Chapter Six

Beckett

 

I lay in the middle of my four poster bed, arms spread out at my sides, staring at the ceiling. I hadn’t slept all night and felt rough. Fuck. I ran my hands over my face, then sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Last night I had been overconfident, I had been careless. Now I had a problem. A problem that was locked away and sleeping in the other room.

I got up and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out a couple of water bottles. The sun was starting to come up over the horizon, bathing the city in a glow. In the cupboards I took out a box of protein bars, grabbed some fruit from the bowl on my counter then carried everything with me to the library. I opened the secret door, then walked inside. I pressed my ear against the bedroom, I didn’t hear any noise. Carefully and as quietly as I could, I slid open the lock and peered inside. It was dark, but I could see her curled up in the bed. Her body looked so small against the king sized mattress. I moved carefully, not taking my eyes off her. She could be pretending to be asleep.

On the dresser, the sight of her untouched food made me frown. She needed to eat something. I put down what I had brought with me and collected the old tray, stopping at the door to look at her again. Her long legs were curled up under her, her hair fanned out against the blankets. She was here, she was helpless, and as much as I hated to admit it to myself this was all my fault. I wanted to blame her for being there, for taking risks that no sane reporter should, but none of that mattered. She was here because I let my guard down, I got exposed, and now she knew. She was the only person in the world that knew.

As I watched Ella shifted on the bed, moving slightly, and I froze. She didn’t wake up, just mumbled something in her sleep then was quiet again. I took that as my cue to leave and backed out of the room with the tray. Through the library, I tossed the ignored food and punched the cupboard. I had a problem, and no solution. I needed to think this over.

I headed for the gym and pulled on sneakers then started the treadmill, increasing the speed steadily until I was running at full speed. My feet connected with the base again and again, in minutes I was coated with sweat and my heart was hammering. It felt good to be moving, to be spending some of that energy that had been building inside of me all night as I tossed and turned. Every problem had a solution, I could figure this out. Every minute that passed counted, I needed to act. But act how, and do what?

I stopped the treadmill and wiped my face with a towel, drinking half a bottle of chilled water. Stretching out my arms and cracking my neck, I moved over to the punching bag. I got into stance then let my fists fly over and over again, beating against the worn leather. Each punch reminded me of my mistakes, of the guard I had missed who almost stabbed me. He would have stabbed me if Ella didn’t warn me. She stopped me from getting hurt, I stopped her from being raped. We should be even, but we weren’t because now she knew who I was. Even worse than that, she was a reporter.

I wound up and kicked the bag, then as it swung back towards me landed a solid punch in the centre. I leaned forward, holding the bag steady and pressing my forehead against it as I breathed hard, my muscles screaming. I could have left her there if she hadn’t seen me, but she did. I could turn her loose, but then she might reveal my identity before I have time to take down the Venetti family. The family I was certain was responsible for my parents murder, led by Marco Venetti. I end him, I end this, then she can go. It would be her word against mine and I had a high powered legal team at my disposal. I could threaten to sue the paper for libel if they printed a word. I wasn’t without resources to make this go away. But if she said something before I was ready, people would be watching me. The police. I couldn’t do what needed to happen, I wouldn’t get vengeance.

I stripped then headed into the shower, rinsing off. I needed time, which meant Ella needed to be off the radar for a few weeks. She needed to disappear for a while. I went into my bedroom, pulled on jeans and a white t-shirt, shoes, then went back into my library. On the desk sat the small clutch she had with her that night. I opened it up and poured the contents out. Nothing much in there; a tube of lipstick, some cash and her phone.

I took her phone and plugged it into my laptop. I had software for this that I used whenever I took a phone off a criminal in order to get information off it. It would have been useful to take Dale’s phone last night, I guess I need to chalk that up to yet another mistake I made. Ella really threw me off my game by being there. I plugged her phone in and let the software do its thing cracking her password, which turned out to be “1234”. I shook my head and glanced behind me at the bedroom door. Really Ella, you made it that easy?

Once I had access, I logged into her email and sent an email to her boss saying that she urgently needed a break and would be using some of her vacation time. She would be unavailable during this time and thanked him for understanding. As I went through her phone I was shocked by how little contact she had with other people. There were no contacts saved for a mom or dad. The most recent texts within the past week were from a person named Seth and another named Reya. Nothing else. This woman was as big a loner as I was, and luckily that worked to my advantage.

