Don't Breathe a Word: Includes a bonus novella (Texas Justice Book 2)

by Christie Craig

  Logan and Rachel exchanged glances, but it was Rachel who spoke. “Carly must’ve found it, and either got caught with it, or tried brokering some kind of freedom.”

  “But not before contacting you and putting it in what she thought of as a safe place.” Logan nodded. He turned back to Charlie on the laptop screen. “Make sure this information gets to the proper authorities. Rachel and I are going to check out Carly’s apartment at the hotel, and then have a look around the casino…see if anything catches our eyes.”

  Charlie nodded, her face grim. “Trapped animals rarely just lie down and roll over. Be careful.”

  Logan cocked up an eyebrow. “An animal analogy, Charlie? Am I rubbing off of you?”

  The pink-haired operative snorted. “As if, cowboy. Backup’s already en route, but you still need to watch your arses.”

  They ended their video call and, after making sure they were sufficiently dressed for an appearance at Sinful Players, drove around the corner to where the casino’s valet stood sentry at the main doors.

  Logan handed the SUV keys to the attendant along with an unmistakable wad of cash.

  “To make sure he puts it in the spot nearest to the side exit,” Logan explained when Rachel flashed him a questioning look.

  Dean Carson had spared no expense when designing his latest hotel and casino. Laid out in an extravagant design, marble-tiled floors covered the main lobby, and in the grand foyer, a two-story fountain trickled into an indoor lagoon. Light from suspended chandeliers bounced off the colored glass artwork that hung from the vaulted ceilings. The effect was a staggering display of colored rainbows throughout the hall.

  At close to four in the morning, the place was going strong, with only a few stragglers looking as if they were about to call it a night. Nearly everyone else looked upbeat and lively, as if they had a few more good hours in them.

  Draping a hand over Rachel’s lower hip, Logan guided her through to the hotel’s grand entryway and to the rotunda of elevators that would take them to the sixteenth floor. The second the elevator doors closed them in, he spun her around and dropped a scorching kiss to her mouth. Getting lost in the feel of her lips on his didn’t take any acting.

  He slid his hand across her hip and over her ass. Rachel moaned against his mouth, slipping her palms beneath the hem of his shirt and quickly finding the path of hair that bisected his eight-pack abs and disappeared beneath the waist of his pants.

  They’d wanted to create a diversion for anyone watching on security cams, but the joke was all on him. He could barely remember his name, much less what they were about to do.

  “Keep traveling south, darlin’, and you’re going to have your hands full.” Logan nipped her bottom lip.

  Rachel chuckled, dipping her fingertips into the band of his suit pants. “Did you mean that to sound so dirty?”

  “You’re killing me here, sweetheart,” Logan groaned against her mouth. As the elevator came to a stop, his arm banded tighter around her waist. “Ready to maul me out in the open?”

  “Let’s go for the Oscar.” Rachel wrapped her arms around his shoulders and locked her legs around his waist. She fixed her mouth to his a second before the elevator doors opened, spilling them into the hall.

  Groping what they couldn’t kiss, they stalked the sixteenth-floor corridor in a flurry of heated kisses and overloud groans. Logan pushed her back against the wall, kicking an empty room service cart for good measure.

  In his eight years in the Marines and his five with Alpha, Logan had never once bypassed security cams by tangling limbs with a sexy redhead-turned-brunette. But he wasn’t complaining. Only problem was that their hallway show was supposed to distract Carson’s goons from realizing the room they were entering wasn’t their own, but it was also distracting Logan.

  Logan palmed Rachel’s ass, kissing her as if he needed the contact to breathe. He spun, gently pinning her to the door of 1605 as he searched his pocket for their access card. “You’re too damn good at this distraction thing.”

  “Thank you.” Slightly out of breath from their kisses, she pulled the credit card from his jacket’s inner pocket and placed it in his hand. “I’m more than a little disturbed that a little piece of plastic is all it takes to get in one of these rooms.”

