Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series)

by Beauman, Cate

  “Hey, you ready to get out of here?”

  Alexa continued to stare at her thighs, afraid Jack would see the sorrow in her eyes. He knew her too well. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  “Come on.” He took her hand and they stood.

  They started toward the exit, weaving their way through the tables full of men and women. Alexa glanced around once more, taking everything in—the dancers circling the poles, the men transfixed and staring, the darker hallway off to the side of the stage leading to closed doors, but there was no Abby.

  Jack pushed open the door and she took a step into the night. “You said—”

  “Stop.” He pulled on her hand.

  Frowning, she met his gaze as he tugged her back into the noisy room. “What is it?”

  “I think I just saw Abby.”

  She whirled. “Where?”

  “Going into one of the rooms down the hall.”

  Without thinking, Alexa rushed ahead.

  Jack caught her by the elbow and squeezed hard until she gasped and halted. “What are you doing?” he hissed close to her ear.

  “I—Abby’s here.”

  “I think she’s here,” he bit off.

  “We have to do something. We have to get her and take her with us.” She glanced back to the hallway, fighting the urge to pull away and yell to her sister that this was almost over.

  “Look at me.”

  She met Jack’s cool eyes, surprised by the chill she’d only seen once before on a cold February night.

  He pulled her several steps away from the door and the bouncer. “If you want to see your sister again, you’ll calm down. This is make or break, Alex. If they even think we’ve seen her, they’ll pull her out of here before you can blink and put her on a plane to some place that makes this shit hole look like paradise.”

  She took a deep breath and pressed her lips firm, trying to settle her racing heart. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right.” She had to pull herself together. This wasn’t the time for hysterics. Abby needed her to be strong. “What are we going to do?”

  He studied her, then nodded. “We need to find seats—closer to this side of the stage.”

  “Okay.”

  They weaved through the crowds again to an empty table.

  “Should we call the police?”

  Jack shook his head. “The rooms off to the side are usually used for private dances. I’m going to try to get a positive ID before we do anything. You’ll have to stay here.”

  She wanted to go and see Abby for herself but knew that wasn’t an option. “Okay. If it’s her how will we get her out?”

  “We won’t.”

  Shocked to the bone, her eyes flew to Jack’s. “What do you mean we won’t? You promised me that when we got our break you were going to do whatever you had to do to bring her home. This is our break, Jack. I can’t leave here without her.”

  “Look around the room. Do you see the bouncers at every door, next to the stage, and at the end of the hall?”

  Alexa’s gaze darted to each of the large men dressed in black, covering all potential exits. Abby was possibly no more than fifty steps from where they sat, and she couldn’t help her. “Jack,” her voice broke. She cleared away the weakness. “There must be something. There has to be a way. The police.”

  “One step at a time. Let me make a positive ID first.” He took her chin between his fingers. “Listen to me, Alex, and listen carefully. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t move from this table. Don’t go to the bathroom, the bar, or outside. Keep your phone in your purse and do not call Canon or 911. Understand?”

  Who was this cruel stranger? She pulled free of his grip. “Yes.”

  He stood and walked to the bar.

  What happened to Jack? In a matter of seconds he’d gone from supportive to hard and distant. She watched as he spoke to the bartender and pointed to the rooms in the back. He shook his head and shook his head again. It wasn’t long before the bartender signaled to one of the bulky men in black.

  The bartender said something to the man before the bouncer nudged his head for Jack to follow. She met his gaze and watched as he disappeared down the dim hall beyond.

  The bouncer opened the door to a dingy room. “No touching the ladies, or I’ll have to punch your face in.”

  Jackson nodded and took his seat in the folding chair, noting the holes in the plaster-cracked walls as he breathed through his mouth. The place smelled like shit.

  The knob twisted and a redhead stepped in. Not Abby.

  “Hold up. I said the black-haired girl.”

  The bouncer folded his arms and tilted his head. “What’s wrong with Strawberry?”

  “For fifty fucking bucks I want what I paid for.” Jackson looked the young redhead up and down. If she was eighteen, he was eighty. “Sorry, sugar, redheads don’t do anything for me.”

