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“The man you trained is smarter in this world and in our business than you’ve ever been . . . and will one day replace you,” I growled, the threat in my words clear. I nodded toward the door. “Leave, and don’t come back. We’ll come to you when she’s ready—and she will be ready.”
Chapter 9
Unanswered Questions
Briar
The door to my room opened and shut, but I didn’t move to look at him from where I sat cross-legged on my bed. I continued to run my hands through my wet hair, staring at the wall as though there were a window there.
I wondered what it looked like outside here . . . wherever here was.
“Blackbird.”
I froze for a second then started finger-combing my hair again. In the four days since I’d woken up to a doctor taking an IV out of my hand, the devil hadn’t attempted to speak to me. He had brought me meals regularly—the first day staying to make sure I ate—but had otherwise left me alone.
When he spoke again, frustration laced his name for me. “Blackbird.”
“I have a name,” I said numbly and looked over my shoulder in time to see him fight back a smile. “I have a name, and I have a fiancé and parents and people who are looking for me.”
His smile abruptly fell, his face now void of all emotion. “You don’t have anyone looking for you.”
My fingers stopped running through my hair. Ice-cold dread filled me. “W-what? What did you do— What did you do to them?” I yelled, and turned to fully face him. “They didn’t do anything—I didn’t do anything to deserve this. I don’t understand why I am here,” I yelled as a mixture of sad and angry tears fell to my cheeks.
“Stop,” he commanded gently, coldly.
I gripped at my chest as different scenarios flashed through my mind. “Please tell me what happened to them.”
“You want me to play this game with you? Fine. What happened to who, Blackbird?” he snapped. “There is no one looking for you, because you had no one. Why do you think you were taken?”
It took immeasurable seconds to understand what he was saying.
“. . . you had no one. Why do you think you were taken?” Whoever they’d meant to take . . . it wasn’t me.
Which meant Kyle and his parents—my parents—were safe.
Relief filled me so fast and so profound that it made me dizzy.
“Then it was a mistake,” I choked out. “I had them, I had Kyl—” A sob forced its way from my chest. “You took everything from me,” I whispered. My right thumb and forefinger automatically went to where my ring had been on my left hand before I’d been taken, and my chest ached as I thought about Kyle.
“There’s no point in lying, you can’t leave,” the man said.
“Ly—” I cleared my throat and shook my head. “I’m not lying! I was taken by mistake. I’m supposed to be getting married in a week.”
The devil’s dark eyes narrowed in frustration, and he turned to leave as I continued shouting.
“My name is Briar Chapman,” I called out as he reached the door. “My fiancé’s name is Kyle Armstrong. His mother is the governor of Georgia. I was taken by mistake.” Then to myself, “This is a mistake.”
Hours dragged by before the door opened again. Not that it was uncommon for so long to pass between each time he visited, but I had been hoping for something different after I had given him my name and something to think about.
Then again, I doubted he cared.
“Are you ready to talk calmly now?” he asked with one dark eyebrow raised when I turned to face him.
I didn’t respond.
He walked closer until he was standing at the corner of my bed, and my hatred for him grew when I realized some distant part of my mind appreciated the way he looked.
The tie he had been wearing earlier was gone, and his shirtsleeves were now rolled up. His hands were crossed over his chest, revealing corded muscles and the scars and dark tattoos that contradicted the man he was.