Seth was asking if they were still on for dinner. He was going to take her to Top of the World. I rolled my eyes, what a cheesy tourist trap. Was this guy her boyfriend? I needed him to not look for her for a while. I wrote him a message.

I can’t do dinner, I need to leave the city for a few weeks. Don’t try to reach me.

Next problem was named Reya. She was asking if everything was okay after last night. She also got a reply.

Last night was a wake up call for me. I’m skipping town for a few weeks, won’t be using my phone. I need time to think.

I shut off her phone and leaned back in my chair with a groan. First part of my problem solved, but she was still here which meant she was still an issue. I stood up and walked over to the door, placing my hand against the wood. My unplanned prisoner, the woman I had locked away in my secret room that I had no idea what to do with. I must be losing my mind. Maybe they were right about me, maybe I was losing my mind as the Phantom. Maybe I was a monster.

A soft knock on the door made me flinch. She knocked again, gently.

“Beckett?”

I stayed quiet, I didn’t answer her. I didn’t know what to say, how would I tell her that I needed to keep her here for days, maybe weeks, until she could regain her freedom? How could I tell her that I invaded her life and got in touch with everyone who knew her. Everyone who could miss her.

“Beckett? I don’t know if you’re out there, I thought I heard something. If you are, can we please talk? I want to talk to you, would you do that for me?”

I sighed.

“When I get back,” I grumbled, then I walked away.

“Get back from where? Beckett, please!”

I left my secret room, left my beautiful prisoner behind, and headed back through the penthouse towards the elevator. I went down to the garage and climbed into my Mercedes. I needed to get away, I needed to think. I needed to get the tension out, the gym hadn’t been enough. I was still wound up and angry. At myself, at the Venetti family, at the world. I drove through Vegas, further to the outskirts of the city, until I arrived at the gun range. I parked then took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel.

Stepping out of the car I went to the front desk and handed over my credit card. I was a member here, they knew me.

“Welcome back Mr. Carter,” the stocky man with greasy hair said to me from behind the counter. “What’ll it be today?”

“A pistol, Beretta.”

He went to the back, retrieved a gun for me then buzzed for me to enter.

“You’re the only one here, pick a lane.”

I held the weapon and he passed me ammo. I wandered inside, found a space then loaded the clip. As I squared my shoulders and aimed, I hit the target exactly where I wanted to each and every time. It took me years and countless bullets to get this good. I practiced arm and leg shots, damaging but not deadly when I needed information. Then I practiced head and chest, when I needed a target eliminated. I didn’t always kill the people I went after, most often I left them cuffed or tied for the police. But that wasn’t always possible. In Vegas crime meant security guards with guns, and they were paid to give their lives to protect their boss. Many of them had deep criminal records and this was the only work they could get. Still, if I could spare a life, even if that life was a hardened criminal, I did it. I knew what death meant, and only pulled the trigger when I needed to. I never killed innocent people.

I shot through sixteen rounds of ammo, my hand aching and my shoulder a bit sore from the recoil. This was enough for today. Next time there would be no mistakes. Next time I would be more careful, I would clear the room. Next time I would get to Marco Venetti and he would pay for what he had done.

I returned the weapon and headed back outside to my car, the sun was now high in the sky and beating down on the hot baked ground. I had one appointment to make this afternoon, I needed to stop by the lawyers and sign the papers and go through the acquisition of Body Tech. It wouldn’t take me long. My phone buzzed and I checked the display. It was a text from Melanie, a sexy redhead I had a fun night with weeks ago. She wanted to know if I would like to get together again. I sighed. I didn’t have time for her right now, and what would I even do? Bring a woman back to my place for a rough fuck when I had another woman my prisoner in the next room? Even I wasn’t that much of a creep.

I couldn’t help but think of Ella as I drove, think of the attraction to her I felt when she came into my office. She was strong and bold, determined but there was a softness to her. A vulnerability. She was also impulsive and reckless. What was she thinking going to that warehouse and posing as a hooker? If I hadn’t arrived when I did, those men would have…. I squeezed the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. I should have known the minute she came into my office, with her questions and her black eye, that this woman was going to be trouble for me. A few weeks, that’s all I needed. Then the two of us could go our separate ways.