APPEAL: Esquire Black Duet #2

by Faiman, Hayley

  A single tear slides down my cheek at the thought.

  I love Lucas Black so much, and he’ll never know.

  Chapter Fifteen

  LUCAS

  “Sir, your new client will be here at six,” Peg says, standing at my doorway.

  I can tell she’s tired. It’s always right before a holiday weekend that we’re completely slammed. Everybody wants all of their shit filed before courts close, even if it’s only for a day or two. I’ll be more than ready for the weekend with Brooklyn’s parents in Arizona by the time Friday gets here.

  “Go home, Peg. I’ll be here. I’ll leave my door open for them. There’s no reason for you to stay any later than you need to,” I state, giving her a smile.

  She grins back at me and nods. “Thank you, Lucas.”

  “Did you pick up that gift for me?” I ask.

  I’m sure Brooklyn will throw a tantrum that I’ve bought her something else, but she’ll get over it. I’ve never had anyone to spoil before, nor have I wanted to do that.

  With her, it’s different.

  She outwardly hates me buying her things, but I see the gleam in her eye when I do. She secretly loves it.

  “Mr. Black?” a woman’s voice asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  Lifting my gaze, I’m not surprised to find a pretty brunette standing at my office door. She looks kind, her eyes soft as she watches me from across the room.

  “Come on in, Mrs. Sanchez,” I invite, giving her a warm smile.

  We talk about her case for about an hour. She’s a nice woman who has a philandering husband. I feel sorry for her.

  She seems like a great lady. She doesn’t give me any sexual vibes, so I’m thankful for that, since I’m completely off the market—probably forever.

  Given that it’s dark when the meeting is finished, I lock up my office and walk Mrs. Sanchez to her car. She thanks me, giving me a polite wave as she drives away.

  I haven’t heard from Brooklyn all day, which is odd, so I reach into my pocket for my phone and dial her cell. She doesn’t pick up, I immediately call her again.

  Still no answer.

  I know that I won’t be able to go home and just wait for her. Without much of a thought, I turn toward her office, needing to see if she’s still there or if she’s gone for the evening.

  Glancing at the clock, I frown. She should be home. It’s late, much later than she should be at her office, especially with everything that’s been going on with her.

  It doesn’t take me long to arrive at her building. The first thing I do is drive into her parking garage and look for her car.

  Seeing her silver Mercedes parked, I pull in next to it and get out of my car, calling her phone again. My heart starts to race in my chest as I jog toward her main office doors.

  There is no reason she shouldn’t be answering her phone. She’s not supposed to be meeting with clients and her office is closed for the evening.

  Reaching for the front door, I tug on it and it’s locked, everything looks dark and closed inside. I’m unable to shake this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something is not right, not at all. Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, I dial Detective Anderson’s number.

  “Anderson,” he grunts.

  “Sorry to bother you, Detective, but I can’t find Brooklyn. Her car is here at her office, but she’s not answering my calls. The place looks locked up and dark, something is wrong,” I state.

  “I’m sending units now,” he barks.

  That’s when that nagging feeling ramps up to pure dread. This isn’t just a coincidence. This is something different. There is something terribly fucking wrong.

  “What do you know?” I demand.

  He sighs. I can hear things being shuffled around. It sounds like he’s moving, gathering his things, and hopefully coming my way.

  “Dunning was released two days ago, out on bail,” he admits.

  My stomach completely drops at his words, and I stumble back a few steps. Turning toward the side of her building, I hurry to the back.

  I hang up the phone, not wishing to talk to that fucking prick for another goddamn minute.

  They released Dunning and he didn’t have the common fucking courtesy to call and tell me or Brooklyn?

  Fuck him.

  My fingers reach for the handle of the back-door entrance, I tug hard, but it’s locked. Looking down, I decide the only thing I can do is try to break my way inside. I don’t have time to wait for the fucking police.

  All these people can go to hell.

  If something happens to my woman, I swear to fucking Christ, I will come down on them legally like a shit-storm they couldn’t even imagine.

