Terminate

by Natasha Deen

  Of course, if I was a good girl, I would pass the information on to the cops and let them do their thing. Lucky for me, I’m not a good girl. Besides, the cops aren’t my friends.

  I stopped in at a brightly lit chain restaurant to get some food. No point wading into hell on an empty stomach. I ordered a loaded burger, fries and a drink. Took my time eating it, both to give myself a break and to give myself time to think. By the time dessert arrived, I knew what I needed to do.

  I called Bentley and told him my plan.

  He was not happy, but there was no arguing with me.

  “Jace isn’t around, is he?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Good. Then I need you to grab some of his clothes. I have to look the part—like a rich guy with nothing better to do. I’ll bring his stuff back as soon as I’m done.”

  “This is a bad idea,” said Bentley. “I don’t think you should do it alone.”

  “I won’t be alone. You’ll be with me via the earpiece you’re going to lend me.”

  That got two seconds of silence. “It’s still dangerous. I can’t do anything if you’re miles away and under attack.”

  “You couldn’t do anything if you were right beside me,” I said softly. “These guys carry more than money and keys in their jeans. They’re going to have guns and knives.”

  “I’m sorry—is that supposed to make me want to help you or agree to let you go in there?”

  “What if I said pretty please and took you out for ice cream?” I asked.

  Ignoring me, he said, “Jace’s clothes will be too big. Way too long and too wide.”

  “I can make it work. Trust me.”

  He sighed. “You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? It won’t matter whether I help or not.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “but I’d love your help. Dynamic duo and all that.”

  Bentley was silent.

  “Come on, Bentley-Bear,” I said. “I can’t do it without you.”

  “Fine.” He sighed. “But nix that nickname. I don’t think it suits me.”

  “Bentley-Boo?”

  He hung up.

  I left the waitress a 20 percent tip for not mentioning the layer of street perfume I’d brought back with me. Then I was back in the car on my way to Bentley’s house, the moonlight getting brighter. Too soon, given how much I was enjoying the sound of rubber on asphalt, I pulled the vehicle into the driveway and approached the massive glass-and-wrought-iron double doors that served as the front entrance of the house.

  Bentley opened the door before I could ring the bell. “We’ve got a problem,” he said.

  “The clothes?”

  Before he could answer, the door opened all the way. Jace. He looked tired, haunted, but now wasn’t the time to worry about him.

  “No, not the clothes,” Jace said. “Your problem is with me.”

  “Thanks, Sherlock, but I already made that deduction a long time ago.” I pushed past the guys and stepped into the marble entryway. Turning to them, I said, “Just how are you looking to be yet another pain in my—”

  “You’re going to an underground fight club,” said Jace.

  “You told him?” I turned an accusing glare to Bentley.

  The hacker blushed. “I didn’t think he’d pull a hissy fit.”

  “Of course he would. When he’s not brooding or wandering the streets, he’s channeling his inner diva. How did it not occur to you that he’d pull a hissy fit?”

  “He”—Jace spoke slowly—“is right here.”

  I ignored him and kept talking to Bentley. “He’s like a combination of mother bear and headless chicken—”

  “Hey!” Jace lifted his hands in a what the hell? gesture.

  “I know,” said Bentley, “but I thought things had changed.”

  “With him?” I asked, jerking my thumb in Jace’s direction.

  “Him is still here and getting more pissed off by the minute,” said Jace.

  “See?” I said. “Brooding diva.”

  The muscles of Jace’s jaw rippled. “I. Am. Right. Here.”

  “I know,” I said, “but we’re trying not to let that ruin our evening.”

  “This plan won’t work.” Jace spoke like it was the end of the conversation.

  “Of course it will!” I said.

  Jace gave me a long look.

  “I’m great at makeup and disguise, and Bentley’s a superhero with technology. Trust me, this will work. All I have to do is get in there. Bentley’s lending me glasses with a built-in camera and an earpiece. I can document everything, get out and pass the information to Raven. Her boyfriend’s the son of a cop. He’ll make sure the evidence gets into the right hands.”

