by Livia Grant
“Oh no, you don’t. You need to stay home and look after the girls.”
“Stopping Davenport in his tracks in California is the best way to keep them safe and you know it. I want to be there—fuck that; I deserve to be there when you confront him. And don’t tell me that’s not your plan. The second Dylan started talking about how he’s abusing other women, I knew you were going to accelerate the plan and get him neutralized. I need to be there when it happens.” When Lukus was quiet, he added on a soft, “Please.”
“Fuck. All right. Having you along isn’t a bad idea anyway. I won’t know how messed up things are until I get there. Just hurry. There’s a flight in ninety minutes that I’m gonna try to be on. I’m checking a bag because there’s no way I’m going without my piece, and I can’t take a weapon in my carry-on. Move your ass. Meet me at the United terminal.”
“Will do.”
Markus was gonna hate lying to Brianna, but there was no way he was telling her he was getting on a plane to confront Jake. She would worry too much, and he didn’t want that. If all went well, he’d be home in a couple of days, and he’d tell her then.
As he shook her gently, her eyes fluttered open. His heart ached with love at the sight of her sexy smile.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry to wake you, but I got a call. I need to fly out for an emergency case tonight. I didn’t want to just leave you a note.”
He hated her look of disappointment. He hated the crush of guilt his lie brought even more. They’d pledged to always tell the truth, and he was breaking that pledge. Markus could tell himself it was for her own good, but it still felt wrong. Just not wrong enough to take it back.
“Oh, honey. I don’t want you to go. Are you sure someone else can’t take the case?” she asked.
“I’m sure. You and Tiff have such busy plans for the next few days, between the prom appointments and the party tomorrow night, that you won’t even miss me. I already have the limo set to pick you both up here at seven tomorrow night. With any luck, I’ll be home in a day or two.”
Brianna was pouting. It was adorable. “But who’s going to take care of me after the party if you aren’t home yet?”
Markus had forgotten about that. “Well, remember. You can look, but no touching tomorrow night. If I’m not back when you get home, I want you to call me. I’ll take care of you over the phone.”
“Phone sex? Really?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“I don’t like it, but okay.” She was already closing her eyes again.
Markus stayed long enough to see her drift off before heading to his closet to throw on clothes and pack a small bag. He stopped to place a quick kiss on her forehead before turning off the bedside lamp and heading to the airport.
Jake Davenport better have fun tonight, because if I get my way, he’ll be behind bars by this time tomorrow.
Chapter Four
Lukus
“Hey man, time to wake up. We’re descending. I want to be the first one off this damn plane.”
Lukus hadn’t slept a wink. He got to the airport last night only to find out that the flight that would get them to California around midnight was overbooked, and no amount of money could buy them even one seat.
He and Markus had taken off from Chicago at just after six this morning, having spent the night sitting up in uncomfortable chairs at the gate, once the last airport bar had closed. They were touching down at eight thirty San Francisco time.
It’d been a long night of worry. Lukus had no clue what he was walking into this morning. He hadn’t been able to get hold of Dylan to pass on their flight information; not on his cell and not even by calling the hotel directly. At first he’d been furious, thinking Dylan had disobeyed orders. As the night wore on, his anger morphed into fear.
Derek is gonna kick my ass if his kid brother gets hurt on my watch, and I don’t blame him. I should have had my ass on a plane days ago.
Lukus headed to the lavatory to splash water on his face. When he got back to his seat, Markus looked ready to sprint from the airplane.
Lukus laid out their contingency plans. “I rented us a car. First thing we need to do is find Dylan. We’ll see if he’s answering his phone, but either way, we’ll head to his hotel. It’s about thirty minutes south, on the way to Palo Alto.”
Markus injected, “I sent an email last night to a district attorney friend of mine from law school. He’s practicing up in Napa County, so he won’t be direct help, but he has more contacts out here than either of us. I’ll check my mail when we land. I’m hoping he can help us make connections when it’s time to involve the police. I want to do things by the book so the prick can’t weasel out of any charges.”
