Mob Justice

by Morgan Kelley

  In fact, he was suspicious of something going on with the woman. He didn’t buy that she’d been ‘driving by the Croft home’, out in the middle of nowhere, and happened to find a dead man—who was wanted by the FBI, and the Croft’s home on fire.

  Something didn’t jive.

  There was more too it.

  Who was she covering for?

  That was the big question, and he knew a cover-up when he smelled one. Raye knew because he was the king of shit not matching up. He dealt with it in his personal life and with the people he ruled over with an iron fist.

  So, he was curious.

  She catches a Russian killer, is found at the Croft home, and turns down his offer of captain?

  Seriously?

  To make it look worse for her, she basically threatened him.

  Well, he had news for her.

  He’d done his research on the pretty, feisty detective, and it wasn’t good.

  She was alone in the world.

  Her father bailed, her mother and sister were murdered, and they’d never caught the person who did it.

  Well, he’d asked some questions, he’d dug around, and he found a name.

  The police back then had only a few suspects, and while everyone thought he was just a figurehead for the police, he knew his way around an investigation.

  It didn’t take long.

  He knew who it was.

  One person, who they couldn’t tie to the scene, but they couldn’t discount either was the guilty party.

  And he’d found him.

  So, if Poppy Wayne wanted to play games, he hoped she was ready for one hell of a head-to-head matchup.

  Money had exchanged hands.

  Her picture and address had been given to someone who could handle it.

  She was about to get a little visit from the person who missed her the first time around all those years ago.

  When she threatened him, she’d made one hell of a mistake. While she couldn’t die by some ‘accident’, or by the hand of another cop, if she died by the hand of the person who killed her mother and sister all those years ago…

  It was perfect.

  No one would investigate.

  No one would question it.

  And thus, his plan to handle Detective Poppy Wayne was born.

  Jeffrey Raye was not a stranger to doing battle, and if she thought he was afraid…he wasn’t.

  Oh, it took more than a set of tits to scare him.

  He was running Vegas, and fortunately for her, he had bigger fish to fry.

  If not, he would have ‘handled’ her himself. Poppy Wayne got very lucky on that one. He wasn’t one to mess around.

  He hoped she suffered too. She’d stirred the shit pot and it was threatening to take him under.

  Greyson Croft was digging around in his past, and that wasn’t going to happen. Vegas was on the cusp.

  It was balanced between good and evil.

  He was playing the role of the good, and he had to win. It was as simple as that.

  Greyson Croft could dig all he wanted.

  He wouldn’t find the truth.

  He may be good.

  But he wasn’t that damn good.

  No one was.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  He’d been watching her for a good hour as she worked out at the gym. He’d watched her running, sweating, and kicking the shit out of a bag.

  It was hot.

  It turned him on.

  She looked exactly like her mother, and that confused him. Maybe she hadn’t died. Maybe he didn’t kill her.

  Had she lived?

  Was this the woman he wanted all those years ago?

  He was struggling with it.

  Or was this the young girl who had grown up, and she resembled her dead mother?

  He closed his eyes and tried to figure it out.

  That helped him focus and come to his conclusion. Did it matter?

  Finally, he was finally going to have her.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  She was going to be his.

  All those years ago, the woman turned him down, and now, he was going to be able to finally have what he wanted most in his life. It had been empty.

  This was what he’d been missing.

  HER.

  When he’d arrived at that woman’s house—all those years ago, he found her there, and she’d been with a child. She was trying to pretend she didn’t know him.

  She told him she didn’t understand what he wanted.

  How was that possible?

  He knew what he wanted.

  Her.

  He wanted her.

  In fact, he wanted more than that. He’d wanted her back because he couldn't live without her. After he killed her, he was sorry he did it. He wanted her back in his life.

  He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten. All those years ago, when she said no, he’d been furious.

  How dare she?

  How dare she run from him in the first place?

  She was his.

  He was sick of this whole game of her pretending not to know who he was. She knew him.

  Oh, she knew him well.

  She’d been his.

  Now it looked like he was going to get exactly what he’d wanted. He was going to be able to replay it all out, and this time, he could change the ending.

  He could keep her alive.

  Hopefully, she didn’t piss him off like last time. When she threatened to call the cops if he didn’t leave, he’d been livid. In that moment, he snapped.

  He lost it.

  In all of that anger, he’d been lost. All he could think of was that someone needed to teach this woman that in a man’s world, being a woman had only one place.

  Under his thumb.

  In that moment, he’d had enough, and he hurt her.

  He had dragged her into the bathroom, drowned her in the tub, and then handled the little kid. He wasn’t big on children, but he’d teach that whore a lesson. He’d teach her what happened when you told him no.

