An Embarrassment of Monsters: A Dark Romantic Suspense Novel (Alace Sweets Book 3)

by MariaLisa deMora

  Owen’s thoughts swirled at the information Kelly had divulged. Owen set his concerns aside for now. Regardless of the source of her injuries, this part of the story was about Kelly. I can’t help her until I find her. “Remote? What was that for?”

  Kelly angled his chin to the side, and Owen saw two marks on his neck. “For the collars. It’s how he kept us at the cabin.”

  “Jesus.” He jerked his gaze from the boy and stared at the flames dancing in front of him, forcing himself to stay seated. So many kids kept as part of a pack mixed with dogs, forced to sleep outside, fighting each other for survival, dehumanized in every way, and controlled by painful shock collars. “I have a friend who can help. I’m going to call her now. I don’t want to tell her about you yet, so I’ll need you to be very quiet while I’m on the call with her. Then we’ll get out of these woods and head to my house. I’ll keep you safe, Kelly. I promise you. And I’m going to find Shiloh.”

  He looked up, staring at the boy. Kelly’s expression was open and pleading, the anguish he was enduring at being separated from his sister there for anyone to see.

  “I promise.”

  Keeping his breathing steady on the call was no small feat, but Owen managed it. Hearing Alace say they had everything they needed to find out who’d bought Kelly and his sister firmed his resolve. We can do this.

  “What’s your source?” Alace’s question was expected, standard even, and Owen found it difficult to not simply tell Alace about Kelly. Something had him holding back, though, and he tried not to question his gut reaction.

  “A contact reached out. I’m not too far from the trailhead”—more like under an hour, which she would know if she mapped the Wi-Fi hot spot—“and wanted to get things rolling before I hit the road.” Alace’s expression sharpened, her gaze flicking to the camera and then away to whatever files she was manipulating. “I’m going to have to go home and take care of something before I can be the boots on the ground, but the more data we have and can dig through, the better it’ll be.”

  “Urgency? Other than wanting to get these kids out of these bastards’ hands?” Alace’s gaze flicked back to the camera. “What’s up with the earbuds?”

  “Habit to have you in my head.” Owen let his brief smile fade, knowing it appeared strained. “Pretty fuckin’ urgent, boss lady. I know of one sibling pair sold, a brother and sister. I want their buyer first, but then I’m going to want to deal with the rest of the buyers. I have to get these kids back to their families.” Kelly shifted uncomfortably, drawing the sleeping bag back up over his shoulders, head ducking down to rest his forehead on his bent knees. Shit. His posture said it all. The kid doesn’t have a family to go home to. Even when Owen rescued Shiloh, the two of them would be back in foster care, something that had obviously failed them miserably. “This pair, the info indicates they may have been surrendered to the ring via CPS, boss lady. If we have source info for the kids, that would be a secondary priority.”

  “I saw data about the origin of most kids, so we likely have what we need.” Alace sat back in her chair, and Owen watched as her eyes moved rapidly side to side. She was reading whatever she’d surfaced on her screens. “Want me to share this on the tablet or wait until you’re home and at your regular setup?”

  “Wait until I’m home. I’ll bug out of here soon as we finish talking and then let you know when I walk in the door.”

  “I’ll know when you walk in the door.” Alace’s head tipped to the side, and one corner of her lips quirked upwards. “You know I’ve got security feeds from your place.”

  Maybe I should tell her now. He inclined his head, acknowledging what she’d said. “That you do. Has there been any blowback or chatter about the organic material the fire left behind?” She shook her head deliberately, hair moving slowly as her eyes stayed fixed on his through the video. Shit. She knows something. He tried to pass off the fact he’d low-keyed the dead bodies he’d torched after the last mission. “Good news then. It could be that the next one will go as fast and easy.”

  “Did you find what you wanted when you went to the woods, Owen?” She knew how much he’d needed the quiet of the empty forest to clear his head. The noise from the last mission had not subsided quickly, but over the hours and days of solitude, it had at least diminished in volume. Owen had taken his time, waiting until he’d found a better balance in his head to turn back towards the trailhead and civilization. That peace let him look past the anguish and terror the rescued kids had lived through and finally rest in the knowledge that he and Alace had been able to save so many.

