Dirty Dealers

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Dirty Dealers Page 22

by Tia Louise


  “They gave us twenty-four hours from midnight last night. He scheduled the email to go at five thirty. We can stop him if we think that isn’t enough time.”

  Reaching up, I rub my fingers over my eyes. “Fuck,” I growl. “What’s left to search?”

  Freddie is pacing, studying the face on his large smartphone. “It doesn’t make sense. We’ve checked every abandoned site in the area. They have to be here!” His voice rises the more he speaks, and as much as I’m ready to shout myself, I need him to keep it together.

  “So what’s left?”

  He stops and looks at me, his dark brow low over his dark eyes. “They wouldn’t keep them in a warehouse being used… would they?”

  “Let me see the images.”

  He quickly passes the device to me, and I watch as the black vehicle creeps around the outskirts of the city in the foothills before dropping down the Avenue des Guelfes.

  “Central Export is right here.” I point to the water’s edge near the international heliport.

  The muscle in his jaw moves back and forth. “It’s too busy. Heli Air has hourly flights to St. Tropez. Anyone could find them there, and while they might get away with it because Kass is blind, Ava would yell for help.”

  Stefano has his phone out and starts to read. “Central Export specializes in food and non-food shipping to the African continent and the Caribbean.”

  Our eyes flash to each other’s, and I’m moving before I finish saying. “MOVE!” I’m in the Mercedes with Freddie driving, Rex and Stefano are right behind us.

  “We can’t storm in there.” Freddie is planning out loud. “They can’t know we’re coming. They have too many ways to escape. For all we know they could have a helicopter on standby.”

  “A helicopter is easy to track. They wouldn’t get far.”

  “A cargo ship? They could already be gone in that case.”

  “No, they want the money.” My bent elbow is propped on the window, and I pinch my top lip. “We’ve got to storm the place. We can’t afford to waste time.”

  Kass is on my mind. I know she’s been hurt once. I’m certain she’s bleeding, in pain. My stomach twists, and I drop my fist willing the car to move faster.

  “We need to get to her.” It’s a noise barely above a whisper, but I feel the car accelerate.

  We have to go all the way up and around the university. We’re on the border with France as we drive past the stadium. I check my watch. It’s five thirty.

  “The email has gone,” I say, wishing I had my motorcycle.

  Being in this huge vehicle we have to follow the wider streets, whereas on my bike, I could cut through alleys. I shift in my seat and rest my forearms on my legs.

  “Come on!” I practically growl.

  “Two more lights,” Freddie says, and I hear the tension rippling through his voice as well.

  I would say run the lights, but this is an incredibly busy area, filled with commuters to Nice and tourists catching helicopter flights further out to sea. If we’re right, it’s actually a brilliant place to hide two hostages. No one would ever think to look here. If we’re wrong, we’re losing valuable time, and I fucking know what happens when Blix is told no or made to wait. The gruesome package we received while searching for Zelda is at the forefront of my mind.

  Finally we make it past the Avenue des Guelfes, and we’re racing toward the shore where the shipping warehouse is across the street from the helipad.

  “Which place do we search first?” He shouts, but I’m out of the car and racing toward the large, white airline hangar.

  I push my legs so hard my thighs burn with exertion, and as I slam through the door, I sweep the area fast. An enormous black helicopter with white stripes down the sides and over the tail sits in the center of the enormous structure. A man in a dirty blue jumpsuit is at the back, and at the noise of the four of us stampeding in, he steps back, holding up a wrench.

  “Que ce passé-t-il?” He’s startled and wanting to know what’s happening.

  I explain in French we’re searching for a party of men holding two women. He’s confused, and I explain as best as I can without revealing the queen has been kidnapped.

  “I’ve been here all day,” he says in French. “No one like that has come or gone.”

  Stepping back, I face Freddie, Rex, and Stefano. “One place left.”

  We’re out the door and headed back up the short distance to Central Export. A main office faces the road with a large warehouse rising behind it. The facility is blocked off from the main road by a chain-link fence, but no one appears to be manning the guard hut. Since I’m ahead of everyone, I race around the fence to the squat orange-stucco building. The windows are dark, and when I reach the glass doors they’re locked. The front counter is empty.

