Forged by Steel

by J. B. Havens

  The hair on the back of Rook’s neck stood up, his Spidey-sense on full alert. The tables were about to be turned on him.

  “I was with Anton when he died. I delivered girl. That should be enough for you.”

  “Dimitri!”

  The door opened and in came the goon. “Yes, boss?”

  “Am I idiot?”

  Confusion graced the poor fool’s face for a brief second. “No, sir. Of course not.”

  “Bring me girl. Now.”

  Rook tensed. Things were starting to go sideways. He needed to turn this back around to his advantage and do it quickly before he and Mic were dead at Yusef’s expensively shod feet.

  ****

  The same man that let us into the kitchen came and retrieved me from my room. He didn’t say a word, just tugged me by the arm down a hallway. We passed the kitchen and I saw Jordon still standing by the door where we’d left him. He tensed, as if he was going to step forward. I shook my head. He needed to stay there, at least for now.

  My wrists were beginning to ache from where they were bound in front of my waist, the zip ties cutting into my skin. I twisted them around, fighting for a more comfortable position.

  After knocking twice, my guard opened a massive carved wooden door. Pushing me forward, I stumbled in my ridiculous shoes, falling to my knees on the soft carpet.

  I kept my head down and looked up through my hair. I could see the backs of Rook’s legs in front of me and in front of him was a pair of feet in expensive shoes, polished to a high sheen. I forced myself to be meek, to appear weak and beaten down. I didn’t move.

  Rook was speaking, answering Yusef’s questions. I couldn’t understand any of it.

  “Up! Get her up!” Yusef shouted in English. The guard grabbed me by the arm, jerking me to my feet. I wobbled in the heels, trying to get my balance.

  I yelped in pain when the guard took a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back, forcing my face into the light.

  Rook caught my eye, looking left, then right. I blinked twice in understanding.

  Fuck, this was going to hurt…

  “Who is this? This is not one of the girls I bought.” Yusef was furious, holding a Polaroid of one of the girls next to my face. He grabbed my jaw, squeezing me with a hand that could easily palm my entire face. He smeared his thumb over my scar, rubbing the make-up off.

  “She was girl who was delivered. Take it up with Anton’s client.” Rook was trying to buy time. We needed just a few more minutes.

  Yusef shook me like a doll, never loosening his grip on my face. “This trash is not what I paid for! I am going to deal with this scar-faced cunt, and you better hope she satisfies me, or I am taking payment out of your hide, you bastard.” Spit flew from his mouth as he yelled. Reaching out, he jerked on my dress, ripping it from the neck down.

  I planted my feet as solidly as I could, waiting for Rook’s signal. Catching his eye, I held out.

  He nodded.

  I “tripped” to the left, ripping a fistful of my hair out in the process. Tucking in my shoulder, I planted it into Yusef’s soft belly with every ounce of body weight I could muster.

  He grunted and air flew from his lungs with a whoosh. My momentum carried me down after him. I brought my knee up before I landed, digging it deep into his belly. He twisted to the side, retching violently. I drove my closed fists into his exposed throat. I was in a weak position and didn’t have much leverage, but it didn’t take much force to injure the throat.

  Rolling away, I kicked off the stupid shoes and gained my feet in time to see Rook behind the guard, choking him out in a perfect hold. The guard’s arms were flying around as he struggled to throw Rook off of him. All this noise was going to attract attention. We needed to finish up quickly and get the fuck out of here.

  I quickly spoke into the wire in my bra: “Jordon, everything is good. Stay put until we call you.” He couldn’t respond, so I could only hope that he was still able to hear me.

  Leaping over a still coughing Yusef, I ran to his desk, frantically pulling open drawers, grateful that Jordon had tied my hands in front of my body. The scissors gleamed in my hands as I turned them around and cut the zip ties. I dropped them and pulled the knife from my bra. My dress hanging open made it damn easy to get to.

  With a practiced flick of my thumb, I had the blade out and against Yusef’s neck in seconds.

  I hissed in his ear. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

  “You will pay for this, you bitch.” He spat at me, the disgusting liquid hitting my exposed chest.

