Page 96 of Consuming Logan

Too late did Ava see the hand headed her way. Thick fingers grabbed a handful of her hair, and then he yanked hard, throwing her off-balance. Her blouse was ripped opened, the fabric snatched off her arms.

With his eyes, he ogled her breasts. “Nice,” he crooned, making a crude gesture with his tongue. “No hiding now, Ava.”

A series of knocks sounded against the side door, heavy with impatience. Kylie bounded from the chair.

“That must be the buyer. Let the bidding began,” she cheered, her voice filled with delight as she winked at Monique.

Monique sat rigid in terror, her lips trembling with a silent cry.

Buyer? Ava shot a worried glance at the young woman she’d grown to love. Tears, thick and flowing, covered Monique’s cheeks. She’d heard Kylie’s comment.

Ava turned her attention to Ash.

“A bid for what?” she demanded, but the buzzing in her head already knew the answer. It wasn’t an object up for bid. Monique. Somehow, Ash planned to sell Monique?

Kylie pulled the suite door wide. Ava recognized the man. Her eyes widened in shock. Her pulse skyrocketed as her body began to tremble in real terror. Randall Lester, the SCMC executive who’d sexually harassed her and later physically attacked her stood in the doorway sporting a dark blue suit minus the tie. What did he have to do with her and Monique’s kidnapping?

He looked at Ava and frowned. He wore an expression to match hers. Shock.

“Ava?” he questioned. He stalked towards Ash. “What is she doing here,” Randall Lester rasped.

Unaware of Ava’s history with Randall, Ash missed the anger lacing Randall’s tone.

Back when she worked at SCMC, this man had been her tormentor. As the Director of Operations, he’d utilized his vast influence to flatline her navy commissioning packet and tank Logan’s research funding. If Randall had business ties to Ash, he was more dangerous than she ever believed.

“Ava’s not your concern.” He pointed to Monique. “There’s the merchandise. Check her out if you’d like,” Ash said wiggling his brows.

A sob escaped Monique, ripe with desperation and fear.

A shadow fell across the room, and they all turned toward the doorway for a second time.

A man with a white-silvery mane combed back from his forehead and sun-weathered skin stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Ava felt as if she’d been sucked into a nineteen eighty’s Miami Vice episode. Who was this guy?

Randall glared between Ash and the television cartel boss. “Victor, who invited you here?” Randall bellowed.

With a tilt of his head, Ash started to laugh. “You didn’t think I was stupid enough to trust the second offer, did you? Once I have Logan Masters delivered here, the fun begins.”

Ava stilled. Logan. So, Ash was using her and Monique to lure Logan. Ash may believe he had broken Logan, but he was in for the fight of his life. Logan didn’t tolerate being backed into a corner. Taking her had been a fatal mistake.

Randall pulled out his phone. “So, you’re the one who attacked Logan?”

A twisted smile spread across Ash’s face. “Ended his career.”

“Never,” Ava hissed. “You will never beat Logan.”

Ash raised his hand to hit her. Ava shrank back from the calculating glee that sparked in his eye. But then Randall’s next statement drew his fire.

“Hey, psycho,” Randall called out. “You sure we can’t handle this transaction right now.” He shrugged as if bored with Ash’s aggression. “The room’s a little crowded.”

A few months ago, Randall had been on Ava’s list of suspects for Logan’s injury. The look of genuine fear for Ava etched on his face told her she’d been wrong. In fact, she now realized he had diverted her captor’s attention. Pivoting to look at the man she’d known as Ash Wilherm, she shook her head at her poor judgment. Ash or Dusty, or whatever he wanted to call himself, hated Logan. He thought to exact his punishment on her and her unborn babies. Not in this lifetime.

Ash gave Randall a sinister look, fury blazing from narrowed slits. He swung the gun from Ava to Randall. “Don’t ever insult me.”

Ava could see Ash took supreme satisfaction in giving orders.

“I need to call the boss,” Randall said through gritted teeth.

Ash aimed the gun at Randall. “Make the call.”