Chapter 2
Ryan woke to pain.
Not the dull ache from before. Sharp, immediate pain that made her gasp. Her head throbbed where it had hit something hard.
But the chair was different. Wooden instead of metal. And her hands were still tied behind her back, but looser. Much looser.
She blinked hard, forcing her vision to clear. The basement looked the same. Same gray walls. Same hanging bulb. Same covered shapes in the corner that she did not want to think about.
But something had changed.
The ropes around her wrists had been cut halfway through. Not enough to break free, but enough to know someone had done it on purpose. Someone had given her a chance.
Ryan twisted her hands, testing. The zip tie bit into her skin, but there was give now. If she pulled hard enough.
Voices erupted from upstairs. Loud. Angry.
A man's voice she did not recognize. "Where is she?"
Then Hayden, still calm. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Do not play games with me." The other voice grew louder. Closer to the basement door. "I know she is here."
Ryan froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Who was up there? Police? Someone else Hayden had hurt?
A crash. Glass breaking. Someone slammed into a wall hard enough to shake the ceiling above her.
"Last chance, Doctor. Where. Is. She."
The voice was cold. Controlled. The kind of voice that did not make threats. It made promises.
"Downstairs." Hayden's voice had lost its calm. Fear crept in at the edges. "She is downstairs, but you cannot..."
Footsteps pounded toward the basement door. Fast. Heavy.
Then a gunshot.
The sound exploded through the space, so loud Ryan's ears rang. She flinched hard, the chair scraping against concrete.
"No." She screamed without thinking. "No, please."
The basement door burst open. Light flooded down the stairs, blinding after the dim bulb. A figure appeared at the top. Tall, broad shoulders, moving with purpose.
Not Hayden.
The man descended the stairs three at a time. Ryan could see him better now. Expensive suit, dark hair, a gun in one hand. His face was hard, angular, with dark eyes that scanned the basement like a predator hunting.
Those eyes landed on her.
"Cristo." He swore under his breath and crossed the space between them in seconds.
Ryan pressed back against the chair, even though there was nowhere to go. "Who are you?"
He did not answer. He crouched behind her, and she felt the pressure on her wrists release. He had cut through the zip tie with a knife that appeared from nowhere.
"Can you stand?" His voice was rough. Accented. Spanish, maybe.
"I... I do not know."
He moved around front, cut the ties on her ankles just as quickly. His hands were steady. Professional. This was not the first time he had done this.
"We need to move. Now." He grabbed her arm and started pulling her up.
Ryan's legs almost gave out. She had been sitting too long. Blood rushed back into her feet, bringing pins and needles that made her gasp.
"I cannot..."
"You can." He shifted his grip, one arm around her waist, supporting most of her weight. "Walk. Just walk."
Another explosion from upstairs. Louder this time. The whole building shook.
"What was that?" Ryan's voice came out high. Panicked.
"Gas line." He was already moving her toward the stairs, half carrying her. "I gave us three minutes. Maybe four."
"You blew up the house?"
"Would you prefer to stay?"
Ryan's legs were working better now. She managed the first few stairs on her own, then stumbled. He caught her easily, like she weighed nothing.
They burst through the basement door into chaos. The kitchen was destroyed. Cabinets torn open, glass everywhere, a fire spreading fast along one wall. Smoke already filled the upper rooms.
Hayden was gone.
"Where is he?" Ryan coughed through the smoke. "Where is Hayden?"
They made it outside just as windows started exploding. Heat rolled over them in waves. Ryan's legs finally gave out completely and she went down hard on the grass, gasping for air that did not taste like smoke.
The man stood over her, gun still in hand, watching the house burn. The flames reflected in his dark eyes.
"Who are you?" Ryan managed between coughs.
He looked down at her. For the first time, something that might have been amusement crossed his face.
"Mateo Reyes." He said it like she should know the name. "And you are Ryan Cross. Journalist. Daughter of Detective James Cross. Currently in debt to me for ten million dollars."
Ryan's stomach dropped. The loan. The hospital bills. The money she had borrowed to save her mother.
"You." Her voice went flat. "You are the one who..."
"Yes" I'm the one I can't just let you die without paying me back.
"I am not an investment. I am a person."
"You are ." He reached down, grabbed her arm again, and pulled her to her feet. "And right now, you are a person who almost died in that basement. You are welcome, by the way."
