Relentless Night (New York Knights Book 4)

by S. M. West

  Besides, he’s stalled me long enough that I now have no chance of following Max. Plan B is now in play.

  “I never underestimate you, so don’t insult me. Get lost. And in return, I’ll never speak of seeing you to my brothers.”

  He is nothing if not loyal. For him to make that kind of promise, to withhold information from his childhood friends, Van and Ry—and his word extends to Max, too, I’m sure—is huge.

  “Thank you.”

  He turns on his heel, waving off my gratitude like a pestering fly. At the edge, where the alleyway and sidewalk meet, he stops, peering over his shoulder at me. “And Tommie?”

  “Yeah?” I whisper, uncertain I want to hear what he has to say.

  “We’re going to get him. Stay out of this and be safe. You need anything, call me.”

  He waits for my nod, likely thinking I’m consenting to his wishes but it’s more in understanding, before he leaves the way he came. I have immense respect for Tripp, and it just grew tenfold in the past few minutes.

  I blink back my silly tears, again reminded of all the things, no, the people I’m trying to save, and that I’d be giving up if we fail tonight. If I have to leave this city.

  As promised, I lie low, spending the night at a hostel, and stay out of the way. I don’t sleep a wink, too wound up to relax and instead, I plot what comes next. If Ash isn’t in jail tomorrow, I’m going to have to make my move.

  Max

  The drive is interminable. I really don’t know what to expect. Will the women be in cages? Tied up? It could be worse than I anticipate and through it all, I’ve got to keep my shit together. There’s a lot riding on tonight and me keeping my cool.

  The car stops in front of a men’s clothing store and I double check the address. This isn’t a warehouse and we’re in a pretty decent part of the city. As I step out of the vehicle, I’m sickened to see average, everyday people going about their lives when behind a storefront some of the most unimaginable and inhumane acts are about to go down.

  Tiny stands at the entrance and wordlessly ushers me inside. We walk to the back of the retailer where two large men stand on either side of a doorway. Just past the door is a staircase.

  Beads of sweat pool around the nape of my neck and heat builds within me as the men pat me down. It could all be over right now if they find the tracking device.

  It’s only when my feet hit the staircase that my breath starts to move again. I follow Tiny up the stairs and down a long and narrow passageway, all the while, willing my body to relax.

  There’s no way this hall that appears to connect the buildings was part of the original blueprint. The walkway goes on for quite some time, at least three or four buildings over from where I entered at street level, before we finally come to the end.

  I wonder if the team is still able to pick up my signal and even if they do, how long would it take them to figure out where the passage is?

  We get into the elevator, going down three floors to a sub-basement level where we exit into a dark room. So dark it could be a dungeon.

  Holy shit. I might as well be buried. When I had no clue what I was in for, I’d wondered if I’d get out alive. Now it feels like that’s a distinct possibility, and all I can think about is how I will have failed if that happens.

  None of those women in captivity will be saved, and Tommie? Fuck, what if Ash already has her? Why the hell did she run off? Why didn’t I try to stop her?

  Music plays softly and there is a low murmur from the crowd of mostly men, permeating the space. I’ve got to focus and keep all doubts or misgivings locked away.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a sex club. A kinky sex club. Women are barely clothed, many naked, all in cages. If tonight goes well, in a matter of hours, they’ll be free.

  Tiny orders me to stay in a corner and not to move unless someone comes for me. Neither Ash nor Taya are visible from my vantage point. I’m surprised not to see at least one of them.

  Or maybe the risk is too high to be caught here? But if so, how the hell are we supposed to tie them to this fucking nightmare?

  Finally, the music stops and a male voice booms over a speaker system. A number is called and on cue, a man in all black, including a hooded mask, parades a woman with a neck collar attached to a long rod, which he uses to guide her across the stage.

  The bidding begins just like you’d see at any auction and my sickening repulsion mounts as the dollar figures climb. We’re talking humans, not fucking art.

