by Bella Juarez
“I take a bath every night.” She shoved him away.
He grasped her wrists and held her fast. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy creamed as he continued rubbing his face into her neck. She had to get herself under control, because she could see herself shoving him backward and riding his cock all over again. It pissed her off that he didn’t remember what she’d done to him last night and how they’d fallen asleep next to each other for a little while. In fact, she’d taken the handcuffs and blindfold off, and they’d slept together for most of the night. She’d moved to the couch to avoid Davey’s questions. She melted as he continued nibbling, caressing her. It was frustrating at how vulnerable she felt whenever he came close.
“Danny, what are you doing?”
“You smell delicious.” He nipped along her jugular.
Tiny jolts of electricity shot from where his teeth nibbled straight to her pussy. She bit her lower lip and stifled a moan. As much a she wanted to guard herself, her body betrayed her whenever they made contact. When they heard Davey’s heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, he sat back and smiled at her as if he knew her deepest secrets. If he didn’t know them, he seemed to be figuring them out pretty damn quick. Thankfully, her work phone rang in the next room and interrupted them. She stood.
“I need to get that.”
Chapter 9
Northbound, South Naco Highway
Bisbee, Arizona
June 23, 2010/0218 Zulu
A tired haze shrouded Rio’s brain as she drove the three miles from the station to her house. She’d worked a thirteen-hour shift and stayed an extra hour to process paperwork on eighteen people they’d captured in the brush. The call the morning after her night with Danny landed her back to the office. She’d been cleared of any wrongdoing, and because they were so shorthanded, they needed her to come back and work an extra shift. This week’s work had been hot and dirty. Daylight had slipped away before she’d been able to get home. Even Schotzie was worn thin, and she slept soundly in the backseat. The flashing lights in her rearview mirror gave her a sudden surge of energy as she checked her speed. I’m not speeding. Her tags were all up to date, and her vehicle was in perfect working order because it had been inspected recently. What is it now?
When she pulled off the road onto the shoulder, Schotzie sat up and looked around. The bright spotlight from the patrol car made her squint as she watched the rearview mirror. A silhouette approached her side of the car. It had to be the Cochise County sheriff, because she wasn't in the city of Bisbee yet. Uneasiness swept over her. The only thing between her and the entrance to her neighborhood was a nearby restaurant, and it was closed for the night. The silhouette wasn’t large enough to be Jax, so it was probably one of his cronies. Being so tired, she was in no mood for Jax’s bullshit and games. Anger surged through her as she shoved open the door and got out of her vehicle. What the hell is it now?
“I suppose you’re wondering why I stopped you?”
“PJ? What’s wrong?”
“Rio, we have a problem…”
Before PJ could finish his sentence, two people grabbed her from behind. She struggled and managed to get free from one of her attackers. Hearing Schotzie’s wild barking getting closer, she willed herself to hold them off a little longer so the dog could take care of one of them while she took care of the other. One of her attackers cried out as Schotzie growled viciously. Her heart stopped when she heard a shot and Schotzie’s sickening cry. Panic momentarily seized her when a sharp pain pierced her neck. It didn’t take long for the drug to weaken her. She fought to stay conscious; she had to get to her injured partner. Her limbs wouldn’t obey her as the darkness closed in. Even as she desperately tried to fight the hands that had her trapped, she felt herself being lifted and then dropped into what had to be the trunk of a car. She fought to keep her eyes open and tried to get out of the trunk, but her arms and legs wouldn’t move right.
“Schotzie…”
* * * *
Friday and Gavin were sitting with Dan in his sister’s backyard having a beer. Gavin was scheduled to leave the next day. He and five US Marshals would be escorting the three suspected terrorists to Beaumont federal prison. They were joking around and laughing when Dan heard a dog barking. The relentless sound was out of place this close to the house, and he wondered where a dog had come from. His sister didn’t have a dog and neither did the neighbors on either side of her.
