Chapter Twenty-Three
Naples, Florida 1978
The look on the attorneys’ faces was almost comical as Anthony gave them a smug smile.
Pete seemed to muster up some false bravado. "Marry her? Christy Chapman? Even if you do find her—"
"When I find her," Anthony interrupted.
"Even when you find her," the harried man continued, "I can't see her marrying you."
"And why is that?" Anthony asked, his voice gruff and his stare intimidating. He stepped closer to them.
Pete took a step back. "Not trying to offend you, but even if she was into you, which I'm sure she wouldn't be, you're not exactly the kind of guy a decent woman like Christy Chapman brings home to meet the family."
Sensing that Pete may have overstepped his welcome, Dan started to say something, but Anthony waved him off.
"So, you're saying I'm not decent? Is it because of what you've heard about me?" Anthony didn't even mention the fact that the man admitted Christy was a decent woman and therefore should know that what Van was asking them to do was low and dirty. They were both agreeing to this ludicrous plan which told Anthony they were as despicable as Van.
"Well, yeah, I guess that, but you know..." Pete took a nervous swipe at his brow and looked around.
"No, I don't know." Anthony glared at him, his brows knitted together in a fierce scowl.
"I think what Pete is trying to say, and not too clearly, is obvious," Dan interjected. "C'mon, let's not tiptoe around the elephant in the room. We're all adults here, and we both know that you and Christy Chapman don't belong together. She's a woman of wealth, privilege and class and you're..." His words died off, and the tension in the air was so thick it could snap.
"Say it," Anthony growled.
"You know what I'm trying to say," Dan said, standing up a little straighter in an attempt at boldness.
"Yeah, I do know, but I want to hear you say it."
"You're an Indian, and you don't belong with a white woman," Dan practically screamed.
Pete shrunk back at Dan's outburst and waited for Anthony's retaliation. When there was none, both men fidgeted.
Anthony let them squirm for thirty seconds. In a calm voice, he said, "This is 1978, not 1878." Anthony's lip curled. "But that's not the point." He paused before adding, "You go back, and you tell Van Chapman that I don't want his one million or my seventy thousand."
The men looked back at Anthony surprised, and before either one could comment, Anthony continued, "And you let him know that if I find out that you scumbags bring his offer to someone else, I will bury the three of you, but not without you suffering slow, painful deaths."
Both men stared.
"You have no idea how I can be when it comes to stripping a man not only of his dignity, but his body parts. Did you ever hear the story about the settler who was squatting on Native American territory back when the white man first tried to steal our land? They chopped off his hands and cut a hole in his stomach. They pulled out his intestines and wrapped them around a piglet. Then they sat back and watched as the man tried to chase the squealing animal without hands while his guts were pulled out of him."
Pete started shaking, and Dan swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"That's nothing compared to what I'll do to you. Get out of my house and pray I never hear your names again."
Neither man had to be asked twice. They were out the front door in a flash. Anthony stood in his entryway and watched them speed off. When he could no longer see their car, he walked quickly to the master bedroom closet and entered the hidden room. Christy was sitting on the bed, her hands in her lap, looking up at him with her soulful and expectant bright blue eyes. He held out his hand, and she took it and followed him out to the living room. They heard X's motorcycle, and Anthony met him at the door.
"No longer an emergency, but c'mon, I have something interesting to tell you and Christy," Anthony said as X followed him to where Christy stood in the living room.
Christy didn't make a sound when Anthony repeated what Van told his attorneys to offer him. He left out the part about her monetary worth and his comment that he was going to marry her.
"What did you tell them?" she asked.
"I told them a scary Native American legend. Said it was mild compared to what I would do to them and Van if they went to anyone else with his offer."
"What was the legend?" Her voice was just a whisper.
"Doesn't matter and I don't know if it’s true or not, but it scared them, and that was my intention." He gave her a hard look, then looked at X. "But what is true is that they'll meet a worse fate if they even attempt to come near you."
She stood and wouldn't look either man in the eye. "I think I want to lie down," she said to the floor.
She started to walk past Anthony and he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. "No one is getting near you, Christy. You know that, right?" he asked.
She nodded without saying anything and broke from his grasp. He let her go and watched as she silently headed back toward his bedroom.
Anthony spent the next thirty minutes discussing business with X. After bidding Alexander goodbye, he headed for the bedroom and was surprised when he didn't find Christy on the bed. He noticed a glowing light under the bathroom door, and he knocked. "You okay, honey?" he asked, turning his ear toward the hard wood.
"It's not locked," she called back. "You can come in."
Anthony opened the door and was momentarily taken aback. She was sitting in his whirlpool tub, surrounded by candles with foam up to her chin. She must've found Veronique's stash. He walked to the tub and stood over her. She stared straight ahead at her reflection in a mirror and uttered one word.
"No."
"No?" he asked.
"No. I've never had an orgasm before." Her face was beet red, and he didn't know if it was brought on by the heat of the water or embarrassment. Christy's perfume, mingled with the lavender bubble bath, rising with the steam assaulted his senses.
