Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

A gony drummed throughout Jazz’s body. What was going on? Was she sick, or had she been involved in an accident? Her head felt overlarge and pounded like a jackhammer.

She tried to remember what had happened, but her mind was a complete blank. With the greatest effort, she managed to squint her eyelids open. Though her vision was blurred, she could make out a large bedroom. From what she was able to see, it was beautifully and expensively decorated, which meant she was neither in the small, ratty motel room she’d been staying in, nor was she at her apartment in Montana.

Where was she? And what on earth had happened?

Swallowing past a sudden wave of nausea, she closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on what she could remember.

She had been in Seattle, trying to find a lead on Brody. She had run out of ideas and decided she needed a meal to keep going. She had opened her motel room door and sensed immediate danger. She’d been about to go back into the room when she’d felt someone behind her. She had turned—and faced four large men.

Things got even blurrier after that.

She knew she had fought like hell, like she’d been taught. She knew she had caused some damage. Remembered the sounds of broken bones, busted noses, and violent curses each time she’d hit her mark. But as hard as she had fought, she had lost. As much as she hated to make excuses, four against one was unfair.

She remembered her head slamming against a wall, which had momentarily stunned her. They had taken advantage of that, because she also remembered a sting in her neck. Had she been drugged?

She lightly touched the back of her head and winced, feeling the goose egg. Yeah, there it was, and it hurt.

Requiring more effort than she liked, she gingerly sat up on the bed. The room whirled around her, and she swallowed hard to beat down the nausea. She had never had a concussion, but the signs were all there. So were the symptoms of being drugged. She had a feeling it was a double whammy. Underneath the nausea and pain, a fury of epic proportions was boiling within her. Whoever had done this was going to suffer monumental regret before this was over. This she swore.

Pulling in a breath to center herself and suppress the ill feeling, she searched for clues about where she was. The room was quite beautiful, easily the size of her entire apartment. The bed was the largest one she’d ever seen—extra king-sized maybe? The floor was a dark hardwood, the walls were creamy eggshell, the crown molding a slightly darker shade, and the artwork was exquisite. Whoever had taken her was apparently very wealthy.

And now for the two billion-dollar questions: Who had taken her and why?

She took another breath and allowed her training to squash her anxiety. Compartmentalizing her circumstances would help her focus. She started with the positive. She was alive. She was still wearing her clothes, so no sexual assault. Judging by the appearance of the room, her captor wanted her to be comfortable, at least for now. She also noted several bottles of water and a plate covered with a dome, so she wasn’t to be starved either.

Now for the negative. She had been taken by an unknown person, or persons. The men who had abducted her hadn’t been reluctant to hurt her. Which meant what? That if she didn’t comply or obey, she would be punished or killed?

Moving on from that speculation, she continued her mental list and grimaced as the absolute worst negative moved to the forefront. No one knew where she was. Removing her tracking chip had made sense at the time, and she had not done it lightly. As an OZ operative, she was required to have one. She had even soundly criticized other OZ members for removing theirs, thinking how irresponsible they’d been. But she had known that if she was going to find Brody without anyone knowing, she’d had no choice but to hide her whereabouts. And now, because of that, she was on her own.

A noise outside the door jerked her out of her self-flagellation. Setting her jaw, she braced for whatever she would face as the door opened.

A tall, slender man with thinning brown hair and a smarmy smile entered. Jazz had no idea who he was, but the guy gave off a chilling, evil vibe. Considering he was followed by two of the four goons who’d attacked her, she could only surmise he was the one who gave the orders.

She didn’t rise from the bed. As much as she would like to show strength by being on her feet and facing these monsters, throwing up or passing out—both of which were real possibilities—would not help her cause. Compromising, she sat up and settled her expression in a stone-cold glare.

The two goons bore the injuries she’d dealt them, and despite her circumstances, Jazz felt a burst of pride that she’d been able to do that. One man sported a taped, swollen nose, and she vividly remembered the satisfying crunch she’d delivered. The other man had his arm in a sling and multiple bruises on his face. Where were the other two? She didn’t remember killing any of them, but perhaps they weren’t able to walk. It lifted her spirits to think she might have incapacitated them.

“Hello, my dear, how are you?” The older man’s voice had an abrupt clip to it, as if he was impatient to get the words out.

She didn’t answer his ridiculous, mundane question. She had been knocked out and abducted—likely on his orders. He didn’t care about her. Besides, giving him anything, even that little bit of information, wasn’t going to happen. It had taken her years to learn that silence made people uncomfortable, and they would naturally fill the empty air with chatter. In that chatter, one could learn a wealth of knowledge. Not only that, she knew her voice would be shaky and breathless. Not the strong front she wanted to give off. Her head pounded, and every part of her felt as limp as wilted lettuce. She needed information, and then she would figure out what needed to be done.

He tilted his head as if slightly puzzled that she hadn’t answered. “My apologies for the injuries you sustained. That was not supposed to happen. The two men who caused your injuries were local hires and have been severely disciplined.”