  Jace kept staring.

  “Usually I’m all for the silent glares, but I’ve got to get going. Either use your words or go brood somewhere else.”

  “Don’t try to fool me,” he said. “You’re not going there to help those kids. You’re going there to find Amanda. The kids are just an added bonus.”

  Seriously. Why was he ragging on me? “So?”

  “So you’re going to do something stupid,” he said. “You’ll see her, your emotions will take over, and you’ll go all Hulk meets the Punisher.”

  “My emotions will take over?” Forget the fight club happening later—there was about to be a fight right now. And I was going to win. “Why? Because I’m a girl?”

  He gave me a soft smile. “No, Jo, because we’re alike. You told me once that Amanda was the one you watched over, just like I watch over Bentley. I would lose my mind if I saw him in pain and thought I could help.”

  Crap. Those words were a perfect combo for a TKO on my anger. “I can’t argue that. For the record”—I glanced over at Bentley—“if anyone ever hurt you, I would definitely lose my mind.”

  Bentley rolled his eyes. “You both already proved that, okay? I’m going all squishy with the frickin’ touchy-feely emotions, but we’ve got a job to do.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “My brother’s right. This is too dangerous for you to do alone.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he was still talking.

  “And Jace, Jo is right,” he continued. “She has to go in there.”

  Again, the muscles of Jace’s jaw rippled.

  “I know how to solve this,” Bentley continued. “Go together.”

  “Great idea,” said Jace.

  “Bad idea.” I shook my head. “Very, very bad idea.” I had enough to worry about with my own safety. Now I was supposed to look after a trust-fund kid?

  “Bentley, I’ll see you around 2 AM,” said Jace. “Maybe later. If I’m not back by four, pull up the tracker.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I held up my hands. “Who said you were going with me? I didn’t agree to that.”

  “No,” Jace said, “but you agreed to let Bentley help. And we both know how smart he is. So if it’s an idea he came up with, it must be a good one.” He gave me a victorious look.

  Crap. He had me.

  Jace strode to the curved staircase and grabbed his leather jacket off the banister. “I’ll be the voice of reason.”

  We stared at each other.

  “Yeah,” Jace said with a smile. “That’s freaky for me too.”

  “You’ll stay in the car?” I asked.

  “Nice try. I’ll be right beside you.”

  “Making sure I don’t do anything stupid,” I said.

  “It’s a big job,” he said, “but, luckily, I had lots of protein today.”

  I surrendered. “Okay.”

  He gave me a critical look. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

  I looked down at my dark jeggings, black shirt and boots. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “To this kind of place? You’re not dressed up enough,” he said. “Bentley, grab something from Mother’s closet.”

  “I’m not wearing fur,” I called after Bentley as he headed up the stairs.

  “You won’t have to,” said Jace
. “That’s for the girls in the inner circle.”

  Since when did he know so much about illegal fights? I didn’t bother to argue.

  Jace looked down at me. “But if you feel the need to drape the carcass of a dead animal around your shoulders—”

  “You’ll volunteer your hide?” I asked.

  “Ouch.” He put his hand to his heart. “And I was going to take you for some ice cream before we went on our date.”

  Great. A long car ride with Jace the Sarcastic. This night just couldn’t get any better.

  EIGHT

  The fight was an hour’s drive away. No abandoned warehouse this time. We were headed into the woods.

  “You okay?” I asked Jace.

  “That’s a big question.”

  “You seem unusually quiet, even for you.”

  Jace smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’ve got everything—cars, houses, clothes…kids would kill to be me.”

  I knew better than to push for information, so I settled back and waited.

  After a minute, Jace continued. “What would you do if you found out something about yourself? Something that could destroy everything and everyone around you?”

  I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Buddy, we’re here for you. It’s okay to admit you like boy bands.”