  “What is with you Russian fuckers and spitting?” I dug the blade tighter into his neck, drawing blood in a clean straight line.

  “Here.” Rook stepped closer, zip ties at the ready. “Roll his fat ass over.” He resisted, of course, but a well-aimed fist from Rook to his already aching stomach ended his futile movements.

  Grunting, we heaved him onto his stomach and tied his hands and feet. For good measure, I used a third tie to connect his hands to his feet.

  “You wanna act like a hog and spit on people, I’ll fucking treat you like one.” I kicked him in the ribs. Childish to be sure, but it made me feel better.

  “You are dead, bitch! All of you are dead! You do not know who you are fucking dealing with!” He continued to bark at me and I was tempted to kick him in the head a few dozen times, but I had a better idea.

  I rummaged in the desk some more and grabbed a roll of packaging tape. I ripped a long piece off with a screech and roughly taped Yusef’s mouth shut.

  “I’ll make the call.” Rook tapped his phone’s screen a few times and then put it to his ear. After a second, he spoke in Russian and hung up.

  “Okay, get in here.” I again spoke directly into the tiny wire in my bra. “We’ll leave this gift for Nickoli and get the fuck out of Russia.” Glancing downward, I remembered my dress was ripped down the front. My breasts cupped in the plain black cotton bra I wore were front and center. I held the sides of the dress together as well as I could manage. It was all the time I could spare for modesty.

  Moments later, Jordon hustled into the room. His eyes found me first, then Yusef, bound and gagged on the floor.

  Quickly pulling his jacket off, he slid it over my shoulders. “Sorry, I got held up with another one of his so called soldiers. He’s going to wake up with a hell of a fucking headache. Cast iron pans work really well. You okay, babe?”

  “Fine. We need to finish up here and get moving.”

  As I stopped speaking, Flynn and Pierce appeared in the doorway, a heavy package dangling between them. They laid the sheet-wrapped body on the floor next to Yusef. He glared daggers at us all. He was rolling back and forth in useless attempts to get free. Hog-tied, he wasn’t going anywhere. Muffled curses came from his mouth and his face was beet red.

  “Here’s Anton; heard you were looking for him.” Pierce kicked the mob boss in the side. Yusef thrashed some more, drawing his bonds even tighter. His fingers were turning purple, much to my delight.

  Rook bent over the desk, writing something on some stationery. Tearing off more packing tape, he stuck the note to Yusef’s face.

  I read it quickly, before we hustled out the door.

  From Steel, with our regards. Sorry we didn’t have time to take out the garbage, but at least we bagged it up for you.

  What I assumed were the same words in Russian were scrawled below it.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Nickoli and his men will take it from here.” Rook tossed Anton’s phone on top of his body. It held all of the evidence, including numbers and contacts for his clients that the police would need to send Yusef to jail. Now they’d be forced to act.

  Passing the unconscious body of the man Jordon had taken out, Rook led the way and we followed, piling into the van and then heading down the street, just as two large SUVs turned the corner. The lead vehicle flashed its lights at us—it must have been Nickoli.

  Flynn was at the wheel and waved at the SUV
s as we passed them. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t wave, asshat. Jesus.”

  “Just being friendly. No reason not to be.” He was grinning happily, satisfied with our actions.

  I huddled in Jordon’s jacket while he shivered next to me. The warm leather covered me to my knees, reminding me very much of being a little girl. I tucked my chin into the fabric and allowed myself a moment to reflect.

  My mission was complete. With the help of Nickoli and the men of Spetsnaz, a large sex-trafficking ring had been taken down. It would no doubt pop up again at some point—I knew we couldn’t save them all. But we’d done our part, executed our mission with integrity and honor. My men had made me proud. Jackson jumped into my thoughts and I knew he’d be proud too.

  “You alright?” Jordon put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close to his side.

  “I think so.” I paused, then nodded. “Yeah, I really think I am.”

  The sound of the tires on the wet pavement was the only noise in the van. It seemed I wasn’t the only one having a moment of quiet reflection. Rook was staring blankly out the window at the passing scenery. The others were all quiet. Everyone’s adrenaline rush was fading quickly, leaving exhaustion and apathy in its wake.

