hurry, Sergei. It’s so cold,” Chloe murmured into the quiet night, her breath forming little puffs of vapor in the cold air. As she looked into the clear, black sky, the stars reflected in her sapphire eyes.
Sergei bolted upright from where he had been sitting in the back of the police cruiser, his head resting against the back of the seat, his mind blank, as they searched the areas Manning Senior had designated as possible destinations his son may have taken Chloe. As surely as if she’d been sitting next to him, he’d heard her words. ‘Hurry, Sergei. It’s so cold.’ And he could feel the cold stealing her strength. “We have to hurry, Dad. Chloe’s cold,” Sergei’s voice broke as fear stole into his heart.
“Sergei?” Aleksei asked quietly.
“I heard her, Dad. She’s cold. We have to hurry,” Sergei repeated urgently, his words low so the officers who sat in the front seat didn’t think he was totally nuts and a candidate for the Twilight Zone.
“We’ll find her,” Aleksei stated firmly, squeezing his son’s shoulder for reassurance and comfort.
Sergei looked into his father’s dark eyes, saw his own frightened look reflected back and realized this was probably how his father had felt when Jordan had nearly died in the automobile accident so many years before. The feelings of helplessness, rage, and hope, all mixed up together. With a small nod, understanding passed between the two men and Sergei leaned back against the seat, his eyes closing as he concentrated on wishing that there were some way he could reassure Chloe they were on their way.
“We’re coming, Chloe. I love you.” She heard Sergei’s deep voice as surely as if he’d been next to her, could almost feel the gentle touch of his hand as he stroked her cheek.
Heaving a sigh of relief, she sat silently on the hard wood step, surrounded by the cold, dark night, a tiny flashlight beam barely breaking through the inky darkness of the night as she waited for Sergei to fulfill his promise.
Five minutes later, the squad car’s headlights broke through the narrow dirt road that lead to the ancient hunting cabin, its bright beams shining on the lone figure that sat huddled on the top step. A small, faint beacon of light, curved in an arc as it swayed from side to side, guided them forward.
“Base? This is three-David-twelve; we may have found something. Stand-by,” the police officer stated, casting his partner a hopeful glance as he pulled the car up to the porch, put it into park and shut off the engine, leaving the headlights on and pointed at the porch steps.
Both officers exited the car, flashlights in hand, their broad beams searching the area in broad sweeps as they made their way toward the stairs.
Chloe turned her head away from the bright beams, the light hurting her eyes and making her aware of the headache that pounded with renewed vengeance.
“Miss Spenser? Miss Chloe Spenser?” One of the officers asked quietly, making his way cautiously toward the ramshackle stairs, while his partner hung back and continued to search the dark night.
“Yes.” The word was nothing more than a soft whisper.
The officers smiled.
“Base, this is three-David-twelve. We’ve got her!”
Sergei heard the words come across the police radio and looked to his father for confirmation he’d heard correctly what he thought he’d heard, and that it wasn’t just wishful thinking. Aleksei’s single nod and relieved smile allowed Sergei to release the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. His emotions were strung beyond their limit, the calm façade disappeared and he began to shiver uncontrollably, his breath suddenly hard to catch as tears filled his eyes.
Aleksei pulled his son into his arms, held him tightly and securely, and whispered quietly into his ear. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
Sergei finally allowed his tears to fall silently as he sobbed in his father’s arms, his relief so great that Chloe was found and safe that everything else was secondary. All he could think about was seeing her; holding her again and he swore she’d never be out of his sight again.
The sharp shrill of sirens destroyed the peaceful silence of the forest’s dark night as several police cars, and an ambulance raced down the dirt roadway and converged on the dilapidated hunting cabin. Now the police would begin to look for clues; clues that tightly, and undeniably, tied Andrew Manning to the kidnapping and assault of Chloe Spenser.
Officers were still busy encircling the hunting cabin with yellow police tape when the squad car bearing Sergei and Aleksei pulled through the tall pines and followed the dirt and gravel path that led to the cabin.
A lone ambulance sat parked a few yards away from the cabin, it’s interior lights on and the back doors open as Chloe sat wrapped in a blanket on the floor, her legs dangling over the back bumper, being hovered over by two paramedics.
If Sergei could have gotten out of the squad car by himself, he would have done so before the officer pulled the vehicle to a stop, but without working inside door handles, he had no choice but to wait impatiently for the back door to be opened for him.
Sergei barely allowed the police officer to open the door for him before he burst from the confines of the back seat. Focused solely on reaching Chloe, he slalomed between officers as he ran toward the ambulance, his deep voice calling her name.
Chloe looked up at the sound of her name being called by the voice that would forever bring a smile to her lips and her heart, her eyes narrowing against the bright lights as she sought its source. There were so many people, and shadows shifted as people crossed in front of the headlights of the numerous vehicles that crowded the immediate area, yet she still looked for him, feeling his presence even though she couldn’t see him.
“Chloe!” he yelled, his long, muscular legs closing the distance between them, his eyes finally reaching hers, and never leaving.
“Sergei.” His name escaped her lips as she pushed off the back of the ambulance, surprising the paramedics with her unexpected movement, the blanket slipping from her shoulders with her first step. Sharp, knife-like pain slashed through her left foot as she stumbled the few steps toward Sergei. Crying out in pain, her ankle gave out and sent her falling toward the hard ground.
The feel of Sergei’s strong arms encircling her and lifting her into the air, had her laughing and crying at the same time. Her arms automatically looped about his neck, her mouth spreading welcome kisses over his face before settling hotly over his mouth and sharing a kiss that expressed more emotions than either could have spoken of.
Time ceased to exist for them, the world disappeared and they found themselves adrift in a velvet box surrounded by stars as bright as diamonds, lost in each other’s eyes, hearts and souls.
They were together, they were safe and their love made them unbeatable.
“Miss Spenser, we need to transport you to the hospital,” one of the paramedics stated quietly, looking at the imposing young man who held her so effortlessly in his arms.
“The hospital?” Sergei’s deep voice asked in concern, noticing the dark smear of dried blood that trailed down the left side of her head and tangled her honey and gold toned hair. “Christ, Chloe. What did he do to you?” he asked quietly, his tone filled with both anguish and anger.
“I’m okay, Sergei,” she answered softly, forcibly holding his chin in her hand and holding his dark, fiery gaze captive, until she saw the anger begin to subside.