Gilded Cage (Harbour Bay Book 6)

by Camille Taylor

  She had to be strong, for Monica’s sake. She cried out again for the girl.

  “Hello?” A scared voice of a child called out. “Is someone there? Please help me.”

  Bethany hurried towards the voice. “I’m coming, sweetheart.” She quickly found the door which held Monica prisoner and after several whacks of the gun had the doorknob hanging precariously out of its socket.

  “Stand back, Monica.” After waiting the appropriate time for Monica to move back, she sent a swift kick at the door. Pain reverberated up her leg but she made no dent in the door. She frowned and hoped that this form of opening a door wasn’t purely ‘movie magic’. She tried once more, stifling a curse when it didn’t budge. She didn’t want to scare Monica more by having her believe her savour was less than promised. Bethany gave up kicking. Obviously, there wasn’t enough muscle behind the kick, she decided and moved to the end of the hall. Gritting her teeth at the pain she knew would come and praying that this will work she ran towards the door, picking up speed as she angled herself just right. She hit the door with her shoulder, stumbling as it gave under the bulk of her body and landed on her knees.

  Monica almost bowled her over with her weight as she ran into her, wrapping her small arms around Beth’s neck. Bethany hugged her back, giving the child comfort. She knew more than anyone what it was like to be taken from the people who love you, wondering if you would live to see them again. She could imagine what had gone on through Monica’s mind during these few hours.

  Monica held onto her tightly, surprising Beth with her strength. Her small body was filled with tension and Bethany ached to make things right. More than anything she wanted to turn back the clock and spare Monica the gruelling experience.

  “Everything is going to be okay now. You’re safe.”

  Monica nodded, tears rolled down her pudgy child cheeks. She shivered and Beth realised the poor girl was wearing nothing but her pyjamas. She didn’t even have a pair of socks covering her feet, protecting her from the cold floor. Bethany wished she could give the girl something but she was similarly dressed, still wearing the same long-sleeved shirt and pants from earlier.

  She stood but kept Monica close, taking her small hand and leading her back to Hunter’s office. As they neared, she felt Monica shudder. She squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. We won’t be long.”

  Bethany led Monica back to Declan, making a wide detour around Hunter. She released the girl’s hand to tend to Declan. He wasn’t any worse than when she saw him last thankfully and she wondered how long ago that had been. Breaking down the door hadn’t been an easy task, add that to the time it had taken to locate Monica and bring her back she was looking at more than five minutes but no more than ten.

  A shadow fell over her. Bethany turned to see Hunter, blood dribbling down from the top of his head. Monica let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped to a ball on the ground. Without thinking, without feeling, Bethany raised the Glock and without hesitation, squeezed the trigger. Her first shot went wild as he charged towards them, but her second hit him square in the chest, the second in his shoulder, the third finished the job, ripping a hole through his head. Bethany was surprised at the power of the gun, the feeling of the bullet exiting the chamber and appreciated Declan’s training. Everything he’d shown her had helped save her life tonight.

  “Declan, Declan?” She wanted to get the hell out of the house. When he made no sign of hearing her she shook him, her patience long gone. She could already feel herself crumbling under pressure.

  His eyes flicked open and were glazed with pain.

  She let out a sob. “We have to get out of here. Can you move? I need help. You’re too heavy for me without assistance.”

  “I can help.” Monica’s soft voice beside her startled her and her attention snapped to the twelve-year-old girl.

  Beth was sorry to say she had completely forgotten about little Monica. The events of the past few minutes had shaken her more than she’d like to admit. As much as she hated Hunter and wanted him dead, Bethany had never really thought she would be the one to kill him. Bethany shuddered with the memory—one she knew would be with her a long time, just as Jesse’s and Ashley’s last night alive would be.

  Bethany forced herself to smile at Monica before cutting back to Declan who was trying to move, his movements slow and uncoordinated. He looked drunk. His skin was deathly pale, almost translucent.