Ryan jerked her arm free. Immediately regretted it when her legs wavered. She locked her knees, refusing to fall in front of him.
"I did not ask you to save me."
"No. You asked me for ten million dollars." Mateo's voice hardened. "Then you stopped returning my calls. Stopped paying. Did you think I would not notice?"
"My mother died." The words came out sharp. "I was busy."
"I heard." His expression did not change. No sympathy. No warmth. "Bad business, that. The hospital should have treated her better."
Something in his tone made Ryan's eyes narrow. "What do you know about that?"
"Enough." He pulled out his phone, typed something one handed. "Car is two minutes out. We are leaving."
"I am not going anywhere with you."
"Yes, you are." He stepped closer. Close enough that Ryan had to tilt her head back to keep eye contact. Because you have nowhere else to go. And because..." His voice dropped lower. "You still owe me ten million dollars, Ms. Cross. Time is running out."
Ryan's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Is that a threat?"
"It is a fact." A black SUV pulled up the driveway, stopping just short of them. "Get in the car."
"No."
Mateo sighed. Looked at her like she was a child throwing a tantrum. Then, without warning, he bent down and lifted her over his shoulder.
"Put me down." Ryan's fists pounded against his back. "Put me down right now or I swear..."
"You will what?" He walked to the SUV, opened the door, and dropped her in the back seat like luggage. "File a complaint? Go to the police?" He leaned in, one hand on the roof, the other on the doorframe, blocking her exit. "The police think you are missing. The hospital thinks you are dead. Dr. Hayden thinks you belong to him. Right now, I am the only thing standing between you and a grave."
Ryan stared at him. At the hard lines of his face, the cold certainty in his eyes.
"I do not trust you."
"Smart." He straightened up. "But you do not have a choice."
The door slammed shut. Ryan tried the handle. Locked. Of course it was locked.
Mateo slid into the front passenger seat. The driver, a man with a scar across his cheek, pulled away before Ryan could think about jumping out.
"Where are you taking me?" Ryan's voice came out steadier than she felt.
"Somewhere safe." Mateo did not turn around.
"That is not an answer."
"It is the only answer you are getting." He pulled out his phone again and scrolled through something. "You will stay there until we figure out our next move."
"Our next move?" Ryan leaned forward. "There is no our. You are not part of this."
"I am now." Mateo finally turned to look at her over his seat. "Dr. Hayden tried to kill someone who owes me money. That makes it my business."
"So this is about the loan."
"Everything is about the loan." His eyes were dark. Unreadable. "You borrowed money from me. That creates a bond, Ms. Cross. Until you pay me back,you're not permitted to die and no one is permitted to hurt you."
The words sent ice down Ryan's spine. "I do not belong to anyone."
"Tell yourself that if it helps you sleep." He turned back around. "But the truth does not care what you believe."
They drove in silence after that. The city gave way to suburbs, then to estates with long driveways and gates. The SUV turned into one. Black iron, security cameras visible on the posts.
The gates opened automatically.
Ryan's stomach twisted. "What is this place?"
"Hell." Mateo said it simply.
"You are keeping me prisoner."
"I am keeping you alive." The car stopped in front of massive double doors. "There is a difference."
The driver got out first, opened Mateo's door, then Ryan's. She did not move.
Ryan climbed out on her own, legs still shaky but working. The fresh air helped clear her head. She could think again. Plan.
Mateo watched her with something like amusement. "You are thinking about running."
"No."
"Liar." He started toward the doors. "Come on. I will show you to your room."
"I am not staying."
He stopped. Turned back. The amusement was gone now.
"Yes. You are." He walked back to her, each step deliberate. "Because if you leave, Dr. Hayden will find you within twenty four hours. And next time, I will not be there to pull you out of his basement."
"Why do you even care?" Ryan's voice rose.
"You asked me for a loan to save your mother. I gave it to you. It's business.
Ryan held his gaze. Refused to back down even though every instinct screamed at her to step away.
Mateo's hand shot out and gripped her wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make his point. His thumb pressed against her pulse, feeling it race.
"You are alive." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "You are alive, and I intend to keep you that way. At least until you pay me back."
He released her wrist. Turned and walked toward the house without looking back
"Coming, Ms. Cross? Or would you prefer to stand out here and wait for Dr. Hayden to find you?"
Ryan looked back at the gates And looked at the front before she could take another step slipped and passed out….