  Strawberry glanced at the bouncer, then at the floor as she stepped from the door.

  “I was gonna bring some pals here for a bachelor party next week, but if you guys can’t deliver—” Jackson started to stand.

  “Hold your fucking horses. She’s coming.”

  He settled again, wound tight from the wait. He was worried about Alex out in the lounge by herself among the slime of Baltimore. He couldn’t shake the anguish haunting her eyes. She’d stared at him in disbelief when he told her they would have to leave Abby behind—if she was even here at all. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get them both out safely, but he had to remember his own words: one step at a time. Confirmation first.

  The door opened and Abby walked in wearing a tiny red bikini. Her small, firm breasts spilled from the ill-fitting top. The stringy bottom left little to the imagination. Jackson clenched his jaw as their eyes met, the recognition instant. He held his breath when she paused mid-step, afraid Abby might blow it right then and there. Things would get bad quickly if she ruined his cover. “Now this is more like it.” He grinned. “What’s your name, sugar?”

  “Fawn.”

  “Fawn?” He nodded and winked. “I’ve been looking for someone just like you, honey.” Son of a bitch he felt like a fucking perv, even with the double meaning. This was Alex’s little sister. She’d grown into a stunning woman.

  She glanced down before their eyes met again and she straddled him with her pretty, slender body.

  He swallowed, sick from the entire situation as she ground herself against him, rubbing her breasts over his chest. I’m sorry, Abby. I’m so sorry.

  She reached her arms behind her neck and tugged on the tie to her top as she stared at him, her eyes pleading. Jackson wanted to reassure her and give her some piece of comfort, but he could only hold her gaze while the bouncer stood in the corner watching their every move.

  The thin straps of her bikini fell forward. Abby moved her hands to her back to unhook the last piece of flimsy fabric while she gyrated against his crotch.

  He couldn’t take any more. Forgetting the rules, he grabbed her arms and squeezed gently. “Leave it on.”

  The bouncer stepped forward. “I said don’t touch the lady.”

  Jackson held up his hands before he got kicked out. “Sorry. Leave it on, Fawn. Tits aren’t my thing. Your ass however... Take off the bottom.”

  Her brow shot up in the same go to hell expression he’d seen on Alex’s face a hundred times before. Dear Christ, she was Alex’s mirror image, and she was suffering.

  “That’s not part of the service, fucker,” the bouncer sneered. “There’re girls on every corner around here.”

  Jackson shook his head and shrugged. “I guess this’ll have to do. Do you dance often, Fawn?”

  “I—”

  “She ain’t gettin’ paid to talk. Times up.”


  Jackson pulled a fifty from his wallet and handed the bill to Abby, full well knowing they would take it from her as soon as she left the room.

  Abby stood and held his gaze as she walked to the door.

  “I’ll be thinking about you, Fawn. I’ll be back.” He winked and smiled as she left, and he got to his feet, wanting to see where she went.

  “What’s your hurry?” The bouncer stepped in front of him, blocking the exit.

  He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

  Thirty seconds passed before the asshole moved to the side.

  Jackson opened the door and peered about, but Abby was gone. He made his way down the hall, listening, trying to figure out where the dancers went after they finished their ‘performance’.

  “You had your dance. Time for you to go.” The bouncer walked behind him, following him to the main lounge.

  “Guess I can’t win. First, I was in too much of a hurry. Now, I’m not fast enough.”

  “Just walk, asshole.” He gave Jackson a shove on the shoulder.

  It was tempting to turn around and punch the shit out the man who was more fat than muscle, but he spotted Alex at the table, fending off the advances of some guy.

  “I said no thank you.” She shrugged away from the same kid who’d had his face in the dancers boobs just a few minutes before.

  “You know you want to,” Frat boy slurred.

  “I assure you I definitely don’t.” She started to stand.

  Jackson stepped up to the table. “Beat it.”

  Frat boy stood from his lean on the cheap plastic and overbalanced, catching himself on another patron before he fell. “What’s it to you, pal?”

  “She’s with me.”

  “Are you his girl, sexy?”

  “Uh, yes.” She stood and wrapped her arm around his waist.

  “I’ll fight you for her.” Frat boy stumbled forward.