  Jordon laid his head on top of mine, tucking me in as close to his side as he could. I curled up into his warmth and comfort. The events of the past few days fell away as I had my own adrenaline crash. Feeling feminine and loved, I let it happen, for once, not fighting how I felt or what I wanted. Closing my eyes, I inhaled Jordon’s distinct scent: spice and sweat, with just a tang of gun oil.

  ****

  Mic’s soft, regular breathing told him she was sleeping. He held her close, vowing to never let her go again. It was over—they’d done what they had set out to do. Where did they go from here? It was the same question they all had to be asking themselves.

  With no home, they were cut adrift. But if he knew one thing, it was that Mic would lead them where they should be. She had an idea; she’d just refused to speak about the future until their mission in Russia was checked off the list.

  He didn’t care where they went; as long as he was with her, everything else was gravy.

  Chapter 23

  I sat on the couch of the safe house, checking the messages on my burner phone. There was a call from our pilot, Red, and another from Liam. Typing in my passcode, I listened:

  “If I don’t hear from you by dawn, I’m going to assume you’re dead. Does this mean I get to keep the jet?” There was a beep and the message stopped.

  “Flynn, call Red. Arrange pickup,” I shouted over my shoulder. The guys were all huddled around plates of food, shoveling it in like starving animals.

  “Copy,” he mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich.

  The next voice mail began to play.

  “Hey, Luv. Got a message from your old boss. Seems you have a few things on the way for you to pick up in London. Call me; we’ll make arrangements. Red wants to know if she can have the jet.”

  Standing from the couch, I hit redial, then walked outside onto the deck, counting the rings. Snow and ice were dripping off the eaves as the mid-day sun hit them.

  “Oi.” Liam answered.

  “What stuff?” I cut through the small talk.

  “Well, hello to you, too. Glad to hear you’re still kicking. I’m assuming your mission was a success?”

  “Right. Yeah. So, what stuff?”

  “Did you skip your coffee again? I know how you Yanks are about coffee.”

  “Liam…,” I growled. I didn’t have patience for his shit today.

  “Jackson gave me a ring yesterday.”

  “And?” Liam was a friend and a good one, but his games wore on my patience.

  “He packed all your team’s vehicles up, stuff from your cabins, everything. Filled three shipping containers and they’re on their way to London as we speak.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Gritting my teeth, I tamped down my emotions and tried to find the right words.

  “Okay. See you in London. I’ll text you our arrival time when I know,” I told him. His sigh was loud in my ear. The connection was failing, crackling and static filling the background. “And Liam?”

  “Yeah, Luv?”

  “Thanks.” I hung up before he had a chance to respond.

  Jackson had done this? I tried to hold onto my anger at him. The betrayal had cut so deep; I was bleeding inside from it. Then he comes along and puts a compression bandage on it, staunching the flow of hurt and rage.

  Did this make up for any of it? I thought to myself. Maybe a little, but Phillips was gone—a good man was dead. Young men had been sacrificing their lives on the pyre of their country’s greed for eons; time had not changed that. Was Phillips any different? Just because he was my teammate and friend? Did it make it worse in the grand scheme of things?

  Yes. Yes it did. I hardened my resolve once more. Packing up our vehicles and belongings only scratched the surface of the penance Jackson must do.

  “Hey, what are you doing out here? It’s fucking cold. Come back inside.” Jordon slipped his arm around my shoulders, as was becoming his habit.

  “Thinking. And talking to Liam.”

  “What did he have to say?”

  “Jackson called him.” I felt Jordon’s body tense at the mention of our former Master Sergeant. “He packed all our stuff up; cars, everything, in some shipping containers and it’s all on the way to London.”

  “Really? Fucking sweet of him to do that.”

  I chuckled. “Very. I’m sure Aunt Beatrice had a hand in it.”

  “So, we have our stuff—or will soon, what now?”