She still wouldn't look at him as she stared into the mirror at the opposite end of the tub, but she knew he was undressing. In record time, he stepped into the tub and arranged himself behind her, his instant erection pressing into her back. She tried to burrow back against him even more, and her perfect breasts jutted up from the bubbles. He almost came just looking at them from over her shoulder.
"I've tried," she confessed. "I don't think I can have them. I get to a certain point. An edge I can't get over. It's frustrating. I stopped trying."
"Will you let me try?" he whispered into her ear. She didn't say anything and time seemed to stand still.
After a few more seconds she nodded.
He laid gentle kisses on her temple and neck. He used one hand to softly stroke her breast while his other hand found the spot between her legs and expertly went to work. "Don't think," he told her. "Let yourself enjoy it."
It didn't take long before she was squirming. "I can’t..." But the words died on her lips as Anthony felt her let go. She let out a scream and arched her back, her shoulders and head pressing hard into his chest. Both of her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging in deep.
Anthony watched her face in the mirror and realized that he'd never seen a more beautiful sight and he didn't need to be inside her to know what his feelings were for this woman. He found joy in her release, and he knew that he wanted to watch her experience what only he had been able to give her for the rest of their lives. He slowly turned her around to face him, and she straddled his lap, coming down slowly on his hardness. She was so tight he thought she might've lied about her virginity. When he didn't feel any resistance, he knew she'd told the truth, and he realized he didn't care. He may not have been her first, but he would make sure he was her last. She smiled at him and it shot straight to his heart. That smile was filled with passion, anticipation and maybe even a little self-consciousness. He slowly guided her, and it wasn't too long before they found a perfect rhythm. Afterward, she
leaned against his hard chest and traced a tattoo on his huge bicep.
"Do you think your sister will care that we're using her bubble bath?" she asked, her voice taking on a teasing tone.
Anthony decided not to correct her. "Nah, she probably doesn't even remember she left it here," he lied.
"Thank you," she said into his neck.
"For?" he asked, knowing what the answer was going to be.
"You know what for," she quickly countered.
"Next time I'll do it with my tongue." His voice was deep and still thick with need.
He felt her smile against his chest as he softly stroked her back.
"I could get used to this," she confessed.
Good, Anthony thought. Get used to it. Because you belong to me. You’re mine, Christy Chapman. Always, and forever, and only mine.
"Anthony?"
"Yes, Owani?"
"I'm ready for next time."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tampa, Florida 1978
Dan Mikkelson and Pete Germaine sat in the luxury hotel suite and watched Van Chapman pour himself a scotch. They'd just relayed Anthony Bear's message leaving out no detail.
"Marry her, huh?" Van scoffed.
"So he says," Dan answered. He looked around the expensive suite that couldn't have been mistaken for a rehabilitation facility. He knew Van had been able to stay under the radar by using false identities that he'd purchased. He moved from lavish location to lavish location, whipping out a new I.D. and phony credit cards with each stay. He knew not to reside too long in one place, but he wasn't concerned. He'd paid good money for over twenty fake dossiers.
"What did the other sharks say?" he asked after he took a healthy swig and set his glass back down for a refill.
"They're willing to extend your credit, but it comes with a higher interest rate," Pete told him.
Van nodded. "And I'm assuming you didn't ask them to help find Christy?"
"After what Anthony Bear threatened us with? I think you know the answer to that," Dan chided.
"We need to figure out another way to find her."
"But if Anthony Bear is forgiving your debt do you even need to find her?" Pete asked.
"Millions. She's worth millions. So yeah, I still need to go to these extremes," Van answered, his tone devoid of emotion.
Both men stood. Dan stared hard at Van. "We'll handle the legalities when it's done, but until then, we're out. It was different when you asked us to check out a few places to try and find her. And we risked our own lives visiting sharks that you owe money to. A drive down to Naples isn't in our job descriptions. We made two trips for you."
"And you did so knowing the risks and that you'd be well compensated," Van interrupted.
"We shouldn't have stepped outside our comfort zones. This is who you need to call." Dan walked toward Van and handed him a piece of paper.
"We're all out of our league here. You may have the financial and legal resources, but let's face it, none of us are street smart. We're in over our heads," Pete said. "You still get a dividend from your dealership every month, so you're not stone cold broke. Yet. Racking up debt with these sharks and not paying..." He paused. "Let's just say I don't need to tell you that you need to plug this leak and do it soon."
"My monthly draws from the dealership aren't even close to what I owe them all," Van snapped.
"It's not helping that you won't stop spending," Dan scolded.
Van looked at the paper he was holding. "Who is this?"
"A guy who can find your daughter, and..." Pete started to say.
"And he's shrewd. Knows how to get things done without getting noticed," Dan finished for him. "He's expensive, so you'll have to dig into your cash pile, or what's left of it."
Five Days Later
"You're sure she's with him? Living in his home?" Van asked incredulously. The man that had come recommended sat in front of him. Van wasn't sure what he’d expected, but it wasn't the guy that showed up at his hotel room. This one looked like the guy next door. A man that went to his nine-to-five job and took his kids to football practice. Van had a hard time reconciling all-American average Joe with someone who could handle the kind of job Van required.