  “NO!” I shout just as Stefano joins me.

  “Stand back!” he says, and I immediately comply.

  He pulls what looks like a large pocketknife from his side holster, and turns it in his fist, lifting his blazer over his face just before slamming the tool into the glass. The door shatters at once, and we both charge through it, ducking under the steel bar on the inside.

  The dark front office has two doors behind the counter, and we split up, right and left. Freddie and Rex are behind us. My door is bolted shut, but Stefano’s opens easily. He flicks on a light, and I dash across looking all around the empty storeroom to verify no one is in it. A small bathroom is off the side, but the light isn’t on.

  “Look!” Freddie shouts.

  He’s pointing to heap on the floor that makes my insides clench. It’s a pair of navy slacks I recognize as belonging to Kass. Even if I wasn’t sure they were hers, they’re soaked on one side with a dark stain that can only be blood.

  “Fuck!” I shout, pushing out of the room and returning to the bolted door. “We’ve got to get this open!”

  I step back and kick it with my booted foot as hard as I can. It doesn’t budge. I push up on the counter and hit it hard with both feet. Still nothing.

  From the other side of the door, I hear a noise that shrivels my insides. It’s screaming. Nonstop screaming over and over. It’s Kass.

  “FUCK!” I shout louder. “Get this fucking door open! We’re out of time!”

  “Go to the back and try to get inside,” Freddie shouts to Rex, who dashes for the broken glass doors. “You! A battering ram is in the trunk of our Mercedes.”

  Stefano is out the door, and I look at Freddie. The screaming has stopped, which is worse than hearing it. Why did it stop?

  “We’ve got to get in there…”

  “Search for a key.” He rips open drawers, shoving papers aside as I search the walls and doorjambs. The search is futile, but Stefano is back carrying a small red battering ram.

  I’m the largest of the four of us, and I stretch out my hand. “Give it to me.”

  The two men flank me as I pull it back and slam with all my might against the plate at the door knob. It gives immediately and almost falls open on one strike.

  “One more, and we’ll be in,” Freddie says as I’m pulling it back.

  I let the ram fly with all my strength, and the door falls away to reveal a sight that sinks my insides. Ava is on the floor in a heap. Blix is sitting on the floor in a macabre state. His back is to the cot and blood soaks his neck and shirt running all the way down to his pants.

  Gorilla Man and another man I recognize from the images on Freddie’s computer stand over Kass, who is tied in a way that only makes me run harder. I grab Gorilla by the front of his shirt, and before he can respond, my fist makes contact with his neck. He falls back, most likely dead.

  Freddie has the other guy, and the Bowie knife is out of my boot. I’m slicing through the cords, and as they snap, her feet fall, a little moan aches from her throat straight to my heart. Her arms go limp at her sides.

  “Kass?” I say, petting her head.

  I only get a moment to check on her when I feel that fucker Blix
moving at my side. From the corner of my eye, I see as he reaches back then slams his fist into my leg causing an explosion of pain to rip through my calf.

  “FUCK!” I yell, dropping to my knee.

  I look down, and the handle of a punch dagger is sticking out of my leg. In that moment, Kass lunges past me. She’s off the cot, grasping the handle of the Bowie knife. Sunlight blazes through the large warehouse doors as Rex slides them open to join us, and with a broken noise somewhere between a scream and a sob, Kass jams the blade straight into Blix’s right eye just before collapsing onto her stomach.

  “Jesus!” Freddie yells from behind me.

  My rage is no match for hers, but when Blix makes another sound, my vision tunnels. Filling my mind is the torture he’s inflicted. I see my beautiful Kass hogtied and bleeding, I see all the victims he’s tortured and killed, and I remember my promise. Dragging him off the floor, I slam his back against the wall. His artery is cut, the knife still protrudes from his face, and that fucker refuses to die.

  “Look at me,” I say, boring into his remaining eye. No drop of humanity is left. He’s pure evil.