“Shush!” Dan said as he stood and walked off.
“What is it?” Badass asked.
When Dan turned the corner, he blinked at a huge German shepherd barking at the fence.
“Schotzie? What is it, girl?” He opened the gate, and the dog bounded into the yard and grabbed his shirt. She was agitated and continued barking as she jumped all over him. A sudden uneasiness crept over him. What’s Schotzie doing here? He had to calm her and hoped she’d listen to him. “Sit!” he commanded, followed by the hand signal he’d seen Rio use. Schotzie obeyed and quieted immediately as she waited for Dan’s next instruction.
Rio lived a couple of blocks away. The dog knew his sister’s house because they ran past it every day on her daily jogs. She’d stopped a couple of times when he’d been outside working on the yard or playing with Kimi. While Gavin and Friday came around to investigate, Dan knelt down and petted Schotzie in an attempt to calm her agitated state. He felt something wet on her coat and pulled his hand away. Blood? His heart skipped a beat as icy fear raced through him. This dog would not run off and leave her mistress. Unless…
“Where’s mama, girl?” he asked as he looked the dog over. She winced and yipped loudly when he touched the wound near her flank.
“What the hell’s going on, Dan?” Gavin asked.
“She's bleeding. This is Rio’s dog, her partner.” He turned to Friday. “Go inside and find a vet emergency clinic that’s open. Gavin, something bad happened. This dog is a CBP K-9 and would never leave her handler. We need to find Rio.”
Friday lifted the dog carefully and took her inside while Dan and Gavin took off to the CBP station. Something had to have happened to Rio, and how in the hell Schotzie knew to find him remained a mystery. The road that led to the station wasn’t far from the neighborhood. They were halfway to the station when he spotted her jeep on the opposite side of the two-lane highway. The driver’s door was open and there was no sign of Rio from the road. He pulled off and began to turn his vehicle around when Gavin stopped him.
“No! Get down to the station and tell them one of their agents is missing. Drop me off and I’ll call the Phoenix field office for help. Tell CBP to get a forensics unit here ASAP.” Gavin dug out his phone and jumped out of Dan’s truck.
The three-minute drive seemed to take hours as he sped to the station. He pulled inside and found Van McKay, who was just leaving on patrol for the night. Dan quickly filled him in on what he knew, and the CBP agent collected a couple of other agents. A forensic unit was dispatched, and they met across the road from Rio’s abandoned jeep. Gavin was on the phone and carefully looking over the scene as he talked with the FBI field office in Phoenix. Dan watched the expressions on the CBP agents’ faces as they started to comb the area and process the scene. They were clearly worried and working as painstakingly as possible. He exchanged worried looks with Van. The big man not only looked worried as hell, but also scared.
“I sure as hell hope this wasn’t the cartel,” Van said.
Dan closed his eyes and looked away. “We’ll find her and bring her back safe, even if I have to do it myself.”
“What exactly do you do in the Navy, Danny?”
“I work on computers.”
“Right,” Van said, clearly unconvinced. “Does that FBI buddy of yours work on computers, too?”
“Just a guy I know, who happens to be in a reserve unit in my group.”
“Uh-huh. If you know a few other guys, I suggest you start giving them a call. If this was the cartel, she’s already in Mexico, and what they�
��ll do to her won’t be pretty.”
The thought sent a shiver through Dan. If they were lucky, she wasn’t already dead. While he watched the CBP block the side of the road where Rio's vehicle was parked, he considered his options, and his head snapped in Gavin’s direction. Rio had two phones—her duty phone and her personal cell—and both were smartphones. He remembered the features of her personal cell because she’d let him look it over and had teased him about still being such a geek.
“Van, do you have the capability to triangulate a cell phone signal?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, back at the station,” Van said.
“Badass! I’m heading to the CBP station to see if I can pick up her cell phone and get a location,” Dan called out.
“Do you think you can track it?” Gavin asked him.