  He laughed. “Jo, I’m being serious.”

  “How much destruction’s involved?” I let go of his fingers.

  “It could hurt Bentley,” he said, and I heard the pain in his voice. “Really hurt him.”

  “Does he deserve to know the truth?” I asked.

  “Yes, but it’s more than just my family and the team. There are other people involved, and they could also get hurt.”

  “Truth is truth,” I told him, “and nothing built on a lie ever stands. I promise, Jace, I’ll be there for you, and I’ll help any way I can.”

  He nodded. “I have to think about it a little longer. As soon as I have a plan, I’ll call you in.” He reached over and tuned the satellite radio to a boy-band station, just to tweak me.

  I left it there to tweak him back.

  GPS coordinates took us past Coquitlam and onto unpaved trails to a field littered with floodlights, white tents and vehicles.

  “Smart. Cops can’t track them in a field, there’s no cell service, and the gang can change location anytime they want.” Jace parked his BMW, then put his hand over mine as I went to unlock my seat belt.

  “First, my rules,” he said.

  “I brought you on board—”

  “Look around.” He squeezed my hand as he spoke. “This place is crawling with drugs, violence, testosterone, and it’s all about men punching the crap out of other men.” Jace smiled, but again with no joy. “I’m an expert at three out of those four things. This is dangerous for me, but it’s fatal for you. This isn’t the place to channel your inner ninja or Charlie’s Angels. For the next hour, you’re mine.”

  “But—”

  He turned the engine back on. “My rules or we leave now, and you never find Amanda.”

  Seriously. Like I hadn’t ever had to live by my wits.

  “I’m asking you to do this to keep both of us safe. Can you do that?” He grinned. “Can you dial back your usual kick-ass style and channel it in another way and protect me?”

  I laughed despite myself. “How can I say no to that pitch?”

  “Good.” He stepped out of the car.

  I unbuckled my seat belt and stepped onto the grass.

  “For tonight, we’re dating in the way these idiots see a relationship.” Jace came around the Beamer and draped his arm around me. “Don’t talk back to me. In fact, don’t talk.” He pulled me close. “If anything goes wrong, there’s a knife in my jacket pocket.”

  “If anything goes wrong, there’s one in my sock.”

  He grinned. “No wonder I’m dating you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Take us in, Romeo.”

  “Which tent do you figure?”

  I took in the scenery. Smaller tents were scattered in a half circle around a large black tent. “The bigger tent. Looks like the smaller ones are for other things.”

  We walked toward the main entrance, which was guarded by a beefy guy with sunglasses.

  Jace nodded at him.

  I did my best to look brainless and awed at the same time, which was a lot harder than it seemed.

  “You got the entrance fee?” asked the bouncer.

  To add to my pretend airhead act, I threaded my arm through Jace’s, pressing myself close like I was impressed by the wads of cash he was taking from his pocket.

  Jace handed the bouncer several large bills. His grip on me tightened, and he walked us through the door. The smell of blood, tobacco and sweat filled the space.

  I started scanning the crowd, then stopped when Jace gave me a sharp but subtle elbow to the ribs.

  “If you’re going to do that,” he said in my ear, “try to look more curious and less like a cop searching for a perp.” He paused. “Do you have a photo of Amanda? Text it to me.”

  All the bodies had jacked up the heat, and I could barely hear Jace for all the screaming. I shook my head. “I don’t have one. Wasn’t much for keeping visual records of the people close to me. You know, in case she”—I didn’t want to use Meena’s name—“ever caught me.”

  “Good point.”

  “Amanda’s tall, thin. Long blond hair, blue eyes.”

  He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward the crowd. “Half the women here fit that description.”

  I shrugged. “I can draw you a picture.”

  “No time for that. Point her out if you see her.”

  The tent continued to fill. After a bit, a guy who had spent too much time in a tanning bed stepped into the middle of the dirt-floor ring. Welcomed the crowd. Reminded them bets were final. He then announced the warm-up event—two girls. Neither of them was Amanda.