  Putting his arm over her shoulder, she slipped her own around his waist. Monica, insisting on helping, did the same on the other side of him. His big hand swamped her tiny shoulder. Together they got him to his feet—no easy feat—and she was puffing by the time they were done.

  Declan looked down at the bloody corpse of Isaac Hunter and raised an eyebrow. “Did you do that?”

  Bethany didn’t spare Hunter a look, she stared right into Declan’s eyes. “You said if I was going to hold a gun, I should have the guts to use it.”

  He smiled. “Good girl.”

  Of all the things to be proud of her for doing this was the strangest and one she hoped never to repeat.

  “We better get you to the hospital.”

  “I think so. I’m kind of bleeding all over the place.”

  Monica sniffled loudly. “I’m so sorry.”

  She and Declan looked at her in surprise.

  Bethany’s heart broke. “This isn’t your fault, sweetheart. None of this is your fault, okay?”

  Monica nodded but hardly looked convinced. Damn Hunter. Damn Jackson for what they had put this child through—what she had put this child through, thinking about how Monica had witnessed her shoot Hunter to death.

  Bethany held her tears in check. She was the only functioning adult at the moment. She had to hold it together just a little while longer. Just long enough to get Declan to a doctor.

  They took a step together, Bethany forcing them to go slower than she liked. But the last thing she wanted was to tear his wounds and make him bleed faster. Most had already clotted and she wanted to keep it that way.

  They finally reached the car and Declan pretty much collapsed onto the back seat, already unconscious, having expelled the last of his energy. Fear gripped Bethany hard as she asked—demanded—Monica to sit in the back with him and press down on some of the leaking wounds. Pressure was good. Monica didn’t argue and did as she was asked.

  Bethany hopped behind the wheel. The engine growled to life. She drove as fast as she could without endangering them or anyone else stupid enough to be out on the road at this hour.

  Neither she nor Monica spoke. Bethany’s thoughts revolved around Declan. Would she get him to help in time? She could only imagine the looks she would get from his family when she told them he’d been hurt protecting her.

  Bethany had never felt more depressed in her entire life. She had liked Declan’s family even if they hadn’t liked her. Her gaze fell on the rear-view mirror and for a heart-stopping second, his chest didn’t move and she believed she’d lost him. He dragged in a wheezy breath, one that said while he may still be alive, he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  A hot tear rolled down her cheek. Blinking, she refused to let them compromise her vision. She refocused on the road.

  Chapter 46

  Cade Watson never looked less like a cop than he did now. Dressed in work boots and dock uniform, his perpetual baby face red from the biting cold coming off the harbour water. He went about the daily chores the dock hands completed like pros. The Terminal was once again bustling with activity.

  Beneath his thick winter reflective jacket, his bulletproof vest hugged his body as he waited for Hunter’s men to make their move. He kept his eyes on his task, only allowing his mind to wander to the fact that he was not alone. Surrounding the Terminal and dock were the members of the DU—Murphy and Matthews. They were joined by the Tactical Operations Unit. All they had to do wait. They didn’t have to wait for long.

  Cade heard the distinctive click of the safety being released behind him b
efore he felt the nudging of a gun barrel being pressed into his back.

  “Don’t fucking move or make a sound.”

  Cade raised his arms slowly in a ‘surrender’ pose at the harsh command.

  “What do you want?”

  “I just want my boss’s property. You’re going to get it for me. Order one of your men to the holding yard.”

  “I don’t think so.” He moved his body back into the man behind him. He whipped his body around and quickly took charge, disarming the man in a matter of seconds. He pushed the man to the wet ground and kneeled on his back. He cuffed his capture.

  “Don’t fucking move.” Cade spoke softly into the night, knowing his voice would travel through his earpiece to his team. “Phase one complete. Proceed. Watson out.”

