SEAL INVESTIGATIONS: A 5-Books SEAL Romance Series

by Lola Silverman

  “Really?” Cassidy couldn’t even pretend to be that dumb. “There are beds in each room. Why?”

  “The people who work here are sometimes on super late shifts. They can come up here and catch a few hours of rest on their break.” Michael suddenly grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry about it, baby. Let’s just go get some of the good stuff and have fun.”

  “Sure.”

  He was leading her into the opposite corner of the office where she and Romero had cornered Adams. It was dark up here and smelled faintly of something Cassidy couldn’t quite put her finger on. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. It was as if every cell in her body was attuned to the fact that this was all wrong.

  The hallway finally opened up into a sitting area. If this had been a real office suite, it might have functioned as a reception room. The windows appeared to be painted over in black. The sofa was faux leather and worn. There was a low coffee table scattered with ashtrays and mirrors. A mixture of what appeared to be white powder and ashes was liberally sprinkled over the whole thing.

  There were also other people up here. Cassidy felt some of the tension leaving her body in spite of herself. Just the presence of other couples seemed to make her feel more secure. Except she shouldn’t have bought into that illusion of safety in numbers, because the other women were up here with bait, and they seemed to be compromised somehow.

  The other two couples in the room were deep in the thralls of some serious make-out sessions. The sounds coming from their opposite corners were something between grunts and sighs, with a few whimpers thrown in for good measure. The girl in the far corner on the low couch that looked almost like a bed was half undressed. The other one looked like she was ready to start having sex at any moment.

  “Here.” Michael picked up an already lit joint and took a hit. “Have some.”

  ROMERO CLIMBED UP the wall and into the ceiling beams as though he were on a set of stairs. Climbing had always been one of his particular talents. A fortunate coincidence, as there did not appear to be any other way to gain access to the third floor from the club.

  He had attempted to wander his way upstairs to the VIP area, but without causing a huge scene and taking out the bouncer, that hadn’t been about to happen. He had watched Cassidy accompany the slimy bait through the door that exited the VIP just behind the bar. There were stairs. He’d seen that much through the open door. He knew they were going to the third floor, which left him the task of getting up there.

  He carefully made his way through the beams until he reached an access panel that led to the wide ventilation shafts. A building this size usually had good-sized ductwork to match. Pulling a tool from his pocket, he unfastened the four screws holding it in place and entered the shaft.

  It was dark and smelled faintly of something he couldn’t identify. It was sickly sweet and made his stomach heave. Taking control of his body with force, he continued on until the metal pathway turned abruptly left. He followed this for awhile and then came to a grate in the bottom.

  Lying on his belly, he pressed one eye to the grate and tried to get a feel for where he might be. He could immediately sketch out some minor details of a room with what appeared to be a conference table. There were men down there. He could see their hands on the table, flipping through papers.

  “So have we decided what to do with the Cross woman?” someone asked.

  Romero’s gut tightened. This was not good. He held his breath and forced himself to remain calm and silent.

  “Michael has her up here on the third floor as we speak. He has orders to drug her and stick her in a room. We’ll have to decide from there if we want to put her in with this next shipment or not.”

  The first man gave a derisive snort. “She isn’t really suited to the trade.”

  “No, but we could throw her in as a freebee just to get rid of her. She asks too many questions.”

  “You’re a fool,” the first man said in an almost dismissive tone of voice. “You shouldn’t be worrying about the woman. Your primary concern should be the man. This is not someone to trifle with. He knows too much and isn’t the type to be bought off.”

  “So we kill him.” Romero could hear the dismissive shrug in this asshole’s voice. “Who cares? One more threat eliminated, and in a few weeks we’ll be out of this city and on to someplace new.”

  “Yes, that is a given.” The first man was adamant. “We’ve stayed too long in this place already.”

  “Where are we going next?”

  “The Broker has determined that DC is the next hunting ground. We’ve already laid the groundwork.”

  “And the loose ends here?”

  “We will dispose of those as soon as may be.”

  The two men got up from the table and exited the room through a door on the far end. Romero waited an interminable minute before he unfastened the grate and pulled it back into the tunnel. Then very carefully he lowered himself out of the duct and landed on the conference table.

  He immediately rolled to the floor and crouched there, waiting to see if anyone had heard him or somehow spotted his movements. A sense of urgency was making him dizzy. Cassidy was in very real trouble, and he needed to find her fast.

  CASSIDY FELT HORRIBLY lightheaded. She had attempted to smoke the joint while inhaling as little of the drug as possible, but when the person next to you was practically blowing the smoke into your face it was difficult to remain completely unaffected. Now her head was heavy and she couldn’t seem to make her brain stay on task. She shook her head as Michael smiled and even chuckled at her.

  “You don’t do this very often,” he remarked. “Do you?”

  “No.”

  “So how about you come give me a little kiss.”

  “No.” She got to her feet, weaving a bit. “I think I’m going to be sick. Do you have a bathroom?”

  He drew back as though she had just announced she had the plague. Obviously dealing with sick prey wasn’t in his job description. “Down the hall, first door on the left.”

