Page 2 of Kidnapped By My Mom's Ex

Demon yawns. He doesn’t like it when I talk like this, but I can’t talk to anybody else about it. My circle is small. My social life is nonexistent. I’ve got people I can call if I need them, and they know I’m always here, but I don’t talk much. I do my work quietly.

I tilt my head when I hear it—buzzing from deeper in the apartment. I stand, my senses flaring momentarily, but this place is locked down to all hell. If I ever needed to keep somebody here, it’d take a tank to get in or out. Luckily, that’s never been the case.

My cell phone is on charge, vibrating against the glass end table in my bedroom. Demon must’ve thought something bad was going to happen. He looms at the door, his ears flopping down almost aggressively, his tail perked.

It’s a number I don’t recognize. I let it go to voicemail, then read the text that the same number sent to me.

It’s Lena. I’m not sure you remember me.

I almost laugh at the absurdity of the statement. I remember that tight ponytail in her hair and the spark in her eyes. She’s ready to start her adventure with me and our family. She’s ready to give herself to me.

My mom’s in trouble. I need to ask you a few questions. Please answer.

As soon as I finish reading her text, the phone vibrates again. I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed, wondering what new mess this is. Who has Simone gotten involved with?

I answer the call, making myself cold as I do before violence. Or a job. Or both. “Lena,” I say, failing right away. My voice gets too husky. My throat is tight. I wish she were sitting on my lap, my hand resting on her leg. Or her chest, so I could feel her heartbeat. Then I’d lean in and taste her lips.

“J-Jamie?” she says, with a cute stutter. “I need to know something.”

“Explain what’s happening.”

“No, I just… I don’t know if I can.”

“Can what? Trust me?”

She swallows. I imagine her twisting the phone cord around her hand, even if she’s using a cell. Maybe she’s biting her lip. Then I see me approaching her, wrapping my arms around her, holding her tight so she doesn’t have to be afraid.

“Did you give Mom the money to buy this place?” she says, her voice firmer now. “Yes or no?”

I grit my teeth, goddamnit. “Explain what happened.”

“No, I—”

I don’t raise my voice, but my tone gets cold. Truly cold. It’s how I speak to drug lords and dons and supposed kingpins. “Explain. What. Happened.”

CHAPTERTHREE

Lena

It’s difficult to understand the effect his voice has on me. I’m sitting on the couch, picking at a loose strand of my pants, trying to be as brave as possible. However, his voice makes me feel like a terrified little girl. There’s a hint of a threat in it.

Suddenly, it’s like I’m hearing myself answer rather than consciously doing it. “Mom didn’t return from Vegas. I mean, her flight checked in, the cops said, but she’s not here. They think she’s just extending her bender, I guess. When I got home earlier, there was a note. It mentioned something about my dad’s wallet. Get them Dad’s wallet, and I’ll see Mom again.”

“Read the note to me,” he grunts.

I bite down. I almost snapped at him then, but he’s speaking like he’s used to being in charge. It’s weird. There’s this underlying threat to everything he says as if he’ll somehow hurt me if I don’t read the note aloud. He’s not the man I’ve been fantasizing about, that’s for sure. Is that a surprise? I never really knew him.

“Lena.” Just as gruff, his voice sends a jolt through me. “The note.”

I read it aloud. “See, just what I said.” Maybe this addition is a little petty, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.

“Are you still at home?” he asks.

“Y-yes.”

“Stay there,” he says.

“Wait, you’re coming?”

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