  At first I count how many transactions, ten then twenty, at the same time looking around as much as possible without raising suspicion. Sadly, but not at all surprisingly, there are a few bigwigs in this crowd.

  Powerful and noteworthy businessmen, for whose blood there would be an outcry if the public knew they were here, and in turn, what kind of horrific acts they were into.

  There’s no way Ash or Taya aren’t here with this caliber of people and more importantly, their kind of money. But there’s no sign of them.

  Sweat clings to me and my hands are slick from nerves. Even hidden in the shadows that this corner of the room affords me, there’s still a sense of heightened danger, tension, in the air.

  Well past thirty transactions, I lose count when a woman, who was just on stage and sold to a Russian, refuses to go with her new master. He’s a scary motherfucker, and furious, the asshole backhands her across the face, sending her to the floor.

  Commotion ensues as men the size of bouncers circle the pair and a few others take it upon themselves to get involved. The Russian wants out of the deal. He wants a better slave, no longer willing to pay for what he calls damaged goods. Things look to be getting dicey.

  My heartbeat kicks into high gear and I track the room, once again looking for any sign of Taya or Ash, when I notice one of her men headed toward me. Perhaps I’m going to be taken to her and I follow without question.

  Two of the walls in this place are made of tinted floor-to-ceiling glass and as we pass by them, I get a better look. I’m pretty sure they are one-way mirrors. Ash and Taya might be behind one of those walls. What better way to watch over the debauchery without getting their hands dirty?

  I’m sick to my stomach at being here. It’s bad enough to see these people, mostly women, being sold like cattle, and what makes it worse is to think of Tommie in this world. What she endured.

  I want to put an end to this, but I have to go along with it for now. Ry and Tripp made it clear that the plan is for the FBI to raid the auction, most probably any minute now.

  My orders are to watch and share the details after the fact. I will be swept up with the rest of them when all hell breaks loose. If my mother and the asshole, Ash, are here, they need to believe I had nothing to do with it.

  We stop just feet from the Russian and other men, arguing about the injured woman and getting another one. There’s a man dressed in what looks to be an expensive suit and he’s talking calmly, so quietly I can’t make out a word, to the Russian. He looks to be running the show.

  Taya’s man points to a woman on the floor. The one who was hit, and I quickly remove her from the fray, into a corner where I can get a better look at the damage.

  She’s crying and cowering from me as if I’m going to hit her or hurt her. My chest tightens at how afraid she must be.

  “It’s okay.” I brush back her dark bangs to get a better look at the gash. “I’m a doctor. I won’t hurt you.”

  She trembles, shaking, but she doesn’t fight me. Blood streams down her face, some of it getting into her eye. Head wounds always bleed like a son of a bitch.

  From the way her skin split, she needs stitches. I grab a clean, unused napkin resting on a nearby table and bring it to the cut.

  “Can you hold this?”

  She nods, replacing my hand with hers, and at the same time, the double entry doors into this makeshift club are busted wide open.

  The cavalry is here and relief surges through me.

&
nbsp; One of the men leading the heavily-armed troops announces their arrival and identifies themselves as FBI, and any lingering fear evaporates.

  It’s short-lived when screams, yells and a few gunshots rip through the room. Even with the end in sight, I might not make it out alive.

  The atmosphere is a powder keg. All it will take is a spark to set this place ablaze. The voice over the speaker stops talking and a sharp sound tears through the system, causing many to cringe and grab or cover their ears as a man mutters several expletives over the airwaves.

  It’s pandemonium for several minutes and I stay put, shielding the woman at my side as best as I can while she cries. People, men and captured women, are running in every direction.

  An armed man in a flak suit, head gear and assault rifle—one of the good guys—descends upon us and while I should be relieved, I’m treated like all the other scum here.