“That’s good. The key, though, is gonna be getting some of these women to press charges. I’m pissed Dylan already made contact with some of them, but in the end, it may work in our favor if he can convince them to go to the police. Between Brianna’s charges and theirs, we should have plenty of evidence to get that prick behind bars.”
“Brianna will never press charges,” Markus said quietly.
Lukus saw red. “That’s total bullshit. I get you may not want her to testify in court, but if you won’t press charges, how the hell am I going to convince other women to come forward?”
Markus looked annoyed. “You don’t understand. It has nothing to do with whether we want to press charges or not. There’s a statute of limitations, and in Illinois rape victims only have three years to report the crime. Sure, they have seven years to bring the prick up on trial, but since Bri missed the three-year limit to report him, it’s too late now.”
“But what about last month? We have it taped. We could...” Lukus shut up at the murderous look on his best friend’s face.
Markus lowered his voice. “Forget the fact I’d never allow the tape of my wife in a hotel room with that asshole brought into court as exhibit A. The recording would only help get him acquitted. She drove herself there. Even after he untied her, she didn’t scream or try to get away from him. You can ask a hundred people and they’ll all say he didn’t rape her that day.”
“Fine. Sorry I brought it up,” Lukus muttered.
The men shared a knowing look at the memories of that momentous weekend.
A minute later, the wheels of the plane touched down and both men turned on their phones.
Markus found his email first. “My Napa County DA friend sent me the names of not only the district attorney for Santa Clara County, but the chief of police as well. What do you have?”
Lukus was relieved to see a voicemail message from Dylan, left while they were in the air. His relief was short lived when he finds the message only consisted of a moaning man in the background. The call lasted just twenty seconds and then cut off. A feeling of dread washed over him.
That kid had better be safe in the hotel, or Jake Davenport had better start praying.
It took the men an hour to claim Lukus’s checked bag, housing his pistol and ammo, and to rent their car. While it pissed him off to sit and wait at the luggage carousel, Lukus would never have taken on this job without being armed. He also had gotten the upgrade to a Mustang, hoping for a car with some muscle.
As they drove, Markus tried unsuccessfully to reach Dylan.
Arriving at the roadside hotel, Lukus took a few minutes driving through the entire parking lot. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
They parked and headed into the lobby, his Glock safely concealed as they approached the front desk. Lukus was pleased to see a young woman working. He needed into Dylan’s room, and assumed it would be easier charming a key out of the smiling woman than the portly man helping another guest.
“Good morning, sir. Are you checking in?” she asked.
“Actually, we’re here to meet an employee of mine. I think he had a late night, and isn’t answering his phone. I’m hoping to get a key to his room.”
What he was asking for was clearly a violation of any reputable hotel’s pol
icies. They didn’t just give keys to anyone who asked. Lukus flashed a broad smile. He could tell she wanted to help him. It wasn’t going to be that easy.
“What’s your employee’s name? I can ring the room for you, but I’m afraid I can’t give you a key to his room.”
Lukus poured on the charm. “Oh, I understand. We’re in security, so I appreciate that. His name is Dylan Parker. Let me make it easier for you.” Lukus whipped out his wallet. “Here’s my ID and credit card. Please, compare it with the credit card on the room and you’ll see they match. Perhaps that will put your mind at ease since, technically, it’s my room as I’m paying for it.”
She was still hesitant, but took the credit card from him long enough to look up Dylan’s payment method. Her smile broadened with relief when she saw it matched.
“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell. I do see you are paying for the room, so I think I can make you a key. Please wait here.”
After she stepped away, Markus remarked, “That was lucky.”
“Yeah. He hasn’t worked for me long enough to get his own card yet.”
She was back with the key. Lukus rewarded her with a flirtatious smile, just in case they needed more info from her later.
When they were at Dylan’s door, Lukus removed his weapon, listening intently for any noise from the other side. Markus was about to knock when Lukus stopped him.