  “It also takes a little finesse.” He inserted the card in the crack of the door and jimmied it into the locking mechanism. In less than two seconds the door clicked open. Logan dropped her to her feet and took the lead position. “Stay behind me until we’re sure the room’s safe.”

  A typical size by hotel standards, the room was devoid of generic hotel furnishings. Framed, expensive artwork hung on the walls. An overstuffed sofa and armchair created a cozy sitting area in front of the double-wide window, and the king-size bed overflowed with decorative pillows.

  And someone had destroyed it all.

  “Either Carly’s allergic to the hotel cleaning service or someone destroyed this place after their last visit.” Logan double-checked the bathroom, making sure they were alone.

  Rachel picked up a broken picture frame and stared at the image until tears welled in her eyes. Logan came up next to her, sensing the regret tightening her body as he gazed at the two smiling faces in the photo.

  Rachel and Carly.

  After their imprisonment in Honduras, neither of them had had it easy. People nodded as if they understood the challenges even the smallest task took, but they didn’t. Hell, even Logan didn’t understand it all, no matter how he tried.

  But Carlotta had.

  Logan had thanked God every day that Carlotta and Rachel had been able to lean on each other through the rough patches. Helping Carly now was one small way he could thank her for being there for Rachel.

  “I want to stop Carson, but I want to find Carly even more, Logan. I owe it to her.” Rachel returned the picture to its upright position.

  Logan brushed an errant lock of brown hair off her cheek. “This isn’t your fault, darlin’.”

  “No. But I sure as hell didn’t make it any better. I can’t believe Carly would’ve known about Carson’s dealings and stuck around. The last time we spoke, she’d never been so resolved to stay clean and out of trouble.”

  Logan took her hand and squeezed. “Maybe he hid it all from her. We already know the bastard’s resourceful. He could’ve kept her in the dark about his little side businesses and by the time she’d realized, he’d gotten her mixed up in something. It doesn’t mean she went down a bad road willingly.”

  Hope glittered in her eyes, and Logan would do anything to keep it there.

  “Let’s keep looking around. If we’re lucky, we’ll find something that may give us a clue as to where she might be. But we need to hustle before our adoring audience realizes that we didn’t go into our own room.”

  “And if we don’t find anything?”

  “Then we head down to the casino. Maybe we’ll get lucky and run into one of your old roommates, but I’m not making any bets on it. I’m also making sure Charlie has that backup at the ready—to be on the safe side.”

  “I thought everyone’s on assignment. And even if they aren’t, it’ll take too long for them to get here. Who’s Charlie calling in to help?”

  “Nice thing about having a boss that’s as badass as they come is getting to draw on his connections. Stone will hook us up.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rachel wanted to hunt down Dean Carson, grab him by the collar of his thousand-dollar suit, and demand answers and her friend. Instead Logan guided her into the posh, overindulgent casino that drew the affluent Vegas community like a bear to a honey hive.

  Excitement buzzed through the casino floor. Charlie’s choice of undercover outfits fit in well with the high-priced dresses and suits. Even the waitresses and casino attendants were dressed to impress, their “uniforms” probably having cost more than one of Rachel’s old teacher paychecks.

  A busty brunette hostess sashayed up to a blackjack table with a tray o
f drinks, sliding her ample hips in between a pair of businessmen. The older of the two smiled at her and cupped her ass with his hand.

  Rachel’s stomach rolled. “Some of these waitresses must know something.”

  Logan ran his hand in a soothing caress up and down her back. “They might, but they’re also employees of a known criminal. Chances are that even if they do know something, they’ll be too scared to say anything. And if they’re close to him on the hierarchy, they could rat us out to Carson in the hope of getting on the man’s good side. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take. Yet.”

  Rachel hated that he was right. If they drew Carson’s attention, finding Carly would be next to impossible.

  She sank against Logan’s side as they walked deeper into the room. People littered every square inch of the casino, one not distinguishable from the next—except for the security.