  Nobody will be out of my reach, not until they’re all sharing a cell and having their asses raped fucking daily.

  Looking around for a way to get inside, I notice that this building is old as fuck, and odds are the locks are shitty as fuck, too. The back door is wooden, not yet having been replaced with metal, thank fuck.

  Quickly, I jog back to my car, opening the trunk, I find a crowbar.

  It doesn’t take me long to return to the door. I use all of my strength to beat the fucking wood into pieces. I need to make a hole big enough for my hand so that I can unlock it from the inside. I’m sure whoever is inside, if anyone is inside, has heard me. I honestly don’t give much of a fuck.

  A few moments later, I’m sweating, but there’s finally a hole. Slipping my hand through the splintered opening, I unlock the door, and twist the knob.

  Keeping the crowbar in my hand, I make my way toward Brooklyn’s area of the building. Luckily, she’s far removed from the back, so there is less chance of someone hearing me—hopefully.

  I freeze when I hear someone speak, recognizing the voice as Meredith Dunning.

  “I want to be taken care of forever,” she whines. “I can be that for some rich old fuck. I can be his little pet.”

  Her words confuse me. I have no clue what she’s fucking talking about. I hope that Brooklyn is okay, though. I don’t hear her voice at all. I don’t wait to hear her either.

  Quietly, I try to sneak around, being unheard and unseen. I need to get a visual on Brooklyn. I need to know that she’s okay.

  A stranger’s accented voice speaks next, “You want that, Meredith? Everything I described for Brooklyn, that’s what you want for yourself? I thought this was all to make her pay?” he asks.

  His words cause the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I wonder just what in the fuck he described for Brooklyn.

  “Yes, I want her to pay for what she did, taking money from me like that. Giang, I have no way to pay for anything, and I refuse to be in a whorehouse like some commoner,” she shouts as she stomps her foot like the small fucking child she is.

  “God, you’re a fucking idiot,” Curtis grumbles as I move quietly, hugging the wall.

  Relief floods my body when I can see the back of Brooklyn. She’s standing, which is a good sign. Her dark hair is pulled into a haphazard, messy ponytail, something she does when she’s really concentrating on work.

  They blindsided her.

  The Dunnings are fucking done.

  Letting out a low growl, I grip the crowbar tighter in my grasp. I hear sirens in the distance, and I breathe out a sigh, knowing that help is almost here. However, I’m not about to just let these fuckers possibly hurt Brooklyn.

  I need her in my arms.

  I need to feel her chest rise and fall against my body, to ensure that she’s breathing, and alive. My next move probably isn’t my smartest, but I take it anyway.

  Boldly, I walk up to the foursome. I leave the crowbar at my side, dangling loosely in my grasp.

  Shoving Curtis to the side quickly, I wrap my arm around Brooklyn’s stomach, tugging her backward against my chest.

  “You’re a fucking dead man,” Curtis chuckles.

  The stranger they were calling Giang grins and holds up a gun. I tilt my head to the side with a
smirk, his fucking gun doesn’t scare me.

  I’m not about to let Brooklyn get in the crossfire though, so I shove her behind me and to the side. She lets out a cry as I’m fairly certain she crashes to the ground. I’d rather her be a little hurt than taken from me, or worse.

  “Bring it on, you goddamn pussy,” I growl.

  BROOKLYN

  There’s a presence at my back. I feel it, and I know without a doubt that Lucas is here. If my body wasn’t running on pure adrenaline mixed with fear, then I would sag a little in relief. However, just because Lucas is here doesn’t mean that I’m safe.

  Giang has a gun, and I doubt that he’s afraid to use it.

  Lucas’ arm wraps around my waist, his hand presses against my stomach, and I sigh softly when he pulls me against his chest. Curtis laughs and calls Lucas a dead man at the same time Giang points his gun right at us.

  I let out a cry when I’m suddenly thrown behind him and to the side. I land on my hip against the hard floor. I’m sure I’ll have bruising tomorrow, but right now I don’t care.