  A moment later all hell broke loose as the DU and TOU moved in. Weapons were fired, echoing through the Terminal as the dock workers hit the ground. The situation was controlled less than twenty minutes later. All fifteen of Hunter’s men were kneeling with their hands behind their heads. Cade noticed a few of them were bleeding but nothing which would warrant an ambulance.

  Dean’s gaze followed Hunter’s men being led away as he stopped beside him. “This should make the boss happy.”

  “Not every day we take down a crime syndicate.” Cade rubbed the back of his neck. “It makes you feel damn good.”

  He was riding an adrenaline high. This was the reason he became a cop. This was why he put up with the endless paperwork and stood around the dock at three in the morning while it was minus three. This was completely worth all that crap. He smiled recklessly now that the danger was over.

  “I could certainly get used to this.”

  Dean snorted. “Join Tactical. They do this shit every day. We just want to get home to our wives and daughters.” He frowned. “Anyone heard how O’Neill is doing?”

  Several Tactical officers shook their heads.

  Matt joined them. “We’ll head on over as soon as the wagon arrives. You did good, Watson.”

  Matt was the one that had come up with the idea that he poses as a dock worker. Apparently, he looked so damn innocent and disarming Hunter’s men would take the bait and try to get him to do their bidding. Of course, it appeared he was right.

  Chapter 47

  Bethany hugged herself as she sat in the uncomfortable waiting chair at Harbour Bay Base Hospital. Her nerves were frayed and she was beyond scared worrying about Declan, waiting for news—any news regarding his health.

  James Hawke paced back and forth nearby, he had yet to put his phone down since meeting her in the ER. She knew he was coordinating with the rest of his team. Jackson and his cohorts had been removed from her house and she’d overheard him saying someone named Stone was going to collect Hunter and take him back to the LAC. There was also Hunter’s plan for his remaining men to storm the Terminal.

  During a brief moment while Declan had still been conscious he had quickly given the cliff notes version of his conversation with Hunter before conking out for the last time. She had relayed that information to James when she had rung his number like Declan told her to and explained about Declan’s condition.

  The first twenty minutes had been torture as she and Monica had sat alone in the waiting room, cold and tired. Monica had snuggled up to Bethany while they had waited for Greta, who had come to return the girl back to her parents after the doctor had checked her out and declared her unharmed. Physically yes, but emotionally, who knew?

  It had been fifteen years and Bethany still hadn’t really recovered from her ordeal. The memories were still as fresh today as they had back then. But at least Monica had two loving, devoted parents—not to mention aunt—looking out for her. At least Monica wouldn’t be torn away from the only life she had ever known and made to live one that relied completely on security measures and bodyguards who meant well, but always stifled her.

  She had killed a man tonight. Bethany hadn’t spared one thought about Hunter until now. She had been too worried about Declan and Monica to dwell on that fact. When she examined her feelings, she found she wasn’t upset. She had done what needed to be done. It had been a clear case of her or him. He’d hurt Declan and that was justification enough for her. Would she ever feel sad or guilty about it? She seriously doubted it. Hunter had deserved it and he certainly had it coming.

  Hunter had set Jackson on her. Jackson had killed Ashley and Jesse and kidnapped Monica. Case closed.

  Another thirty minutes later, she was teetering on the edge. She kept looking down at her hands—spotted red from Declan’s blood. She’d been unable to move from her seat to wash it off in case a doctor came by with an update—and barely restrained from sobbing.

  What if Declan died?

  No, she couldn’t allow herself to think like that. Wasn’t there such a thing as the power of positive thinking? If so, he would survive on her will alone.

  She shivered and huddled further under James’s heavy jacket he had been kind enough to lend her, but even the coat wasn’t much protection against the chill. She was still only wearing her pyjama pants and long-sleeved shirt beneath it, having only returned to the house briefly to put a pair of shoes on and grab the keys to the Aurion before following Declan.