"Yes, I'm sure. His home is too remote so I couldn't follow them to his door without being seen, but I have followed them to the grocery store, the gas station and a few other places. They're together. No doubt."
Van shook his head in disbelief.
"Just because they're together doesn't mean I don't have a plan. I can't get to her because it's obvious that he's protecting her. It's been a week, and she doesn't leave the house alone. I've seen him leave without her, but there's no way I'm going near his house to get her. He's too smart. I can guarantee he has measures built in to protect her when he's not around." He gave Van a confident look. "But we can approach this another way."
"Approach it how?" Van asked. His patience was waning. The sooner he got Christy declared unstable, the sooner he could get on with his life.
"I've talked to the right people. I've discovered some vulnerabilities in Anthony Bear's life. Your daughter is an obvious one, but he's too careful with her. You're worried about his threat to marry her, right?" he asked Van.
"I wasn't, but I am now," Van told him. "They could already be married."
"I highly doubt it. They're not wearing rings, and I have a contact in the county office. No marriage license with either name has come across her desk in the past couple of weeks."
Van nodded. "Okay, so what do you suggest?"
Van listened as the man explained his plan.
"Wouldn't it be easier to put a bullet in his head?" Van asked sarcastically.
"Yes, for a regular target. Not Anthony Bear. He's too well known, and retaliation from his club would be massive." He looked thoughtful then and asked, "Wouldn't it be just as easy to put a bullet in your daughter's head?"
"Yes, for a regular target," Van answered, his tone mocking as he threw the man's words back at him. "My attorneys already checked into that. Too many stipulations on her trust in the event of her death. It would be tied up in probate for years." He let out a sigh.
"This can work, and right now, short of storming the castle and nabbing your daughter, it's the only option we have."
"It's a long shot," Van remarked.
"Your whole plan is a long shot," the man replied sarcastically.
Van looked skeptical.
"From what I could find out, I can almost guarantee this will be a sure thing." The man scrubbed his hand down his face. "Look, give me another week. We give it a try. It doesn't work, we try something else."
"And when she's not with him you can grab her and do what we talked about?" Van's voice sounded hopeful.
"I know people that specialize in that very thing. Consider her a drug addicted whore who won't remember her own name, and even if she did, she wouldn't care. Her entire existence will revolve around her next fix. And Anthony Bear will never find her or be able to trace anything back to you or me." Of course, he couldn't guarantee that Anthony wouldn't go after Van, but what did he care? He'd have done his part and would be gone by then.
"What if he actually marries her before you pull this off?" Van asked.
"If I pull this off and it goes down the way it needs to..." He gave Van an expectant look. "I can promise you she'll be filing for divorce. From what I've gathered, this has the possibility of ruining any potential happily ever after."
Van stood and walked to the large window in his vast hotel suite, his back to the man. He gazed out over Tampa Bay.
When Van didn’t answer right away, the man added, “It’s worth a try at least.”
"Do it," Van ordered without turning around.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Naples, Florida 1978
"And Alexander hasn't seen him?" Christy asked. She was lying in bed with Anthony, tracing circles on his stomach.
"Like I said, I can't be sure he was a tail. I'm usu
ally pretty good at sensing when something is off, but I could be wrong. I mean, I have been distracted," he said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. He pulled away from her then and quickly straddled her.
"Anthony," she looked up at him, her blue eyes serious, "I need some space. Some freedom."
"I know, baby. You can wait a couple more days, can't you?” he asked as he bent low to kiss her neck. “I still need some time to be sure. You've been with me two weeks. A few more days can't hurt."
He was right, and she knew he was only being cautious. It's not like he didn't take her out of the house or let her have the house to herself as long as she abided by his secret room rule. She sighed when she thought about the romantic night they'd spent under the stars two days ago. Anthony convinced her to go camping with him. She wasn't sure about camping at first. She'd never slept outside before. But she wanted to step outside of her comfort zone. Plus, deep down, she wanted to prove to him that she may have had a privileged childhood, but it didn't define her, and if the man she was falling in love with wanted her to experience a night in the wilderness, she would agree to it.
She was so happy she did. After finding a secluded spot and setting up their tent, Anthony took Christy on a hike, taking time to point out the different trees and plants. She was astonished at what he knew concerning which plants could kill you and which ones could heal you. He carried his crossbow as they walked and she was sorry to see him kill a deer which would be their dinner. Later, back at camp, Christy cut vegetables and fruit while Anthony skinned the animal and roasted the meat. Explaining that killing an animal should never be for sport, he packed up the remaining meat in coolers so it wouldn't be wasted.
"I've never eaten deer meat before," she'd told him, her eyes nervous as he removed a piece from the spit and fed it to her.
"It's called venison," he'd explained and nodded at the corn she'd boiled over the fire. She was grateful that her participation was limited to chopping and boiling. He used his knife to cut the kernels off the cob, and after she gathered them in a bowl, he teasingly asked, "Aren't you going to feed me?"