  “London. Then… I’m not sure.” I turned and wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking my head under his chin. It was my new favorite place to be. Cupping my chin in his palm, he brought my face up to his. His lips turned up into a soft, sort of sad, smile.

  I kissed him, wanting to chase the sorrow from his eyes. It felt like it had been ages since we’d been able to have a moment together. His mouth angled over mine, his tongue probing the seam of my lips. We both groaned as the kiss deepened. His hands roamed from my waist—one going high and the other low.

  Releasing my lips, Jordon rested his forehead on mine. “There’s something about me you don’t know. I’d like to tell you.”

  I swallowed a lump of fear. “Okay, Chris. I’m listening.”

  “Let’s go inside—this will take a bit to explain.”

  Taking me by the hand, Jordon pulled me through the food-ladened kitchen where the others were still stuffing their faces.

  Flynn wiped his mouth, making no attempt to hide his delight. “Hey, have fun you two! These walls are thin, though, so keep it down will ya? None of us are getting any and we don’t wanna hear you two fucking around.”

  “You’re just jealous, fuckwad.” Jordon gave him the finger and headed for the steps.

  “He got you there, dude. Blue balls suck, huh?” Pierce laughed and the rest of his steady stream of bullshit faded as we entered our room and shut the door.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing my palms on my thighs. Jordon took a seat next to me and propped his elbows on his jumping knees. The whole mattress was shaking with his movements. “I’m not sure where to start. I’ve never told anyone this before.”

  “Just spit it out.” My fear and impatience were showing as they always did—with an attitude.

  Lifting his ass-cheek, Jordon pulled out his wallet. Flipping the worn leather open, he slipped out a well-worn photo and handed it to me. “This is the whole reason I joined the Army.”

  It was a picture of a young man, who looked remarkably like Jordon, kneeling on the grass next to his football helmet, sporting a huge grin and familiar dimples. “I don’t understand. You have a brother?”

  “Had.”

  My heart sank at his words. “Tell me.”

  My voice was soft with sympathy. I gripped his hand in mine and quietly
listened.

  “Mattey was the golden-boy—could never do anything wrong. Smart and kind. Good at everything he put his mind to. This is the last photo of him ever taken and to the best of my knowledge, the last surviving one also.” Jordon traced his finger down the grinning face of his brother. A sad, regretful smile twisted his lips.

  “This was taken at homecoming—he was the star quarterback and crowned king, of course.” Jordon chuckled in memory. “There was a party that night and that’s when everything changed. He got drunk and proceeded to destroy his future with a little syringe full of poison.” Jordon stood, going to the window and pulling back the drapes staring at the glistening snow. “It’s always been strange to me that something so small can cause such lasting damage. Not just to the user, but to his family.”

  “Chris…” I began, but he cut me off with a slash of his hand.

  “Let me finish or I’ll never get it out.” His shoulders slumped as he continued his story. “He was hooked, right away. Soon, he was stealing and lying. Doing anything and everything he could to get his next fix. He blew his scholarship—his future was gone. Before long, he was a skeleton of his former self. Covered in sores. My parents threw him out, too ashamed of his addiction to get him help. As for me…” he shrugged, “I was pissed too. The night he died I was losing my virginity. He was gunned down in some back alley over a debt he owed a dealer and I was off having a great time. My brother was killed and no one knew for days. I hate myself for it, for not feeling it the moment he died, as stupid as that sounds. Then that was the end of it; my parents refused to speak of him. It was like he never existed. They destroyed all his photos, threw his whole life in the trash. I joined the Army and decided I was going to do everything in my power to keep that poison from ruining another family.”

  I went to his side and wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking my face between his shoulder blades. He was shaking, and a hot splash on my hand told me why.

  My Chris, my love, was crying. My heart broke for him and I did the only thing I knew.

  I turned him to face me, thumbing away his tears. “Thank you for sharing Mattey with me. I know the pain of loss and the anger it brings. Your brother would be proud of the man you are today. I know I am. I’m honored to be part of your life, to be the woman at your side. You make me want things I never thought I would. You’ve changed me. What you’ve gone through with your brother has made you who you are today. And I love you just the way you are, scars and all.”