  “I see you, motherfucker,” he snarls like a rabid dog. “I own you.”

  “You’ve never owned me.” My fist is tightening on his neck, and he coughs up blood. “I’m the angel of death.”

  I might not have time to break every bone in his body, but I can get the one that counts. Lifting my right hand, I place it on the side of his head. Rotating the hand on his neck, I catch his jaw, and with one swift twist, the satisfying Crunch echoes up my arms.

  His entire body goes limp, and I take my hands away, allowing him to fall into the heap of garbage he is. I turn away, and a flash of pain shoots through my leg.

  “Shit,” I hiss, reaching down to extract the push dagger from my muscle. I drop it on the floor and return to Kass. I’m injured, but from my time in the military, I know it’s minor.

  Kass is on the cot, her eyes still closed. Her beautiful hair is pulled away from her face in a crude knot, and her eyes are swollen from crying. A nasty purple gash is across her forehead, and she’s wearing enormous grey sweatpants.

  She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  I sit on the cot and gather her into my arms, lifting her onto my lap. She begins to cry. “Is it over?”

  Her whole body is shaking, and she grips my shirt. I have to blink a few times myself.

  “It’s over,” I say, gently kissing her head, stroking my hand down the back of her hair. “I’ve got you.”

  “Logan…” Her voice breaks, and I feel her small body shudder in my arms.

  I only tighten my hold on her. “Shh,” I say, kissing her again. “Don’t cry, my Sass. I’ve got you.”

  Freddie is across from me tending to Ava. She’s not bloody, but she’s wobbly. We need to get both of them to the hospital immediately. Stefano has Taz contained, and Dez appears dead on the floor. We’re simply waiting for backup.

  Nothing But the Truth

  Kass

  Panic strangles my throat. Where am I? The smell of bleach burns my nose, and a nonstop beeping is coming from somewhere above me. It’s too dark to see forms, and my arm is restrained to the bed, which makes me panic even more.

  “Let me out!” I try to speak, but my voice is gone. I try to sit up, but I can’t move. A massive, dark form rises at my side, and fear floods my limbs…

  Until he speaks, and I start to cry.

  “It’s okay, Sass.” Logan’s deep voice comforts me. His large hand smooths my hair. “I’m here.”

  “Logan…” It’s all I can say.

  His hand moves behind my neck, and I’m surrounded by his comforting scent.

  “Where am I?” My voice is dry and cracking, and he moves away.

  Cold filters around me without his presence, but it’s only for a moment.

  “Drink this.” He holds something to my lips. “It’s water. You’re in the hospital.”

  “Oh!” I turn my head quickly straining my ears. “I can hear!”

  It’s a silly thing to say. Of course, I can hear. Logan and I have just been talking, but my brain is foggy, and I’m still piecing together where I am now and sorting through the macabre images in my brain.

  “What…” Confusion is in Logan’s voice, but just as fast he seems to understand. The cup is gone, and he’s holding me again, wrapping me in those gloriously strong arms I love. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.

  Anger simmers in the back of his voice when he speaks again. “You have a small burn on your ear… Is that what he tried to do to you?”

  From inside the cocoon of Logan’s arms, my voice sounds so small. “He was doing it… but you were there.”

  Even with Logan’s arms around me and my face in his chest, a shiver moves through my bones.

  His grip on me tightens. “He’s dead, my Sass. You never have to fear him again.”

  I struggle out of his arms and try to push myself into a sitting position. Only my arm is still tied. “Why…” Then the realization hits me. They think I took Ava… I’m one of the bad guys again. I can barely say the words, “I’m a prisoner.”

  Logan slides off the small bed and moves around to where I’m restrained. “Not exactly—”

  Just then the door opens. “Excusez-moi,” A female voice addresses us in French. “I need to check Miss Kroft.”

  Logan kisses my head and goes to the door. “I won’t be far.”

  “Let me help you.” The woman goes to my side, and I listen as she unfastens the buckles, releasing my arm. “We stitched your side and treated your head.”