“If it’s still on her. Salas! Get me back to the station. Badass, here are the keys to my truck in case you need it.” He tossed the keys to Gavin.
Hopping into one of the CBP vehicles, he returned to the station with one of the agents. They went down to the comm room and started the process of tracking her down. He prayed she still had it on her or near her and paced as he waited. They located her CBP-issued cell in the same area as her vehicle. He hoped her captors hadn’t been smart enough to search for a personal cell phone on her.
“I’ve got it and it’s moving! They’re about two miles outside of Douglas.”
“What the hell is she doing near Douglas?” Salas asked.
“I don't think she had a choice," Dan said as he punched the speed dial code for Badass.
* * * *
Gavin, with Dan in the front seat, followed SWAT and ICE from a distance. They’d been able to trace Rio’s phone to a house in Douglas, Arizona. Time was of the essence because the house was fifty yards from the Mexican border, and if this had been the cartel’s doing, there was a very real threat they’d move her into Mexico and eventually kill her. He glanced down at the laptop balanced on his knees. The signal from Rio’s device hadn’t moved in twelve hours. Time dragged into early afternoon while they waited on the search warrant. He’d never felt time move as slowly as it had over the last thirteen hours, forty minutes, and eighteen seconds. His cool exterior hid the anxiety of near panic.
“I’ve been in your shoes, Dan, and I know how you feel,” Gavin said quietly as they waited.
Dan closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. Gavin did know, but Dan wasn’t interested in hearing how to deal with his despair. He remembered when he’d helped rescue Gavin’s wife after she’d been kidnapped by her crazy ex-husband who’d been in league with the same cartel they were dealing with now. Dan didn’t want to think about it and forced himself to keep his focus on the mission in front of him, a hostage rescue. He had to function as if Rio were just another mission, just another hostage. If he let it get personal, he might lose his precarious hold on his control, and that was the last thing she needed right now. As they listened to the radio chatter, time dragged on. Finally, the FBI and CBP received word a judge had signed the warrant that would allow them to enter the house.
The house belonged to a known member of the Montenegro cartel, and Gavin suspected Rio had been taken because of something she’d seen or heard. None of that mattered to Dan right now. His primary focus was to bring her back alive and safe. This crisis, however, hit too close to home and he found it difficult to keep himself in check. If he found the bastards responsible, he might not be able to deal with them rationally. His desperation made him realize how much he loved her and how foolish he’d been because he’d never been straight with her. He hid behind his teasing and pranks but never came out and told her how he felt. Now there was a very real possibility he might not see her again.
“We’re a go,” a low voice said over the radio.
They waited with Gavin as ICE and SWAT entered the house. After a few minutes Gavin looked at Dan and Friday. “Remember, support only. Don’t fucking shoot anyone unless you absolutely have to. ”
When they got close to the house, Gavin directed their search. Dan passed the people outside kneeling and cuffed that had been discovered inside. His tactical eye scanned each one of them as he passed by to determine if they were a threat. His instincts about bad guys had been honed in Iraq and Afghanistan. Over there, he had a split second to determine whether he was dealing with an enemy or potential ally. Enemies usually had a defiant, hostile look they couldn’t hide. He glanced toward the street where ICE had a man against a vehicle. They were questioning him. Dan moved toward him to get answers his way when Friday caught his arm.
“You heard what Badass said. Stick to the plan, LT.”
Dan went back to scanning the people on the ground. Rio wasn't one of them, and SWAT and ICE were still searching the house. Dan and Friday started looking for any hidden areas inside large enough to stash a body. They were experts at finding hidden nooks and crannies because of their experience locating terrorists. That enemy had turned unexpected hiding places into an art.
“Look what I found,” Friday said, poking the barrel of his weapon against an attic hatch in a laundry room.