“Wait. I want the element of surprise.”
“I’d be prepared to get an eyeful if he has some chick in there,” Markus said.
“Trust me. If that’s why he hasn’t been answering his phone, me seeing him with his dick out is the last of his worries.”
“Got it.”
Lukus slid the keycard in and out quietly, opening the door as softly as possible. The room was dark, the light-canceling drapes pulled shut. The bathroom came first; Lukus flipped on the light to ensure it was empty. He put Markus behind him as he rounded the corner of the separator wall, his gun still drawn. In the dimness of the room, he was relieved to see a lump in the middle of the king-sized bed. Looked like the kid was here the whole time.
As he got closer he confirmed it was Dylan. With dread, he noted the unnatural position of his body. After a final glance of the room to ensure they were alone, Lukus rushed the last few feet to the bedside table, flipping on the light.
The sight of Dylan’s swollen face kicked him in the gut. He hesitated, feeling for a pulse, not wanting to find Derek’s brother dead on his watch. The pain-filled groan from the motionless body moved Lukus into action.
“Go wet some towels in cold water,” he said.
“Right.” Markus rushed to the bathroom.
Lukus leaned down to talk calmly to Dylan. “Hey, man. Your backup is here. We’re gonna help you now. This is gonna hurt like hell, but I need to check you out.”
A low moan from the bloodied body on the bed assured Lukus he’d been heard. He began to methodically take stock of Dylan’s condition, noting he was still dressed in street clothes, although his T-shirt was ripped almost completely from his body. He was lying crossways in the bed, one arm and leg trapped awkwardly under his crumpled body.
Lukus examined the room again, looking for signs of a struggle. Finding none, he decided that whoever beat the shit out of Dylan did it somewhere else before dumping him back here. There was no way the kid was able to get back on his own steam, meaning they had to carry him into the hotel.
Markus was back, handing him the wet hand towels.
Lukus talked to Dylan again. “Do you think they broke any bones? I want to roll you over so I can get a better look at what we’re dealing with here.” He could barely make out Dylan’s response.
“Gonna kill that fucker.”
“You and me both. But first we need to get you pieced back together. Can I roll you?”
“Yeah. It’s gonna hurt like a sonofabitch.” Dylan’s face was puffed and swollen, making his speech slurred.
Markus and Lukus worked together, rolling him as gently as possible. When they had him on his back, Lukus knew it was time to call an ambulance. The shirt was ripped from his body, displaying severe bruising across much of his muscular chest.
Markus said what Lukus was thinking. “They used him for a damn punching bag.”
“Call an ambulance. Then call that local chief of police contact. I want him here pronto. I don’t want some rookie in a black and white showing up first.”
“No hospital.”
Lukus almost missed Dylan’s protest. “Yes, hospital. I fucked up, having you out here alone. I’m not gonna fuck up getting you medical attention too.”
Lukus whipped out his phone, using it to take photos of Dylan for evidence later. Before Markus could get 911 on the phone, Dylan stopped him.
“Wait. Check my phone. He left you guys a message there.”
Lukus rummaged through the mussed sheets until he found an iPhone he assumed was Dylan’s. There was no password set and the phone opened to the video app. A masked face was frozen on the screen. Markus moved close enough to watch as Lukus pushed play.
The video started with a lot of shuffling sounds, until the person behind the camera pulled back enough to open up to the scene of an already beaten Dylan hanging limp between two burly, masked men. Dylan was six foot and athletic. The two men propping him up look to be a few inches taller, each with at least seventy-five to one-hundred pounds on him.
Lukus was furious. “He didn’t have a chance against those giants.”
Dylan piped in from below, sputtering through coughing, “They were pros. They do dirty work for the criminal underbelly.”
“What makes you say that?” Lukus was mildly surprised that even in his precarious state, Dylan was trying to provide helpful details for the investigation. He hit pause on the video to get more info.