  And he did.

  Repeatedly.

  He took what he wanted from both of them because he could. He was the man, and no woman was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

  To punish her, he chained the little girl to the radiator, and when she screamed into the gag as he violated her, he wanted her to hurt even more.

  So, when he was done, he tightened the chains and turned up the heat.

  She didn’t say no as the metal radiator cooked her flesh, burning it to the metal.

  No.

  She knew who was the boss.

  When he went in and pulled her dead mother from the water and raped her next, she didn’t even move. The fight was gone, and he was glad.

  She’d been tamed.

  Now this one was in the gym when she should have been at home, on her knees, and pleasuring a man.

  Pleasuring him.

  Well, he’d make sure she was.

  He’d make sure she wasn’t going to run again. He finally had a second chance with her. She hadn’t died that night. She’d lived, and hopefully, she’d be better.

  Or he’d drown her in that tub again.

  And again.

  And again.

  He’d make sure he trained her right.

  So, when he got the photograph and address of who she was, he wanted to pay her a visit.

  How could he not?

  She was right there.

  She was within his grasp.

  Once he saw her, there was no doubt that he had to have her. Her mother might not have wanted anything to do with him, but she would.

  He could tell.

  She was waiting for him.

  She was single.

  A pretty single lady shouldn’t be alone in the world. It was a dangerous place out there. Ironically, he told her mother the same exact thing, and she didn’t want to listen.

  Look how that turned out.

 
He’d been right.

  Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on her, and not the woman in his head. He tried to differentiate.

  He tried…

  But he failed.

  So, as he watched her, he couldn't help but fantasize about what he was going to have with her.

  This was a new beginning.

  He was going to get this woman to understand what no one else ever did.

  You didn’t say no to a man.

  You didn’t fight.

  You took it, you obeyed, and you loved every second of it.

  If she couldn't understand that, then the outcome would be the same.

  Death was a suitable punishment.

  He wasn’t screwing around.

  This woman needed to finally be his. When she was, he’d make sure they picked up right where they’d left off.

  He was going to own her.

  He’d train her right.

  This time, he wouldn’t be as nice. He’d learned a lot in the last few decades.

  Take what you want before it’s gone.

  He was ready to claim his prize.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Washington DC

  When Ethan Blackhawk got the news that the girl would be landing in DC and on her way to Vegas, he wanted to make sure everything was taken care of for the Crofts.

  This was a child, and he knew she needed to be handled with kid gloves. As a father, he could only imagine how scared she must be.

  The Crofts deserved his time, and so did this child.

  They’d worked super hard at trying to stop a trafficking ring, and they deserved some ‘FBI’ assistance along the way.

  He was willing to do it for them too.

  When he boarded the jet, the child was sitting there in a seat with two people surrounding her. The agents had handcuffed the little girl to the seat.

  He nearly had a stroke.

  All Ethan could think of was what if someone did that to Cat or Charlie?

  He nearly lost his mind.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked, pointing at her wrists and the silver cuffs made for criminals NOT children.

  “She tried to scratch our eyes out and open the door in the middle of the flight, Director.”

  He stared at the man and woman as if waiting for them to add a punchline to this joke. They outweighed the child and outnumbered her.

  What the hell?

  “You don’t handcuff a child to a seat!”

  “Sir, she’s an animal. She’s wild. We didn’t have any choice in the matter. I was always taught that children should be seen and not heard. She is a menace.”

  No.

  He.

  Didn’t.

  The only reason he didn’t lose his mind was he was trying not to scare the little girl. She was staring at him with big, wide aqua eyes, and had to be terrified.

  “Give me the keys and get the hell off this plane. You’re relieved of duty.”

  They shrugged and did as he asked. Neither of them looked like they minded either.

  Ethan pointed at the pilot.

  “Close the door. I’ll be taking the flight to Vegas. Call the tower and get us in the air. You have two for transport to Vegas.”

  The man did as he asked.

  Ethan called Gabe and asked him to cover for him. He’d be back by morning, and he had to be. He was helping his brother with some important things they had planned. If he flaked, his brother would kill him.

  As Ethan sat down beside her, he didn’t uncuff her until the jet was in flight. Then he reached down and tried to set her free.

  She pulled away from him and growled like a scared, wounded animal.

  Okay, so the agents hadn’t been lying about her being wild. He could see it in her eyes. It looked like Dimitri Gideon was going to have one hell of a job with this child. She didn’t even speak.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  She stared at him.

  He had an idea.

  Pulling out his phone again, he searched for a translation app that he could use with her. When he found it, he downloaded it and typed in a phrase in Russian.

  She listened to it, but it didn’t register.

  Nothing.

  She didn’t even bat an eye.