  But even that had cost Declan dearly. If only she had made him stay, made him wait for back-up. For the second time in as few as three months, Declan was back in hospital, injured. Bethany would never forgive herself. If there had been the slightest chance he would’ve been allowed back on duty he had been robbed of it now—because of her. His life certainly hadn’t been enriched since he had met her. She had stupidly wanted him to stay with her, to love her, but she may have very well cost him his life. Bethany was sure he wouldn’t thank her.

  She was useless. She had always vehemently denied it but it was true. The truth was right before her eyes. She was nothing but trouble, poison to those dear and near to her. Her mother, Jesse, Ashley, and now Declan. The list was long and frightening.

  Her stomach twisted and bile rose in her throat.

  High heels clattering against the floor had Bethany’s attention. She froze as she recognised the red-head coming towards her. James must’ve called Riley. She certainly hadn’t been interested in making the call. She realised then it had been a mistake. She shouldn’t even be there. Bethany decided she would take whatever Riley handed out to her. If she kicked her out of the hospital she would go because she deserved nothing more.

  Bethany grimaced at the fierce yet worried look on Declan’s sister’s face. Her worry couldn’t be good for the baby. Bethany mentally added another causality to the ever-growing list in her head.

  Riley sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. Beth flinched, thinking Riley had been about to strike her.

  “How is he?”

  Bethany tensed beneath the hug, unsure of what to make of it, waiting for the other shoe to drop—the other stiletto shoe. She knew how deadly Riley could be with one of those.

  She shook with fear and worry. “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything.” Her voice quivered shamelessly.

  “I’ll fix that.” Nick slipped from behind his wife, she hadn’t noticed him before he spoke, and purposely moved off towards the nurses’ station to question the first available hospital employee.

  “How are you?” Riley squeezed her hand.

  “Fine.”

  “Honey, you look like you’ve gone a couple rounds with a truck.”

  She slammed her eyes shut, wanting to hide from the world. “I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.”

  It was Declan who wouldn’t. Bethany tried to extract her hand from Riley’s gasp, not wanting the kindness she was giving her. Riley’s only response was to tighten her hold. For a pint-sized woman, she could be extremely strong.

  James finally tucked his phone into his pants pocket and joined them. “That was Murphy. He, Matthews and Watson were able to stop the siege on the Terminal. Every last one of Hunter’s men have been
captured and the container is safe.”

  So, all in all, it had been a very productive night and quite the coup for Harbour Bay Police as they took down yet another crime syndicate. The only thing that hadn’t gone right that night was Declan. She tried again to remove herself from Riley’s grasp. Riley glared at her and only shifted closer, providing Bethany with her warmth.

  She wet her lips. “Do they have any idea what’s in the container?”

  “Pseudoephedrine. Border Patrol are having a hell of a time trying to keep that shit from landing on our soil. Hunter must’ve been planning on drowning Harbour Bay in methamphetamine…otherwise known as Ice.”

  Beth shivered.

  And her father had been helping him. Whether he knew it or not, he was complicit.

  James planted his hands on his hips. “There’s more. Hunter’s place is being ripped apart. They found hundreds of files on people. Including one on your father and another on Copeland and several others. By the look of things, it seems Hunter was planning on blackmailing high officials to gain money, power, and backing to take over Coleani’s empire.”

  Declan had been badly hurt for nothing more than one man’s egomania. She’d never hated her father as much as she did that very moment. But still, it wasn’t any more than she hated herself.

  She leapt to her feet when Rose approached. “How is he?”

  Rose squeezed her hand. Her heart seized and knees gave out. A sob escaped her mouth before she could stop it as her world crashed around her. Darkness ebbed at the edge of her vision and for a moment she considered letting it take her. Then Rose’s words penetrated her distress.

  “He’ll be fine, Beth. He’s been stitched up and we’ve pumped some blood into him. Luckily, the wounds weren’t deep enough to nick arteries or endanger organs. But we’re keeping him under observation for tonight.”