  “Bring it on, you goddamn pussy,” Lucas growls.

  I want to scream, but I bite the inside of my cheek instead. Everybody is focused on Lucas, which means they aren’t even paying attention to me.

  Deciding to take my chance when I can, I slowly start to crawl away from the group. I need to get to a phone and safety. I need to call the police, to save Lucas, and get these assholes in prison.

  I hear Giang’s gunfire. I suppress a scream, refusing to look behind me as I move faster toward the back of the office in the direction of where Lucas came from.

  There is nothing but closed, locked, doors of offices and hallways. All I need is to get inside of one, then I can get to a phone. There’s a bunch of loud shouting, and then everything stops.

  I pinch my eyes closed tighter, afraid of what this quiet means.

  Then silence is broken, there is more shouting, except this time I don’t recognize any voices at all. I place my hands on my ears, not wishing to hear anything else.

  My body starts to tremble then I suddenly feel myself being lifted slightly before I’m shifted around on the floor.

  Turning my head, I inhale Lucas’ scent that surrounds me. Moving my hands from my ears, I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, and then I shove my face in his neck as I finally allow myself to cry.

  “You’re okay, kitten,” he murmurs as he starts to stroke my hair and back.

  My body trembles in his embrace as I start to jerk with sobs that overcome me. “I-I-I thought I would never see you again,” I whimper against him.

  He holds me a little tighter but doesn’t speak. We sit together, me in his lap, his hands rubbing my back in silence.

  “Mr. Black. Miss Myers. May we talk with you?” a voice interrupts.

  I dry my eyes, knowing that my face is probably red, splotchy, and a hot damn mess. Slowly I lift my face from Lucas’ body and turn my neck, surprised to see a man standing above us.

  He’s wearing a shirt that has FBI written across the chest in bright bold, white lettering.

  Lucas stands behind me, lifting me with him until he gently releases me onto my feet. His hand immediately wraps around my waist.

  He grips my hip, his fingers biting into my side. The man in front of us drops his eyes to Lucas’ grip on my waist and then brings them back up with a smirk.

  “We’ve been watching Giang Ngyuen for two-years, building a case against him and his ring, which means we’ve had eyes on Dunning, as well. Though your investigative skills were impressive, Miss Myers, they also compromised our case.”

  My eyes widen at his words, and I gasp. Lucas growls low behind me, his chest vibrating against my back. I expect him to shout at this stranger in front of me, but he isn’t given the opportunity. The FBI agent isn’t finished talking, yet.

  “That being said, your report that was filed with our office was extremely helpful and thorough,” he admits, although it sounds begrudging. “Giang will go down, both Dunnings will go down, and you two are free to go.”

  “My woman was held at gunpoint, threatened, and that’s all you have to say to us, Jonas?”

  The FBI agent shakes his head. “Lucas, you know I can’t tell you much more. We appreciate your hard work, but you two are just the tip of the iceberg. This man is dangerous, you should be thankful that it’s over and there weren’t any casualties.”

  “What about the sex trafficking? Will he go down for threatening to sell me?” I ask.

  It’s the wrong thing to say. I know that the moment Lucas’ body freezes behind me. He didn’t know. I don’t know how long he was standing behind me earlier, but it must not have been very long if he didn’t know about the sex stuff Giang threatened.

  “That is the sole reason we weren’t ready to take him down. We were still trying to figure out the identities of his buyers, or at least how he got into contact with them. Unfortunately, we couldn’t risk you being taken.”

  “So, you would have used her for bait if it was up to you?” Lucas deduces.

  The FBI agent’s eyes turn sharp. “I would have done whatever I had to do to save the lives of hundreds of women. Again, it wasn’t my call, Lucas.”

  The agent turns and stomps away from us, but Lucas is livid. I turn around in his arms and look up into his angry green gaze.

  “It’s done now, baby,” I say, giving him a watery smile, hoping to calm him down a smidgen.

  “You guys are free to go,” Detective Anderson’s voice rings out from next to us.

  I turn my head. “Were you the one who wouldn’t let him take me?”