  I didn’t want to watch their bare-knuckle fighting, but if I didn’t, it would give us away. So I forced myself to cheer and holler, call for blood, as the girls were forced to bash each other for the crowd’s entertainment. When it was done and the smaller girl had fallen, a couple of mouth-breathers dragged her away. The other girl got to do a victory lap while some of the crowd tossed money at her. When she walked out of the ring, a couple more mouth-breathers ran to collect the cash. She’d never see the winnings. All the money would go to the gang. She was lucky they were feeding her.

  The announcer stepped back into the ring, announced another fight. This time with two guys. If I’d thought the girls’ fight was brutal, this was a level of cruelty I hadn’t envisioned. No rules. No timeouts. No mercy. The weaker fighter went down in a cloud of dirt and blood.

  “Terminate!”

  “Terminate!”

  Beside me, Jace froze. I did too.

  The announcer walked into the center of the ring. “You heard the crowd. Do it.”

  Jace reached out and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back until I thought I’d break his bones. He pulled me close. Pressed his face into mine. To anyone watching, it would look like we were getting hot and bothered by the blood lust. But it wasn’t about boy-girl stuff.

  “Be strong,” he said in my ear.

  “You too.”

  We pulled away and forced ourselves to watch what was about to happen.

  The winning fighter went over to the fallen man as the crowd surged to its feet.

  We did too, because it would have looked weird if we didn’t. The people in front of me blocked my view of the ring. Which meant I didn’t have to see what happened next. I’d been in flophouses when kids had OD’d, had flipped open the covers of cardboard boxes and found the icy surprise of dead eyes. Exposure hadn’t taken away the horror. And being forced to cheer and holler when I wanted to save the fighter was a special kind of torture.

  A final blow drew the shrieks and screams of the mob and brought me back to reality.

&n
bsp; I whooped and clapped and saw the winner head out of the ring. No victory lap. He just left the ring, not looking up.

  The mouth-breathers dragged the body away with all the ceremony of garbagemen hauling out the trash.

  Until now I’d thought the kids had died by accident. I hadn’t realized they were being forced to kill each other.

  “This is new,” I said to Jace. I didn’t need to say any more. The stakes had been raised for both the gangs and for us. They’d have to find fresh meat. We’d be dealing with more bodies. Jace and I exchanged a long look. The operation had just escalated from dangerous to deadly.

  NINE

  There was a break in the fight lineup to give people a chance to place more bets or collect their winnings. Jace and I wandered the perimeter, taking note of the security—a knuckle-dragger stationed every twenty feet, with sunglasses, dark blazer and a bulge that could only be a gun. I also took note of the number of exits and weak points. As I was scanning the crowd, checking to see how many of them were carrying weapons, I caught a flash of blond hair and the distinctive movement of my friend.

  Amanda.

  When she was a kid, her father had come home after one too many at the bar and tripped over a toy she’d left in the hallway. The aftermath of his discipline had left her with a limp. Tonight her limp was more pronounced, and her right hand was bandaged at the wrist. Fight injury. So much for her savior taking her away from a life on the streets.

  He was a caveman, beating his chest and dragging her back to the Stone Age, and he swaggered ahead of her. Oil-slicked hair, fluorescent white teeth. And a gym-toned body. He fit the description I’d gotten on the street.

  Amanda walked in his shadow, a couple of steps behind. Head down. No eye contact. Whatever this guy had done to her, breaking her will had been top of the list.

  I nudged Jace and nodded in Amanda’s direction. He squinted at the guy with her, then opened his mouth, but I didn’t need him to tell me the obvious. This guy was the boss. It was apparent from the way he walked and scanned the crowd, and the way everyone deferred to him.

  And that meant we’d have to leave Amanda. If we tried to take her now, we’d be swarmed. That wouldn’t be just totally stupid. It would be certain death.