  “Thanks,” she slurred.

  The walk was probably only a few yards. It felt as though it took her a year to get there. She was slogging through glue. Her feet were weighed down in cement, and she could hardly keep her head up. She just wanted to go to sleep. She could see the door where she was going. There was a bathroom there. Presumably there would be water she could splash on her face. She felt so hot. Just a bit of water would make it better. She would wake up. Then she could set about finding out more about this—what was going on here—and doing… There was something she was supposed to be doing.

  Cassidy’s sluggish brain seemed to stop altogether. She was walking down a hallway. It seemed to grow to the length of a football field. Where had she been going? She was so sleepy.

  She went down on her knees, her body folding up and just giving out. Finally she realized that she was looking up at the ceiling. She couldn’t even remember where she was or why she was there. She just wanted to float. It was all that mattered now.

  ROMERO CREPT DOWN the hallway. The odor was growing stronger. At this point he was following it. As the scent got more pervasive, he began to hear people. The scrape of furniture being moved, and the murmur of low male voices drifted down the hallway.

  “Damn, that girl was a lightweight!” someone said with a hoot of laughter.

  Another voice answered. “Yeah, you really know how to pick them, Michael.”

  “I didn’t pick that bitch. That was management’s choice.” The man named Michael sounded affronted. “I didn’t even get a blow job out of it.”

  “Oh, poor baby,” someone teased. “Now would you help me lift this girl? She weighs a ton.”

  “Or you’re just a total weakling. You should try working out and smoking less pot.” Michael sounded snarky. Apparently being denied one of the perks of his job was a big deal.

  Romero pressed his back to the wall and leaned out just far enough to get a glimpse of what he was
walking into. It was a sitting area of sorts. There were couches, a low table filled with drug paraphernalia, and three women were actually piled in the middle of the floor.

  “We need to get this place cleaned up before the ones come back up here.”

  “So toss the girls in their holding cells and be done,” the man named Michael suggested.

  Michael was the piece of bait that Cassidy had followed up here. Romero forcefully resisted the urge to grab him and beat him until he paid for what he’d obviously done to Cassidy.

  She was insensible on the floor. Romero clenched his hands tightly. He could see her chest rising and falling, which gave him comfort. She was still alive. Had she been dead he would have painted this place in blood. For now he needed to get in and out and get her home. He needed to get her a tox screen and find out what they’d given her.

  Two of the young men picked up one of the women by her hands and ankles. She hung suspended between them as they carried her down the hallway to an open door. Her head lolled to the side, a disturbing sight. She was obviously out. Had they given her something? An injection perhaps?

  Romero gathered himself. He was going to have to take the next opportunity that presented itself. When the men came back to retrieve another victim, he held his breath in anticipation. Fortunately they grabbed the second woman and not Cassidy. The men carried her much as they had the first one.

  The Michael person was tidying up the sitting area. He had his back to Romero, and Cassidy was still on the floor. As soon as the other two were out of sight down the hallway, Romero bolted from his cover. He closed the distance between himself and Michael quickly. Grabbing the man’s neck, he squeezed until Michael collapsed to the floor, as insensible as Cassidy was for the moment. Then Romero scooped Cassidy into his arms and flung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  Now. If he could only manage to get her out of here without attracting undue attention.

  “Hey!” someone shouted. “Where did you come from?”

  So much for stealth. Romero prepared to get rid of the rest of the bait.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Romero bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, waiting to see what the two remaining men were going to do. Cassidy was still hanging over his shoulder. The sheer heaviness of her body suggested she wasn’t going to come to anytime soon. She was utter dead weight at the moment.

  “What do we do?” one man whispered to the other.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like anyone ever mentioned this situation.”

  “Rush him,” the first one advised. “We’ll just take him down.”

  Romero almost gave in to the urge to curse out loud. This wasn’t going to be hard, but it was going to be messy. He swung Cassidy deftly off his shoulder and set her on the ground with her back against the wall. Then he turned back around just in time.

  As he’d expected, the two idiots had assumed that he was distracted while setting down his cargo. They sprinted toward him, arms outstretched as if they intended to use their bodies as weapons. Both hit him at the same time. With their arms and legs flailing about like two schoolyard bullies in a catfight, they went down like a ton of bricks.

  Romero skillfully twisted his body, managing to land on top of his attackers. He grappled with them for just a moment. They weren’t strong, but they were young and athletic enough. Finally he managed to sink his hands into their greasy hair. Clenching tight, he bashed their heads together in one quick motion.

  He rolled away from the carnage and stood up. Going down on one knee, he wiped his gooey hands on the one guy’s long-tailed shirt. “Use enough hair product? Sheesh!”

  Pivoting gracefully, Romero knelt before Cassidy and tried to get her to come to. Very gently he cupped her cheeks and gave her a little tap. There was absolutely no response. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Without her conscious there was no way he could go back out the way they’d gone before. The fire escape would be entirely too much for him to navigate while carrying her over his shoulder. He would have to go down through the club.

  “Hell,” he muttered.