  “I did.” He didn’t look at Kelly but was relentlessly aware of the boy sitting there. Throughout the conversation, he’d felt the weight of Kelly’s gaze on him from across the fire, and Owen had scarcely flinched as he spoke aloud things that could have him sent to jail for a long stretch if shared to the wrong people. The boy was wilting, slumping as the hot food and warm fire conspired to ease the tension in his muscles, and knowing he’d be out soon spurred Owen to finish up this conversation. Getting on the road was critical. But he wanted to at least acknowledge to Alace that he might be leaving the woods with more than he expected. “And then some. You’ll see soon.”

  “Be safe, Owen.” Chin lifted, Alace stared at the camera. “I’ll keep digging. Sibling pair, sold to a single owner, source in the foster care system. We’ve got this, frand.”

  He grinned at her, appreciating more than ever the fates that had thrown them together. “I like your style, boss lady. Frands for life.” Without letting her respond, he disconnected and set the tablet in his lap.

  “Is your friend going to help us? She gonna help me and Shiloh?” Kelly looked skeptical, and Owen didn’t blame him. Even being cautiously optimistic right now would feel weird to a boy who’d been without hope for so long.

  “She is, and I am, and we’re going to get Shiloh out.”

  As he turned off the tablet and satellite Wi-Fi hot spot and stowed them into his backpack, Owen put off addressing the boy further. Sunrise was breaking the horizon, painting the skyline and clouds with pastel shades of pink and blue, looking like cotton candy as they increased in intensity with every breath.

  The kid was exhausted. He was seriously malnourished and had been beaten within an inch of his life, then dumped into the woods to die. In a more perfect world, Owen would have used the Wi-Fi to connect to the authorities, calling them in to pick up the kid, and happily waltzed off up the trail, leaving Kelly to be taken care of by the people trained to do so.

  This isn’t a perfect world.

  Owen wasn’t going to question why the same fate that had brought him and Alace together had apparently dropped this kid directly into his path. After all, Owen might have access to the only source of information that would not only save the boy but also give him something back that had been taken from him—his sister.

  It was only weeks ago that Owen and Alace had taken down the sex trafficking ring he now suspected had also sold Kelly and Shiloh. Such a short time since he’d crouched between two cages, each holding a sibling pair, and with Alace’s voice in his ear, had promised them he was one of the good guys. Then he’d killed seventeen men in cold blood, never balking an inch at what was needed. Finally, when all was said and done, he’d unlocked those cages and dozens more, and walked the survivors out into the dank night air and freedom.

  During the operation, Alace had found an opportunity to hack into the traffickers’ computer systems, and at the time, had promised Owen she had everything needed to ensure none of the buyers would escape. Time would tell, but he believed her. Believed in her. Believed in her commitment to righting wrongs. The same ideology that drove Owen, too.

  Now, call completed, it was time to again talk to Kelly and see what else he could offer.

  Keeping his gaze steadily trained on Owen, the boy sat and waited. His fingers trembled where they clutched the fabric swaddled around him. Even with a sunburn layered over his tan, the bruises on his
arms stood out in stark contrast to the skin stretched tight over his bones. Dirt ground into his hands matched that decorating the skin of his knees, testifying to how he’d been forced to live for weeks, hunched over on all fours like a dog. Stumbling out of the dark, Kelly’s first thought, his first words, had been worry about his sister, and that had continued through the tale Owen had pulled out of him so far.

  Owen thought again about how he’d retreated to the woods in an effort to quiet his mind, feeling overcome by the misery he’d witnessed. Things no child should ever be forced to endure, and each tiny face turned up to look at him had reminded him of Emma. So he’d been searching for serenity, a way to forget, even for a while—and had been somewhat successful. Time flowed differently in the woods. Less constrained by clocks, more driven by immediate need. Was he tired? Then rest. Hungry? Eat. He’d been on his way back out to civilization because it was time. He’d recharged enough to take on the next challenge.