They cautiously opened the access and Dan carefully hoisted himself up to take a peek. The roof joists had been covered over with plywood to act as a floor. There were no bodies, but it was full of trash and bad smells. They continued and found a space in the floor between the joists. That hole was full of cash and some drugs. Dan’s frustration and fear mounted with every second that slipped by without finding Rio. They walked into the last room, a bedroom at the end of the house, looked around, and found nothing.
“Fuck! We should’ve at least been able to find her phone because it’s here!” Dan roared, as he tore open the dresser and flung one of the drawers against the wall. “I know it’s here!”
“Let’s start over again. Maybe we missed something,” Friday said calmly.
Dan looked up at the ceiling and let out an aggravated growl. As he stared upward, he blinked.
“Wait a minute,” he said, as he stared at the ceiling.
“What?” Friday asked.
“Wait one fucking minute!” Dan ran back to the laundry room.
Looking up at the access they’d found, he hoisted himself back inside and confirmed his epiphany. The attic didn’t run the length of the house. He lowered himself down and rushed to the center of the house. He looked at the high ceiling then ran back to the room where he’d left Friday. The ceiling was low again. There had to be another access point into the attic from this section of the house.
“Friday, help me look around for another place to access the attic.”
* * * *
Rio turned over on the hard wood floor. Her massive headache must’ve been from the stifling, dry heat in this place, and her dehydration left her disoriented. Her mouth was dry, and her lips had begun to crack. She desperately needed some water. She had a hard time drawing a breath; the oppressive heat was suffocating her. She turned her head and tried to focus her double vision, and made out light through a crack in the wall. She had to get help and fast but couldn't bring herself to call out or move. She struggled to concentrate and take one step at a time.
The vibration in her front pocket reminded her that they hadn’t realized she had a personal phone on her. She had to get out of there, but when she tried to move, she found herself restrained. She fought to remember the sequence of events that had landed her here and recalled seeing a face, Juan Mora, a known cartel operative whose forte was smuggling high grade heroine and people. Thank goodness she felt her personal cell phone buzz every now and then. If she could just get her hands free. Whenever she moved her muscles would seize and cramp. She realized it was a cruel turn that her phone was on her and so close, yet she couldn’t reach up to grab it and call for help. She kept twisting her aching wrists against the bands that cut into her skin. Time wasn’t on her side. She’d either die from heat stroke inside this hot, stuffy box or she’d be killed by whoever had taken her. She kept working h
er hands, and the blinding pain caused her to involuntarily moan in agony.
The fight for survival would be tempered at times by despair. Knowing she needed to stay strong in order to stay alive, she used her training and tried to focus. But every time she tried to concentrate on what she needed to do to get out, despondency overtook her. Above all, her brother needed her; she couldn’t leave him like this.
Davey’s depression and drinking binges bordered on suicidal at times. She remembered one particular incident when one of the police officers from Bisbee had brought him to her house rather than taking him to the lockup. After screaming at her to stay out of his life, she held him in her arms for the better part of an hour while he cried like a baby. He begged her not to say anything to their mother and promised he wouldn’t get into any more bar fights. He’d kept that promise but still remained broody and drank way too much. What would happen to him if she gave up now?
Then there was Danny. Thinking about him broke her heart, but she couldn’t avoid it. She couldn’t help falling back in love with her prankster once she saw him again. The one regret she no longer had was that she’d finally been able to get as close to him as two people could get, and she vowed that if she got out of this situation she would tell him how she felt. She’d make every effort not to let him slip through her fingers this time, and she’d fight anyone who tried to take him from her. She had to keep thinking about all the things she had to live for and not let her desperate situation consume her in anguish. The longer she lay there helpless, the more convinced she became that she’d never see anyone again.
Rio had nearly given up hope when she heard noises again. Attempting to orient herself, she tried to move around to figure out where it was coming from. With what little strength she had left, she screamed for help and only a dry croak that made her throat feel like it was on fire sounded. It seemed like an eternity as she waited for a response, but no help came. Hallucinations? She heard people yelling in Spanish to get down and not move, kind of like a raid.