  Lucas’ fingers grip my shirt at my back. The fabric of my shirt is now on the verge of ripping in his strong grasp.

  “I don’t have much pull with the Feds, but I made it clear that you’d had enough from the Dunnings and their shenanigans. I also reminded them what happened the last time they tried the same thing,” he states as he turns to walk away.

  “What happened?” I call out.

  Detective Anderson turns around and his eyes darken. “She didn’t survive it, Brooklyn. The girl didn’t make it and her death—it didn’t mean we saved any more girls, we didn’t even save one. It was all for naught.”

  I watch him walk away from us, Lucas gives me a little shake, causing me to turn my head, then the rest of my body to face him.

  He looks a combination of serious, pissed, worried, and fucking done with tonight. Not to mention relieved. He looks as relieved as I feel.

  “Let’s go home,” I whisper.

  “Home,” he nods.

  We walk over to my desk, Lucas never leaves my side, and my hand is gripping his like a vise.

  “My car?” I ask when he guides me over to his car in the parking garage.

  “I’ll find someone to pick it up tomorrow,” he murmurs as he helps me into the passenger seat.

  Lucas quickly slides into his seat and starts the engine. He guides his car with ease toward our place. The roads aren’t as busy as they usually are when we go home, but it’s much later than our normal drive.

  I watch his profile, trying to figure out what he’s thinking exactly. I feel like everything from the past few hours is starting to come down around me, crashing and tumbling in my mind.

  “Go inside and wait for me in our bedroom,” he orders as he pushes the button to close the garage door.

  I didn’t even realize we were already home. I let out a sigh of relief. I’m safe—we’re safe, finally. Lucas clears his throat and my body shivers.

  I don’t think.

  I blindly follow his directions, dumping my bag on the kitchen counter before I make my way upstairs.

  My hands move automatically, removing my clothes with urgency. I want them off of me, every bit of what I’m wearing. I want it gone and I never want to see it again. I want to burn these clothes. I want to erase today from my memory completely.

  “Kitten,” Lucas’ voice murmurs into the room
.

  Turning around, I face him, completely nude and with tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “I want that shit in the trash, burned, gone,” I practically scream.

  Calmer than I thought possible, Lucas walks over to my pile of clothes and shoes, picking them up. I watch him walk over to the bathroom, I hear them hit the small trashcan in there, my shoes making the loudest noise.

  When he reappears, he doesn’t wrap me in his arms or kiss me, he removes his own clothing. I watch, my body automatically responding to his as my heart starts to slam against my chest and my pussy clenches.

  Lucas’ green eyes meet mine, I don’t understand the look, but I don’t question him, either. I watch him. He closes the distance between us.

  Wrapping one hand around the back of my neck, he tugs me a little closer as his lips crash against mine.

  His kiss starts out hard, owning, branding. Then, he devours me, his tongue slipping into my mouth while his lips press against my own. I wrap my hands around his shoulders and press my breasts against his hard chest.

  I want to feel his body against mine, and suddenly I find that I urgently need him inside of me. Reaching between us, I wrap my hand around his hard length and I give him a squeeze.

  Lucas releases my neck before I feel both of his hands wrap around the backs of my thighs. He lifts me in his arms. Spreading my legs, I wrap them around his hips as he turns me before lowering me down on the bed.

  I don’t even get the opportunity to take a breath before he slides inside of me. He fucks me. His hips slam against mine, his green eyes focus on my own and silently he takes me. It’s hard, it’s fast, and it’s demanding.

  “Baby,” I whimper, lifting my hand and wrapping my fingers around the back of his neck.

  Gently, I tug his head down for another kiss, moaning into his mouth. He swallows my sounds, his tongue filling my mouth as his cock continues to drive into me with rough force.

  One of his hands wraps around my shoulder, while the other moves to the back of my head, his fingers holding onto my hair with his tight grasp. He uses his grip on my body for leverage and thrusts inside of me, slamming with so much force and speed, that I can do nothing but pant below him.