The Dangerous Thief (Stolen Hearts #3)(17)

She got closer and kept waiting for him to pop up like the villain from a horror movie, but he seemed to be staying dead.

On the floor next to him was a cell phone that must’ve fallen out of a pocket. She knelt down and picked it up. There was no lock on it, so she started to snoop, looking for a better idea of what had happened. Had her father really sent someone to kill her? Was this the fear she was going to have to live with the rest of her life?

There were no calls in the history, but there were plenty of messages. Some recent, in the past few hours. And as she read more and more, it became obvious that she couldn’t stay here any longer.

Running wasn’t an option any more.

––––––––



––––––––

James wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see Willa in the hallway where he left her. The adrenaline was still pumping through his system and he wouldn’t be able to sit still for hours. But when he made the rounds through the house and still didn’t see her, he started to get concerned.

It had taken him longer than he expected to dig out his supply of antibiotics, but it wasn’t as though he’d been gone for hours. Just a few minutes. And she should know that even though the danger was mostly past, they were by no means in the clear.

He went through every room, one by one, but didn’t see her. Her clothes and bags were still in the room she’d been sleeping in, but there was no sign of her.

When he heard the engine start up, a shot of anger hit him. “No,” he said out loud as he ran to the front door. The remnants of the flash bomb were scattered on the floor. He ran over them until he reached the porch just in time to see the trail of dust his truck left as it disappeared over the desert.

“No,” he said again. His heart, which had barely calmed down, pounded away. She had left him. Son of a bitch. He didn’t know why he was taken by surprise. After what she’d seen him do, it only made sense that she’d run.

But what didn’t make sense was his reaction. Because as he watched that truck disappear, he knew without a doubt that he was going to track her down.

He was going to get Willa back, come hell or high water and no matter who he had to kill.





The pounding music should feel like home to Willa, but all she could think about was how wrong this was. She wasn’t supposed to be doing this. She wasn’t supposed to be this person.

Ignoring the lingering doubts, she slammed back her fifth shot of tequila and the bar patrons around her all let out shouts of joy at her feat. She screamed along with them as her head swam. The smile on her face was painful, but it was all part of the act. “Whooo!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, riling up the crowd even more. “I think everyone else here needs a drink!” And then the already riled-up group screamed once more as they started to argue over what the drink should be as the bartender gave her a subtle annoyed look. Just pour the drinks, buddy. You’ll thank me when you see your tip.

She glanced around her and looked for the telltale sign that the jig was up. She had been spending her little heart out, waiting for her credit card to get flagged. She had her story ready to go and she was going to sort this out. All she needed was for her father to find her.

It had been two days since she had left James. It killed her not to tell him, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that he would listen to her reasons. But she needed to do this. To face this head on.

She wasn’t a runner anymore. She was a survivor. She had been stabbed, damn it. There was something to be said for that.

Even though she had never spent all that much time in Vegas, thanks to her platinum American Express card, she had been getting the all-star treatment. It had taken her only an hour to find a doctor on the down low. She’d always known that the line between the rich and criminal world were blurred. There had always been easy access to drugs and the black market in her world. But now that she started to realize exactly how close her family was to that criminal world, it felt all the more strange as she got the pharmaceutical drugs handed to her in the middle of a five-star restaurant.

As the music changed to a new popular song that pumped through the club, she bounced to the beat. Her side hurt with every bounce, keeping her sober and focused. That could be a good or bad thing. What she wouldn’t give to let it all go and just relax and forget all her problems. But that wasn’t who she was any longer. She was going to get this right. For once in her life, she was going to do something right.

After three more dances and even more drinks, it finally happened. Three guys in suits pushed their way through the crowd toward her. Willa pretended she didn’t notice them and kept on dancing, but soon enough they were closing in. Even though the thoughts of her brush with death were fresh in her mind, she forced herself to play the annoyed party girl as they grabbed her arm.

“Willa Belli?” asked Goon #1.

She acted surprised and drunk—not too difficult considering her body was more tequila than blood currently. “I’m busy,” she said, making sure to slur her words.

The guys all exchanged an annoyed glance, which was good. She was supposed to be annoying. “It’s time to get you home, Ms. Belli,” said Goon #2. Or maybe #1. They kind of blended together. But the important part was that they didn’t think she was a threat. And as she stumbled over her own feet—which was less of an act than she was proud of—she assumed she wasn’t appearing very threatening. Two guys took an arm, half grabbing and half leading her out of the club.