  Dressed in dark suits and ear comms, the gorilla-size men strategically positioned themselves every six feet. Neither the men nor the awkward bulges beneath their jackets were exactly subtle.

  “Why does casino security need to be outfitted like they’re ready to step onto a battlefield?” Rachel murmured.

  “Noticed that, did you?” Logan chuckled dryly. “You’re hanging out at Alpha too much. But yeah, they’d set off a metal detector by getting within fifty feet of one. Let’s try not to do anything that puts us in their crosshairs.”

  Logan spun her into his arms, chest to chest, and dropped his gaze to her mouth. On reflex, her tongue flicked out, wetting her bottom lip. “Looking at me like that isn’t going to keep us off their radar,” she said.

  “Darlin’, me not touching you is a surefire way to draw attention, because every male in this room, bulky security included, is going to wonder what the hell’s wrong with me.” He brushed his thumb over her jaw, concern glimmering in his eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m searching for my missing friend who just so happens to have a crime boss boyfriend known for dabbling in every branch of illegal activity that’s out there. How do you think I am?”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about.” She braced her palm on his chest and watched his gray eyes darken. “So if we’re not questioning the employees, what are we going to do? Play a few games of roulette?”

  “Something like that.”

  No one paid them any attention as they worked the room, bypassing the crowds of people sitting on red leather chairs in front of high-end slot machines. Every game appeared to have high stakes.

  Logan’s arm firmed around her waist as they approached a blackjack table. “We’ll have a good view of the room from here. I’ll try my luck with you as my charm while you inconspicuously look for your friends. If you see any of them, or if you lay eyes on Carly, you let me know. Hopefully Stone’s backup will make an appearance soon.”

  Logan entered the next game and Rachel stayed on his arm, casually glancing around in between giving him encouraging kisses on the cheek. Waitresses in butt cheek–revealing minidresses strutted the room, some carrying trays filled with drinks while others appeared to be patron eye candy.

  Rachel scanned every woman who walked by, and with each one, her frustration grew. All these people and not a single one looked familiar—until her gaze traveled over two young coeds trying to cash out at the counter and the blonde standing next to them.

  The last time she’d seen Stella had been in the Las Vegas holding cell, and she had been far from put together. Rachel almost didn’t recognize her. Her makeup was now artfully applied and flawless, her sequined dress molded to her stick-thin figure like a second skin.

  Rachel took another hard look to be certain it was her. The put-together Stella picked that moment to look her way, snagging her gaze. Recognition blazed in Stella’s eyes from across the room.

  “We have a big problem.” Heart thundering in her chest, Rachel sidled close to Logan. “The blonde over there is the head honcho of the brothel and I’m pretty sure she made me.”

  Logan’s gaze was focused on two slowly approaching brutes. “I think we’ve both been made.”

  “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to come with us.” A pair of Carson’s goons stopped behind Logan’s shoulder.

  Logan threw on a grin, playing with his newly acquired tokens. “Sorry, fellas, but I’m not done exhausting my monetary funds. Give me a few seconds to sweeten the pot a little bit and then I’m all yours.”

  “Coming with us wasn’t a request,” the taller of the brutes announced. “The house has rules about counting cards and working against the dealers.”

  The patrons seated around the table gawked eagerly as the tension escalated.

  Logan took a menacing step closer to the first guard. “I was doing no such thing.”

  “Then you won’t mind coming with us and clearing it up with the boss.”

  Logan’s gaze shifted between the two men before he glanced around them. At least four nearby guards looked on alert. “Actually, I do mind. As you can see, I’m entertaining a lady friend.”

  The second guard leered at Rachel, making her skin crawl. “She looks more than capable of entertaining herself.”

  They wanted to separate them.

  The guard closest to Logan stepped forward, putting them nearly nose to nose. He lowered his voice for only their ears. “We can do this one of two ways, buddy. But only one of them ensures that your lady friend remains unscathed. And in case you’re dense, it’s coming with us without a damn argument.”