  This was going to have to happen fast. He began walking quickly, barreling back through the maze of rooms. He felt more than a modicum of guilt that he was leaving two other helpless young women behind, but he shoved that thought right into the kill-box and slammed the lid closed. He couldn’t save them right now. He could only attempt to unravel this mess and expose whatever was actually going on here at this club.

  The door at the end of the hallway loomed ahead. Romero shoved it open and found himself in a narrow stairwell. He was almost ninety percent certain that the other end of this stairwell exited just behind the bar in the VIP section of the club. This was going to be close. He just prayed it didn’t get messy. Not here. Not now.

  His gut knotted as his nervous system snapped his battle reflexes into play. He hit the breaker bar on the exit door like a freight train. The big slab of metal swung open so hard it hit the wall behind it. Romero barreled through without even pausing.

  “Hey!” someone called. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “She’s had a little too much fun. Time to go home,” he said loudly.

  Romero looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the bartender signaling a bouncer. They were now converging. There was only one way out of this VIP lounge, and there was a giant, ham-fisted bouncer in the way.

  Keeping his strides long and powerful, Romero ducked around several partiers and made the stairs. The bouncer was already looking up at him, body tense and ready. Behind him, Romero heard two other guys clumsily descending the stairs.

  Romero settled Cassidy’s dead weight more firmly in place. He let go of her, keeping her weight balanced over his shoulder. Grabbing the side rails of the narrow metal staircase, he swung his lower body like a pendulum. His boots made direct contact with the center mass of the overblown bouncer at the bottom of the stairs. The man flew backwards so hard that he did a little somersault and lay stunned on the floor.

  There was no time to stand around and admire his bit of creative athleticism. Romero wrapped his arm around Cassidy’s backside and put his other arm out like a battering ram. He hit the crowd of people on the dance floor like a Sherman tank on a rampage. Club-goers scattered. Some fell over, some stepped away, but they all screamed and shouted and yelled insults at him. Romero didn’t care. They were creating a rather beautiful diversion that was going to help him get out of this place.

  Behind him he heard the rough shouts of the bouncers as they tried to get through the chaos. Romero pivoted, spun, and ducked his way out toward the exit. He kept his trajectory centered between two of the marked doorways. He could see more staff gathering, trying to anticipate his route. He veered toward the one on the left, farthest away from the club entrance. As he’d expected, everyone rushed to cut him off.

  At the last second Romero abruptly veered toward the entrance. He burst through the flimsy velvet ropes and whipped right by the bored man looking at IDs. Taking the steps two at a time, he was glad to see the sea of waiting people beginning to part. They had no idea what was going on, but they weren’t about to get in the way.

  Finally Romero was in the clear air and sprinting down the block. There were still yells and the slap of boots on pavement behind him, but none of those heavy-bodied meatheads were fast enough to even get close. They were free and clear for the moment.

  CASSIDY COULD NOT imagine why her hair was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Worse, she had a headache so fierce she would have been glad for decapitation. She tried to blink, but her eyes seemed to be glued shut. It was as if she couldn’t remember how to operate her eyelids.

  Her brain was sluggish. It took several minutes for her to process the fact that her cheek was smashed up against something hard and bouncing. At least, it felt like she was bouncing. And she was upside down. Or maybe she was lying on the floor. She couldn’t have said. The taste in her mouth was awful, but she didn’t think it
was from her hair.

  She wanted to wake up. Ordering her eyelids to open didn’t work. She tried to move her fingers and couldn’t. Finally she started to panic. Had she been in an accident? What if she was paralyzed? The horror of that possibility was enough to make her struggle harder to move her body. An arm, a leg, even a pinkie finger, but she couldn’t make any of them obey.

  “Cassidy?”

  The low voice was familiar. She felt her heart begin to slow down. She knew that voice. It belonged to Romero. If anyone could help it, it was Jase Romero. The man had walked through fire for her already—literally.

  “Can you hear me?” Romero murmured. “Wiggle your nose if you can hear me, Cassidy.”

  Her nose? That was silly. Except she suddenly found that she could twitch her nose. It was more her upper lip, but it would at least move. That made her feel better. She wasn’t paralyzed.

  She felt him touch her hair. “That’s it. Now can you move your fingers? I’m going to pick them up, okay? I’ll hold your hand up, and you just try and wiggle one finger.”

  The sensation of having him touch her hand was so very odd. She had almost no control over her limb, yet she felt it move. Then she had the sensation of her hand being suspended in air. Then she very deliberately thought of her index finger. She imagined the topmost joint moving and felt it do so.

  “Good.”

  He was praising her as though she’d just climbed Mt. Everest. What was going on? She began to panic again.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” he crooned. “That asshole Michael drugged you. All right? You’re coming out of it. Just rest. You’ll continue to get your feeling back in your arms and legs just as soon as everything starts to wear off.”

  She felt the surface beneath her move. Was it a bed? Then Romero curled up against her. She knew that’s what he was doing because she was soon deliciously warm. She hadn’t even realized that she was cold. Yet it was so cold. Her skin was like ice.

  “You’re freezing, sweetheart.” He pulled a blanket up over them both. “I’m going to try and warm you up with my body heat.”