“They were careful—wore gloves and masks—called each other by numbers instead of names.” He had to stop to cough. Lukus could see the pain it caused. He felt like a shit for getting Derek’s brother in trouble like this on his first assignment. He pushed the guilt down. He didn’t have time for that crap now.
“Was Davenport there?”
“No. That’s another reason why I know they’re pros.” Dylan’s answers came in short spurts as he tried to work through the pain. “The goons were careful—referred to him as ‘the boss.’ Shit like, ‘the boss wants you to stop poking around and go home.’”
Lukus restarted the video. The thug on the left did the talking. “This message is for Markus Lambert and Lukus Mitchell.” Lukus glanced at his best friend in time to catch the look of pure hatred as he realized Jake had figured out who was behind the tail. “It seems you’ve sent this kid here to do a man’s job. As you can see, he’s failed. Our boss asked us to send you this very clear message to let you know you lost again. He suggests you be a good loser and go home to lick your wounds before someone really gets hurt.”
The message ended abruptly. It was cryptic, but there was no doubt the message came directly from Jake Davenport. Lukus was livid, but one look at his best friend told him Markus was about to lose his shit.
Lukus tried to calm him. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna get the prick, and when we do, he’ll regret ever meeting Brianna. Now, hold it together and get that chief of police over here. We need to document this. We have hundreds of photos from Dylan’s tail, along with this video. I’m gonna email it to Cameron now, so he can see what he can dig up.”
Dylan coughed again before sputtering, “They took my camera.” He grimaced in pain as he tried a lopsided smile. “The assholes were so stupid, they didn’t even notice I’d taken the memory card out. It’s in my right pocket.”
Lukus located the memory stick holding evidence and secured it. “Great work, kid. Call that ambulance, Markus.”
Dylan protested. “No. I just need a hot shower and a few hours and I’ll be ready to go again.”
“I admire your spirit, but you need to be checked out. You could have internal bleeding
.”
“Bullshit. I need to check on Hannah.”
“Who’s Hannah?” Lukus knew that if she was an innocent victim of Jake’s, they had a responsibility to get her safely away from him. She could also turn into a valuable witness when they prosecuted the prick.
“She’s one of the scared women he’s pursuing hot and heavy. I don’t know what he has over her, but even though she acts afraid, she’s refused to go to the police with me.”
Markus was on the phone with the chief of police. The police were going to want to confiscate the evidence when they got there. “Where’s your laptop?” he asked Dylan. “I need to see the evidence you’ve collected. You feel up to running through it with me before the ambulance gets here?”
They spent the next ten minutes downloading and reviewing the hundreds of photos Dylan had taken over the last week. He quickly uploaded them to Dropbox for Cameron to pick up later.
Lukus was surprised at the investigative quality of the photos. They may not have had proof of anything illegal, yet. What they did have was a better picture of just how depraved Jake was. Many pictures documented crying women, women dressed as sex workers, and more than a few sporting proof of physical abuse in the form of bruises and cuts.
By the time the chief arrived with his uniformed officers, Lukus was ready to get out of there and go hunting. Instead, he stayed to lay things out from the beginning for the chief so he knew exactly what kind of an asshole they were dealing with. Jake Davenport may have managed to stay under the radar up until now, but he was about to feel them breathing down his neck as they brought the local law enforcement into the mix. The chief promised to launch a full-scale investigation and would pay Jake a visit himself.
The paramedics did an initial check on Dylan and, while Lukus was relieved they didn’t think there was any internal bleeding, they insisted on taking him to the hospital for tests. Lukus promised to keep him informed, but only after Lukus promised to check on Hannah did Dylan calm down and go willingly.
Lukus and Markus spent the next two hours retracing many of Dylan’s steps, experiencing firsthand the key locations of the investigation. As promised, Lukus went to the florist shop where, according to Dylan, Hannah worked during the day. She hadn’t come in for her scheduled shift and her coworkers were surprised since she always called if she was running late. More troubling was when they confirmed that she had been acting like something had been bothering her for the last few weeks, but she hadn’t shared any details with them.