  I want to fight back and shout that I’m on their side but as another guy, also FBI, carefully takes care of the woman, I resist, glad to see she’s going to be okay. I’m roughed up and thrown around as I’m hauled over to a group of men they have rounded up.

  The exit from the building involves more hitting and shoving as I’m part of a line of men, shackled and led outside. Before being tossed into the back of a large van, I use the remaining seconds to scour the street and the small crowds of law enforcement and offenders.

  I’m looking for either Taya or Ash. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mother tries to play the victim, but still no sign of either of them.

  A sinking feeling consumes me. Dark and oppressive as this muggy Manhattan night. What if all of this was for nothing and they got away? Or worse still, what if they were never here to begin with?

  Tommie

  From what I’ve been able to find out, Ash isn’t behind bars. We failed. So plan B.

  I’m the bait.

  That’s how this works.

  If Ash knew how to find me, he would have by now. So I’m going to make it easy for him. I check out of the hostel and return to my apartment. I’m guessing the camera is still operational so Zero and Ash may already know where I am.

  My phone is where I left it and I power it on. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I release some of my anxiety. My plan isn’t perfect, nothing ever is. The phone is a beacon. Soon HC will know where to find me and I’m sure—would bet my life on it—that Zero has piggybacked on the tracking system.

  Within five minutes, I leave my apartment and head uptown to Central Park. Surprise, surprise, Ash is sitting on the park bench just like I expected him to be. Good boy. Who’s playing who now, asshole?

  I’m not sure if I should be glad that my plan worked and he’s here. It only slaps me in the face once more with the reminder that last night’s bust at the auction, or least that was the plan before I walked away, didn’t go well. Ash is still free.

  I had counted on Ash figuring out my destination once Zero had a lock on me. It was the last place we talked. And it’s public.

  For plan B—this meeting—to work, Max needed to be busy. The chance is slim that he’ll see us but he did last time and I didn’t want to run the risk of that happening again.

  One of my informants is watching Max and I just got a text on my burner, confirming he’s at HC. While I’m not sure why, my guess is to debrief about the auction—boy what I’d give to listen in on that, to know what happened last night.

  Ash’s dark gaze lands on me. “Well, Thomasina, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

  “How so?” I’m somewhat comforted by a couple on the grass not too far from us. They may not be able to hear what we’re saying but we aren’t alone.

  He pats the empty space beside him on the bench. I neither acknowledge nor decline his unwanted invitation. Last time he got too close, he nearly didn’t let me go. I’ll stand, thank you very much.

  “Disappearing like you did. You left Zero in a dither.” The monster smiles and I can’t help but think of a shark’s jagged, razor-sharp teeth. “He was really quite surprised and then angry that you got the better of him.”

  I press my lips together to suppress a grin to match my mounting pride. “What can I say, he taught me well.”

  What sounds like a compliment is more of a calculated concession. Ash pliant and amenable is my goal, and in truth, my cyber prowess in subterfuge and all things underhanded is all thanks to Ash, indirectly. He was the one to give me time with the computer wizard when in captivity. He was the one who allowed me to watch and learn from Zero.

  What’s even more present, as we warily stare at each other, is the game we’ve begun. He wants me back in captivity and I want him behind bars. Both our traps are set, and what’s at the crux of this meeting is who will make checkmate first?

  “Yes, he did indeed.” His tone is dry, almost bored as he picks at a loose thread on the leg of his expensive dress pants. “Where have you been?”

  “Let’s play a game.” A warm breeze thrusts a few strands of hair into my face and I brush them away as I did with his question.

  “A game?” He cocks his head to the side, unamused with me but not annoyed.

  “Yes. One of our old games. Quid pro quo.” A tremor courses through my veins, not at the mention of our past but at the way in which I make it sound nostalgic rather than a horrific nightmare.

  His lips quirk as he waits, prompting me to continue. “I ask a question. When you answer, I’ll return the favor.”