He sent a look to one of the men, who gave him an abrupt nod and a growling, “Yes, sir.”

The older man continued, “These two have assured me they caused you no damage, but they are here to offer you their apologies for hiring such inconsiderate buffoons.”

Her memory might be fuzzy, but she clearly remembered these two men were the ones who’d caused her the most pain. The other two might’ve bruised her up, but the men in front of her had hurt her the most. The one with the busted nose had slammed her head into the wall. She hoped his nose was extremely painful.

Busted-Nose Guy stepped forward. Mean eyes met hers, and the warning within them was clear. Say anything, and he’d get her back. She kept her counsel. Speaking now went against her current plan, but she might play this card later at some point.

“What do you have to say for yourselves, gentlemen?” their boss said.

Both men mumbled, “We’re sorry,” in unison.

The older man snapped, “Leave.”

The goons moved much faster than when they’d walked into the room. Within seconds, they were gone, and she was left with the creepy old guy, who was still smiling at her as if he knew her. He was acting friendly, but his light brown eyes were cold and emotionless.

“You still look quite pale, but I want to assure you that you’re going to be fine,” he said. “The doctor thought you might have a slight concussion. That, along with the drugs my men were forced to give you, is causing your sickness. For your own good, you’ll be confined to this room for the next few days until you recover.”

Forced to give her drugs? Confined for her own good?

This guy apparently just liked to hear himself speak, because there was no way she was buying this crap.

When she still didn’t respond, a flash of anger crossed his face. “I must say, your refusal to talk is quite troubling. Obedience will be the cornerstone of our relationship. However, as you are likely still in pain, I will forgive the slight for right now.”

She couldn’t argue with that since her head felt as though someone were hammering on her brain. Until she felt better, there was no point in attempting escape. When she did try, she knew she’d get only one chance. She had to make the most of it. Since it didn’t appear he meant her any immediate harm, she would lie low and play the obedient patient.

“You were quite adept at defending yourself. Wherever did you learn those skills?”

When she continued to just stare at him, the smile disappeared, and his face matched the coldness in his eyes. “I was also told you had weapons on you. A gun and a knife. That’s quite impressive for a little girl. Do you know how to use them?”

If she hadn’t felt so awful, she might’ve laughed. The guy knew she wasn’t going to answer, but he kept on asking questions as if one of them would spark her interest.

The man huffed out a breath, all pretense of politeness gone. “I will return soon, my dear, and you will be required to speak. Until then, rest up.”

He stopped at the door and then turned, giving her that smarmy smile again. “I look forward to talking with you soon, Jasmine. Or do you still prefer Jazz?”

She couldn’t prevent her gasp, and triumph gleamed in his eyes. He gave her a small, satisfied nod and walked out the door. The clicking of the lock barely registered as she absorbed the information he’d purposely revealed.

He knew her real name.

How? She never carried her real identification with her on a job.

The reason she’d been taken became an even more bizarre mystery.

Covering her face with her hands, Jazz drew in a shaky breath. She was in trouble. Because she’d taken a leave of absence, no one knew she had been taken.

Kate had once told her that her independence and recklessness would one day come back to bite her. Apparently, that day was today.

Jazz forced herself to her feet. She had to get out of this bed and get more intel. There was no telling how much time she had before someone came back. Not knowing her location left her at a huge disadvantage. She needed to know as much as possible, as quickly as possible.

Her head pounded with every step, and nausea swirled within her, bringing bile to her throat. She swallowed and, grinding her teeth, forced herself to the large window across the room. The first glimpse of the view outside gave her a location. She knew the skyline well. She was in Chicago.

Letting that knowledge rattle around in her brain for a moment, Jazz shuffled to the bathroom to take care of her immediate needs.

She splashed her face with water, feeling somewhat more awake. She drew in shaky breaths and took in her appearance. A large bruise covered half her right jaw, and another one bloomed on her chin. She remembered both hits well. The swelling on the back of her head was sore, and her fingers came away with a bit of blood when she gingerly touched the knot.

The rest of her body felt achy and sore, but nothing was broken or sprained. All in all, other than the monstrous headache, nausea, and severe weakness, she’d gotten off fairly lightly.

Jazz returned to the bedroom and peered out the window again. There would be no escape from here. She was easily on the tenth floor, if not higher.

Who were these people, and what did they want with her?

He knew her real name, so this was no random abduction. She had been taken for a specific purpose.

Even though she’d been working secret ops for several years now, none of them would have put a target on Jasmine McAlister. She never used her real name with anyone other than her OZ family.

Her thoughts were fuzzy and too vague to focus.

Stumbling back to the bed, she sat and rubbed her head. This made no sense. She was no one…not really. She had no value to anyone other than her friends. Why would anyone want her?

Could this somehow be related to Brody? Had he gotten involved in something, and her captor was going to use her as leverage?

Her head now felt like it was splitting open. Unable to form another coherent thought, Jazz fell back onto the bed. Her last thought was that there was one man who would tear the world apart to find her. The only problem was, Xavier had no idea she was missing.