  It was clear that while Russian, she didn’t speak it. Next, he tried Romanian.

  She listened, and then she looked up at him as if she understood. He tried another sentence.

  The little girl nodded and let him touch her wrist to remove one of the cuffs.

  “See?” he said, reaching for the other one.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, typing it into the translation app.

  She shook her head after it asked her the question.

  In that moment, his heart broke. This child didn’t even have a name. She’d been nothing more than something to sell off to the highest bidder.

  It broke his heart as a father and horrified him as a Fed. This was a travesty.

  He tried to make that connection to her.

  “I’m Ethan.”

  He entered it into the app.

  “Ethan,” she repeated.

  He smiled and pointed at himself.

  “We can use this to talk,” he said, pointing at the phone after the app translated his words into Romanian.

  She slowly nodded.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She listened to the words as the app translated them, and she nodded.

  When he reached into his pocket, she moved back against the seat. He made some cookies appear in a sleeve from the vending machine in the Hoover building. He could live without a snack. This child didn’t look like she’d eaten in a while.

  Ethan handed it to her.

  She tore into it and started eating.

  Ethan didn’t have any more food on him, but the pilots might. Heading to the cockpit door, he knocked.

  “Tommy, I only have cookies on me. She’s starving. Do you guys have anything up here? Was the galley stocked?”

  “Deputy Director, we just had it stocked since the Director is using it tomorrow. It has his favorite things.”

  He grinned, knowing what that meant. Gabe had a sweet tooth, and he liked junk food.

  Was it ideal for a growing child?

  No.

  Would it work?

  Yes.

  “Thank you.”

  Ethan turned to check on the girl, and she was gone. Well, she couldn’t get far. Slowly, not to spook her, he looked in the rows until he found her in the back of the jet pressed into a corner. Her legs were tucked into her body, and she was eating her last cookie.

  Well, it was a start.

  This had to be terrifying for her.

  He went to the refrigerator and pulled out some orange juice. Taking a seat on the floor beside her, she watched him with fear.

  Then he opened the juice and handed it to her.

  “Ethan.”

  He smiled.

  “I’m Ethan.”

  She pointed at his phone. It was clear she was smart. She understood that it was the link between them.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  She listened and sipped her juice.

  Then she spoke.

  The app recorded it and translated it onto the screen. She didn’t have a clue.

  That was sad.

  No.

  That was horrible. If Dimitri and Greyson weren’t going to take this child, he would. Blackhawk would have bundled her up, brought her home, and made her one of his tribe.

  Someone had to love her.

  That need to take care of her overwhelmed him, and he tried to get more nutrition in her.

  “Want more food?” he asked.

  She looked wary.

  He typed something into the app and hit play.

  It calmed her.

  Ethan pulled out his wallet and showed her the pictures in it. He was holding his kids.

  “This is Cat.”

  Sh
e meowed.

  Ethan smiled at her. “You know some English?” he asked. Then again, it made sense. She was purchased by some gypsies. They’d be grifters running cons. There would be tourists they conned and dealt with in their country.

  She nodded.

  “What else do you know?” he asked, typing it in.

  “Lost.”

  His heart broke.

  “You’re not lost. We found your family.”

  She looked confused.

  He began typing.

  “Your brother and sister live here in America. They found out that you were alive in Romania. They wanted to meet you.”

  He waited as all of that played out for her to hear it.

  She reached for his phone and pushed the button she’d seen him push, and it played again.

  Ethan moved it closer to her ear.

  She nodded.

  “Family?”

  Ethan got up and reached into a cabinet to get her something else to eat. Since the flight was stocked for Gabe, and Livy couldn’t police his food over the United States, there would be kid-friendly food.

  He’d been right.

  It was junk food.

  He sat back down with a box of crackers and a can of processed cheese. And this was why Livy wouldn’t let Gabe eat of his own free will.

  It was the worst stuff for him.

  “Cheese?” he asked, typing it in.

  She nodded.

  Ethan showed her how to push the nozzle and get the cheese to come out.

  She laughed.

  “Cheese,” she said, shoving the cracker into her mouth. He then made another for himself and ate it.

  She happily munched and drank the orange juice that he’d given her.

  “Were they mean to you?” he asked, typing it into the translator app.

  She nodded.

  His heart broke. Their intel said she was around twelve, but that didn’t play for him. She was small.

  He was betting she was much younger.

  “That’s why your family wanted to meet you.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  She said something.

  Ethan pushed the button, and she said it again. He hit play to listen.

  “I don’t want to have sex anymore.”

  He wanted to be sick.

  Tears filled his eyes now.

  In that moment, as a father, his heart broke. No child should be used for the pleasure of men. No child should ever have to use that sentence.