  It’s the game he played with Max. Ash enjoys this kind of recreation. He believes the banter and questions reveal so much about the other person. And in this case, he’s right. I will be tipping my hand with my interrogation, but I’m hoping he does the same.

  “Very well then.” He straightens and uncrosses his legs, staring unscrupulously. “Sit down first.”

  “Is that a dealbreaker?” I take a small, subtle step backward. If I don’t have to get within touching distance, all the better.

  “Yes.” Both his large, manicured hands now cup his knees and his gaze is intense.

  It’s as if he’s daring me to disobey. Perhaps even daring me to run. My arm presses against the crossover purse resting at my waist, in front of me. It’s empty save for two cellphones and a gun.

  Fortified with that knowledge, I push past every nerve ending ablaze in warning and grant his wish. Sitting gives him the upper hand as I’m quicker on my feet, and I only hope he doesn’t have a syringe. He’s drugged me before.

  Reluctantly, I squeeze my body onto one end of the bench, as far away from him as possible, which isn’t much.

  “I get to go first.” I beam at him, hiding my aversion to our proximity.

  My therapist would be proud. I’m presenting well—so well put together—but it’s all surface. Inside, I’m breaking apart, struggling to keep myself in one piece, and judging from his expression, I’m succeeding. I doubt he’s aware of my inner turmoil.

  “Why would you think you go first?” His dark brow arches.

  “I just gave you something you wanted.” I pat the space between us reminding him I’m where he wanted me. “It seems only fair that you now return the favor.”

  He smiles. A bright smile for him, but no less bone-chilling to me. “Fine.”

  “You never answered my question from the other day about Taya. Why did you get into business with her?”

  “That’s your question?” A wicked grin slithers across his face like a venomous serpent. “I’m disappointed, Thomasina. You already know why, but I’ll entertain your silly question. There are several reasons. Firstly, her business is appealing because of her network. Secondly, she interested me because of the connection to you through Max.”

  He stops, letting his implication sink in. I shouldn’t be all that surprised but I still have to fight the urge to flee. Fidgeting in the seat, I battle internally to stop my body’s betrayal.

  “And finally, Taya Conrad is an easy mark.” He licks his lips and I avert my gaze, my stomach somersaulting
at an alarming, nauseous speed.

  “What do you mean?” My eyes are on the couple lying on a blanket, making out. As the tumultuous wave in my belly calms, my chest spasms at the brief, forbidden thought of Max.

  “Nice try. My turn.”

  “All right. Ask away.” I turn to face him. The brief thought of my lover reminds me I risked this meeting. I can’t help but look for another way to bring Ash down.

  “Are you done with Max? Are you done with Evan? Are you prepared to come back to me? Or are you going to force me to take what is mine?”

  I try once, twice, to swallow past the inevitable lump in my throat. I try again, almost choking on my fears. “That’s more than one question. But I’ll answer.”

  I’m much bolder than I would have been years ago. The girl he kidnapped may be a part of me but I’m no longer her. I love and cherish so much about her, but I will never be her again. And even if he scares me—he always will—I won’t let him see or smell my fear. Never.

  “I’ve left my friends. You know that since you’ve been watching these past few days. I haven’t gone near any one of them and I won’t. I promise.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Are you ready to come home to me?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know yet.” It’s a lie, I’ll never go back to him, but I’m stalling.

  He tilts his head back and barks out a laugh as if I’m the funniest person in the world. I frown at how hilarious he finds my freedom. I’m not joking.

  “You’re quite amusing, my dear. I’d forgotten how much so.”

  I dip my chin and steel my spine, ready with my question, not willing to waste another second on his question. His desire.

  “You said Taya was an easy mark—how so?”

  “She’s of no consequence to me. She’s a lonely woman. I’ll take all that I deem useful or valuable from her, and I won’t ask permission.” His obsidian gaze threatens to eat me alive. “As for Taya, I couldn’t care less what happens to her. She’s vapid and boring.”