  My head. I reach up with my now-free hand and touch the bandage. “I forgot…”

  “We closed it with medical glue. It follows the lines in your forehead, so it shouldn’t leave a noticeable scar.” She’s lifting the blankets near my hip, and I turn so she can access my side. “Yes.” A smile is in her voice. “You’re healing quite well. We can release you today if you like?”

  Before I can answer, another voice joins her. “And how is Miss Kroft?” It’s the grand duke.

  “Healing quite well, your grace. I was just saying she could go home if she likes.”

  My brow furrows, So I’m not a prisoner?

  “Let me speak to her, but yes, please start the release papers.”

  “Of course.” The woman leaves us, and I sit up.

  “Miss Kroft, I asked to speak to you a moment.”

  “It wasn’t a vaccine.” Unexpected anger fills my chest. Perhaps I have no right. Perhaps I was always a prisoner, despite what Freddie or Ava said, but still. “You lied to me.”

  “We needed your help—”

  “You could have asked for my help.” I lift the blanket to get up and stop when I realize I’m only wearing a hospital gown.

  He seems to understand. “Yes, well. Perhaps this isn’t the best time. However, I will say thank you. You helped us a great deal.” The click of expensive shoes on linoleum tracks him to the door. “The queen regent brought a parcel of clothes for you. It’s on the table there.”

  I don’t reply. The door clicks shut, and for a moment I don’t move. So many emotions rush in on me at once—I’m not a prisoner, Blix is dead, Logan is somewhere… Overriding them all, like a vacuum opening in the center of my chest, is the crushing memory I held off as long as possible: Cameron.

  My breath stills and my eyes squeeze shut. I wrap my arms around my stomach. Hold on, Cassandra. I have to hold on just a little bit longer. I have to find Ava so she can help me… Ava. Where is Ava?

  I slide off the narrow mattress and fumble to the side table where a small bag sits. My foot hits a boot, and I lean down to run my hands over tall leather. This is good.

  A few clicks, and I’m in the bathroom. A chunky sweater and filmy, short skirt are quickly on. Returning to the dresser, I roll on the knee socks and stick my feet in the boots. I’m ready to face what comes next when the door opens slowly.

&nb
sp; I wish I had my glasses. I wish there was more light in this room. I don’t know who’s standing there, so I wait… for the voice that crumbles my insides.

  “You’re dressed. You’re—”

  My involuntary cry cuts him off, and I run to meet him at the door. His arms go around me, and I’m holding his waist, squeezing him and crying. My body won’t stop shaking, and the emotions pulse in my chest with every heartbeat.

  “Cameron!” I’m soaking his shirt with my tears, but I can’t seem to care. All I can do is hold him. “Cameron…” It’s a shattered whisper.

  “Hey.” His voice is soothing. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

  “But…” I hiccup a breath and step back, still holding his forearms. “You were shot.”

  “Almost.” He lifts my hand to his forehead. I feel the bandage on the side as he continues. “I guess it was too dark? Still, it knocked me out. Logan found me.” He reaches up and lightly touches my head. “We’re twins again.”

  Tears are still in my eyes, and I start to laugh as gratitude heals the pain in my chest. I step forward again to hug him so tight.

  “I’m so happy we’re twins again.”

  “Not true. You always hated that.” He laughs and squeezes me again before struggling out of my clinging hold. “I’m happy you’re okay.”

  “Take me home?” My hand slides to the crook of his arm.

  “Sure.”

  * * *

  My brother says goodbye as I open the metal door to my apartment building. It’s been so long since I was here. It’s the first time I enter without fear.

  Cameron briefly filled me in on the drive home—as he tolerated me holding his hand and touching him every few minutes. Blix is dead, Dev is dead, and Taz is in prison. He didn’t say if I would be taken into custody—I don’t know if that’s what Reggie wanted—but I’m not hiding. They know where to find me when they’re ready.

  Stepping into the dark hallway, I look up the narrow flight of stairs, wondering if…

  Click, click, click…

  The noise of doggy nails on hardwood.

  Yip! Yip!

 

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