  Logan’s body stiffened, prepping to go on an offensive that wouldn’t work.

  Rachel squeezed his arm before he did something to make the situation worse. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be perfectly fine here until you get his all cleared up.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.” Logan glared at the two guards.

  “Logan,” Rachel murmured, brushing her lips over his cheek. “We don’t have a choice.”

  “You have your cell. Call Stone—”

  “My fingers are practically dialing already.” She pulled him into a kiss and said louder, for surrounding ears, “I’ll have a special prize for you later. Hurry back, baby.”

  Rachel watched as Logan followed his two new friends through the casino, and rescued her cell phone from her cleavage. She’d barely finished typing headquarters’ number when someone yanked the phone from her hands.

  “If it isn’t the snooty princess someplace else she doesn’t belong.” Stella’s ruby-red lips jerked into a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile as she stomped on Rachel’s phone with a daggerlike heel. “Are you going to tell me that you being here is a coincidence? Again?”

  Rachel lifted her chin and met the other woman’s glare. “No. I’m still looking for my friend, and I think you know exactly where she is.”

  “I don’t make a habit of stalking the boss’s playthings. There’s too damn many of them to keep track of.”

  Rachel couldn’t call the other woman out for lying, because, sadly, she didn’t think Stella was making up Carson’s fondness for women.

  “Since I’m such a sucker for a happy ending, why don’t I take you to the boss and you can ask him about your friend yourself?” Stella’s red-tipped fingers dug into Rachel’s arm like claws.

  “As soon as my boyfriend comes back, we’ll do that.”

  Stella’s smirk poured ice into Rachel’s veins. “Oh, honey. He’s not going to be coming back. The boss has other plans for him, although they’re not as pleasant as what he has in store for you.”

  Rachel stepped back, running into a brick wall. Even if the oversize goon behind her hadn’t had manacles for hands, there’d have been no way Rachel could outrun the gun Stella pulled from her purse.

  * * *

  Logan’s skin itched with the need to bust into action, and Carson’s two goons divesting him of his gun didn’t dampen the desire one bit. He needed to ditch the assholes and get back
to Rachel. Whatever the hell had been tipped into motion wouldn’t end well if he didn’t do something, and soon.

  With one thug in front and one on his rear, Logan let himself be led into the casino’s inner sanctum. Above his head florescent lights flickered ominously, giving everything, including the walls, a sickly ashen color. It was a new building, but the damn place could’ve been the backdrop for a horror movie.

  “Have to tell you guys, I’m not impressed with your tour. I thought it would be more…lively,” Logan quipped dryly.

  “Probably a good thing for you that it’s not.” The goon in front pushed through an exit door.

  Hot, humid Vegas air hit Logan in the face as they stepped into a darkened alley. Oblivious to their presence, a homeless man with his cart piled high with personal treasures trudged toward the main street. And on their right, pissing against the building, another man wobbled unsteadily on his feet.

  “Hey, asshole. This isn’t a fucking public bathroom,” Goon One growled. “Take your limp dick and get the hell out of here.”

  The leather jacket–clad guy ignored the directive, taking his time zipping his pants.

  Carson’s thug pulled out his gun and stepped toward the wall pisser. “Hey, fuckhead. Didn’t you hear me? Get lost.”

  Less than an inch away from contact, the interloper’s arms whipped out, reacting much too fast for someone who’d been slinging back a few drinks. Carson’s goon folded like a pretzel, the stranger’s fist meeting his nose with a sick crunch.

  The thug stumbled into Logan on his way to the ground, giving Logan the chance to divest him of his gun. He pistol-whipped Carson’s remaining goon, not stopping to watch him hit the ground before spinning back around.

  Logan and the wall pisser aimed their guns at each other.

  Fully prepared to do whatever it took to get back to Rachel, Logan tightened his fingers around the butt of the Glock. “You’d be doing us both a favor if you dropped the damn gun, turned around, and walked the hell away.”

  “Not until you do.”