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shit of a door man who had been working for her ex. I wanted to wait until the time was right before I dealt with him. In my line of work timing is everything.
     



Chapter Fifteen
    Laura
    I woke up to feeling like my head was in a vice grip. A surge of panic set in as I looked around and discovered I was in a dank, dark basement. A flash of memory washed over me and I remembered letting Mark in and then everything had gone black.
    I began screaming as loudly as I could to try and get anyone’s attention. I pulled at the chains that had me bound as I screamed. It was only a matter of moments before I heard the large metal door scraping its way against the concrete opening. Surely I could talk some sense into this idiot ex-husband of mine.
    “Mark, why are you doing this? What have you gotten yourself into? What have you dragged me into?”
    “You are my ticket out of debt.” He leered at me as if he loathed the very site of me.
    “Let me go before you get yourself in more trouble than you already are, or worse yet before you get yourself killed.”
    “By who, that boyfriend of yours?”
    “Yes, he is crazy enough to do it, if you have any sense at all, you’ll let me go before this escalates to the point of no return.”
    “I was at the point of no return when I got into debt with Glazov. Now I’m at the point of simply not giving a fuck. Either you die so I can collect on your life insurance or I put a bullet in my brain to end it all. Honestly I would much rather watch you meet your demise.”
    “Have you always been such a prick and I just didn’t have sense enough to know it?”
    My head slammed against the wall as he backhanded me and a new level of pain coursed through my head as I fought passing out.
    I was in a position of utter helplessness. After all I had done to secure my safety, I still ended up being at the mercy of this asshole. No one knew where I was and there wasn’t a chance in hell on me being rescued. Was this how my life was going to end? After all that I had done to get away from my abusive husband, was I still going to die at his mercy?
     

Miller
    I grabbed a luggage cart as I scowled at the day shift doorman. I had every intention of confronting him but now wasn’t the right time to do so. I pulled the cart behind me as I warded off thoughts of crashing the little twerp’s head, face first into the desk. I had too much going on right now to deal with him and there were too many people in the lobby for me to discreetly kick his ass. When I got my hands on him I wanted the freedom to teach him a lesson he would never forget.
    I made my way to the penthouse and unlocked the door. As soon as my feet graced the doorway I knew something was terribly wrong. The lamp on the end table had been shattered and the glass and lampshade were lying on the floor giving silent testimony to the fact that there had been a struggle.
    I pulled my glock from the holster I wore and shut the door behind me. I made my way around each corner and even though I knew no one was here, I didn’t take it for granted. Assuming things in my line of work could get you killed. When I was certain no one was in the penthouse I quickly made my way to my office and booted up my computer.
    My blood ran cold as I watched my woman’s abductor drug her and shove her into a suitcase like a piece of trash. An emotion that I couldn’t remember feeling since I was a child permeated my being—pure terror. The thought of him killing her and never being able to see her again absolutely terrified me. Whether I was able to rescue her or not, he was going to die for this and before he did, I was going to make sure that he felt the same all-consuming terror I was feeling at this moment.
    I changed clothes and put on clothing that would hide the many weapons I would be carrying. A black fitted t-shirt, black jeans, shit kicking boots, and a leather jacket.
    I wore a holster, which carried my glock of choice, and stuck a backup firearm