  And here was one specially made for his knowledge and talents. That bitch fate had put the perfect mission in his path, which meant Owen had a target, the means to execute, and a reason to take it on.

  First would be identifying the buyers from that auction.

  He glanced across the fire.

  No, first is getting this kid out of the woods. That would mean making him as comfortable as possible since Owen would have to carry him much of the way.

  “You said you were in foster care at one point. Is that who took you to the place where the men were?” Sickening, but it was not unheard of for evil to work its way into the foster care system. If that was the case, the knowledge could give them a clue regarding any new organization beyond the ring they’d busted.

  Kelly shook his head, lips pressed tight together. His shaggy hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes, swiped to the side with the back of one hand.

  “Did you know the person who took you there?” Another shake, but this one turned into a slow nod, as if Kelly remembered something. “Do you know a name?”

  “No.” The boy’s voice was high-pitched like a broken bell, rasping and painful to hear. Owen held up a second bottle of water until Kelly nodded, then tossed it over. Fumbling the catch, Kelly snatched up the bottle as it landed in the dirt next to him, tossing an apprehensive glance at Owen as if he might take back the offer. “But I saw him at the rec league. He volunteered.” Another glance fraught with fear and trepidation. “He’s a cop.”

  Owen didn’t try to hide the way his lip curled at the news. Not because he was afraid to go up against law enforcement. He’d done that often enough, never giving a shit who a mark was or what position they held in society. All that mattered was what he could keep them from doing again.

  “That don’t matter. Bad men hide in all kinds of places. Blue uniforms are merely another way to disguise their sickness.” Owen paused, thinking. “You think your foster home folks are looking for you?” Kelly shook his head again, hair falling into his eyes once more. “Why not? If they weren’t the ones who sold you, then wouldn’t they be worried about you?”

  “He came to the house and said he had to take us. They assumed we were bad.” Kelly sniffed and coughed, and Owen’s back went straight when he saw him shiver even though he was wrapped up in the sleeping bag. “Our folks died. They weren’t bad people, but they OD’d.” He sniffed again. “Didn’t matter. I’d been taking care of us for a long time before that happened.”

  “All right. Do you know your full name?”

  “Kelly Gilson.” Kelly’s head tottered sideways, and he caught himself as he began to slump over. “I don’t feel so great.”

  “Okay. Continued conversation can wait until we’re back at my place.” Kelly blinked at him, a long, slow sweep of his eyelids, confusion clear in his expression. “I’m going to take care of you, and I’m going to get your sister. Kelly, I promise you that it’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not. Don’t lie.” The flat statement took him aback, and Owen paused in place, staring at the boy. “That’s the last thing my dad said to me, and it wasn’t true.”

  “I keep my promises.” Owen set to work gathering up the few things left to pack, scrubbing the dish and spork Kelly had eaten from with a handful of sand before wrapping them in a rag and shoving them into his bag.

  It didn’t take long, but by the time he finished and was ready to douse the small fire, Kelly lay curled on the ground, eyes closed. Burying the few embers with dirt, he stomped and kicked at the contents of the fire ring until comfortable it had no fuel to flare back up. Shouldering the pack, he bent over and lifted the boy, who was dangerously featherlight in his hold.

  “I keep my promises,” he repeated for the benefit of the trees surrounding them. Adjusting his grip on the boy, Owen settled Kelly against his chest. The touch of the boy’s forehead was like a furnace through his shirt, and he realized exhaustion might not be the only reason Kelly was sleeping so deeply.

  “Always.”

  Chapter Three

  Owen

  He’d placed a still-sleeping Kelly on the back seat, torso and legs stretched sideways across the length of the bench in as comfortable a position as Owen could make for him. He’d tucked the sleeping bag around the boy after buckling him in loosely. In the brief time it had taken Owen to maneuver him into the car the sleeping bag had fallen to the ground and, muttering under his breath, Kelly had begun shivering violently but never fully roused.

  It was clear that weeks of poor living conditions, and at least one overnight stay in the woods at the mercy of the elements, had not been kind to the boy. Kelly’s steadily rising fever was concerning, as was the cough that had cropped up during the walk to the car.

  It took an anxious hour to make his way home, and Owen triggered the garage door opener from halfway up the drive, ready to be inside. Kelly’s coughing had gotten worse, and Owen was antsy to get the boy where he could properly tend to his needs.

  Leaving the backpack for now, he kept the sleeping bag around the boy as he scooped Kelly up and walked to the interior door. Standing patiently for the facial recognition software, he blew out a relieved breath when he heard the soft click of the lock disengaging. The light changed from the steady green that told him his house had remained undisturbed during his absence to a light amber, indicating an authorized entry. He’d called it peace of mind insurance when Alace asked about the system, wondering if it might be a bit of overkill. Worth every penny.

  Once inside, he carried Kelly into what had been a large walk-in pantry at one point. Owen had converted the space into a fully stocked medical room, complete with a waist-high, free-standing counter that doubled as a treatment table. With what he had on hand, he could provide significant support for Kelly without requiring the involvement of official medical professionals.

  It’d be better if I can manage to take care of things.

  In the past, he’d occasionally been forced to use an EMT one town over who was willing to bend his ethics for things Owen had needed beyond what he could do himself. But he suspected it would take exactly one nanosecond for the man to get on the horn reporting him if Owen showed up with a young boy who’d been so clearly abused. Not that I’d blame him, normally. But Owen absolutely did not have time for the hassle of explanations right now.

  With the sleeping bag still bundled around the boy, Owen checked Kelly’s temperature and then listened to his lungs. Clear, thank God. The higher than normal temp could be a problem, but acetaminophen would take care of most of it. If the illness was a cold, it would have to run its course. He was anxious to commence solving the puzzle of where Shiloh was, but the boy held priority. So Owen would clean him, clothe him, feed him again, and then let him get some real rest.

  Then he’d call Alace, and they’d get to work.

  The screen mounted on the wall behind him buzzed, and Owen turned. He huffed a laugh at the message displayed.

  What the actual fuck, Owen?

  He gave the camera in th
e corner of the room an exaggerated smile, then indicated the boy on the table and held up five fingers.

  I can call. The text showing on the screen changed before the buzz sounded. Plus you’re wired for sound. Just talk to me. The plea in that statement surprised him, and Owen pulled in a deep breath.

  “Hey, so yeah. This is why I called earlier. This is Kelly Gilson, and he stumbled into my campsite not long before dawn. He’s the brother part of that sibling pair I told you about.” He pinched the skin on the back of the boy’s hand, pleased with how quickly it flattened. “He was dehydrated and hypothermic when he found me. I fed and watered him, got him warm, and now I’ve got him here. He’s running a fever, but maybe the elevated temp is nothing more than being dumped unconscious in the woods like he was. I suspect he was out there for hours.”

  The screen buzzed.

  Sister’s name?

  Owen offered her a true smile this time. Without a single comment about his judgment in bringing the boy home, Alace swung into action. She didn’t need anything else from him, because for her, the why didn’t matter. She trusts me. That struck like a gentle blow each time he thought about it. Looking back down at Kelly, he started the process of cleaning the scrapes and wounds covering too much of the boy’s skin.

  “Shiloh. She’s Kelly’s little sister. Guy who bought them has a unique fetish. He’s keeping a bunch of kids and dogs as a big pack. Look at his hands and knees.” He lifted one of Kelly’s hands, turning it palm up so the camera could capture the depth of the soiling ground into the skin. “I’ve never heard of anything like that, so there’s a chance the guy’s alone. But you know how the true freaks are.”

  Buzz.

  Those assholes flock together.

  “Yes, they do. So I’m going to get him cleaned up and then feed him again and then see how much more info I can get. The guy’s got fourteen or fifteen kids, calls them by their acquisition number. Fifteen here”—he shook his head at the idea of calling the kid by that ridiculous name—“fought with Five over the sister. The owner asshole got tired of the disagreements and tried to kill him. Obviously, he didn’t succeed, and I expect he thought exposure would finish the job for him.” Another wave of shivers washed over the boy, skin lifting in gooseflesh. “He was nearly right.”