  He didn’t have time for this shit. Jackson sidestepped Alex and yanked the little punk up by his sweaty t-shirt. “Get the hell out of here before I knock you out.”

  Two of Frat boy’s friends hurried over and pulled him from Jackson’s grip. “Fuck, Dustin, what the hell? Sorry man.” With their apology, they slung their arms around Dustin’s shoulders and started back to their table center stage.

  Jackson glanced around the room, noting more than one bouncer looking in his direction. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed Alex’s hand.

  She tugged away. “Did you see her? Was it Abby?”

  “I’ll explain in a minute.” He took her hand again and pulled her toward the exit, reading her hesitation perfectly. She had no intentions of going anywhere without her sister. He would put a call in to Canon as soon as they were safely in the car and out of earshot. “Come on, Alex.” He yanked her through the door as Abby stepped into the darkened hallway dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, her long, black hair tucked under a ball cap, accompanied by two well-muscled men with shaggy beards and crew cuts.

  Alex clutched his arm as she struggled to turn. “Oh, Jack, there she is. I see her. She sees me. They’re walking her down the hall. They’re taking her away.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, forcing her to face forward as a bouncer eyed him. “Keep going, Alex,” he said next to her ear. “Keep walking. They’re watching us.”

  She did as she was told. “I can’t leave her here, Jack.” Her breath shuddered in and out. “I can’t just walk away.”

  “We don’t have a choice.” He propelled her forward and scanned the parking lot, keeping his eyes open for muggers. They were in one of Baltimore’s worst areas. He unlocked their doors when they stopped at the rental car. “Get in.”

  “Please, Jack. Please.” Her eyes filled as she clutched his hand.

  She was killing him. “Get the hell in, Alex, before we have more problems to deal with.” He opened the door for her when she made no move to do so herself and gave her a small shove. “Now.”

  She sank to her seat.

  “Fucking A.” He slammed her door, seething with helplessness. They were too late. He’d wanted to call Canon and get someone from the taskforce over here, but Abby’s handlers and the drunk fucker had ruined his plan. If he hurried, he might be able to follow them back to their stash house.

  Just as he opened his own door, he spotted trouble heading their way. Three men appeared from the shadows just steps from where he’d parked. Not good. Bending quickly, Jackson pulled the .9 mm Sig from his ankle holster and took aim in their direction. “Former cop, boys. I’m not really up for any games tonight. Keep your hands where I can see them and get out of here.”

  The men held up their hands. “Hey, man, we’re just walking by.”

  “Walk faster.”

  They hurried toward the bold pink lights of Lady Pink, and Jackson got in, locked the doors, and started the car, then placed the pistol in the center console. “Buckle up.”

  Alex stared at him as he pulled on the street and took an immediate right into the back alley of the strip joint. Bold, colored graffiti painted dirty bricks, trash spilled from dumpsters, but no one was here. If they brought Abby out this way, they were long gone. Goddamnit!

  A rush of anger flooded his veins as he threw the automatic into reverse, backed out of the narrow lane, and accelerated on the quiet, mean streets, slowing for traffic lights instead of stopping. He reached for his phone as they merged south on the interstate and dialed Detective Canon’s office line, waiting, steaming out a breath when he was sent to voicemail. Hanging up, he tried Cannon’s cellphone. Same thing. With a calm he didn’t feel, he left his message. “Detective, this is Jackson Matthews. It’s 2:45 Wednesday morning. I’ve just left a club in downtown Baltimore, Lady Pink, where I saw Abigail Harris and another potentially trafficked young woman. Please get back to me as soon as possible.” He hung up, swore, and tightened his hands on the wheel. Abby had been right there. He glanced at Alex and caught her eye before she turned to the window.

  “Alex.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Alex, we—”

  “Leave me alone, Jack.” Her voice was a cool slap.

  He rolled his neck, trying to relieve the tension. “Alex, I—”

  “I don’t want to talk right now.”

  He ground his teeth in defense against the pain radiating in her voice. “Fine.”

  The last thirty-five minutes of their ride passed in brutal silence. Thank God they had less than ten to go. Jackson counted down the miles as they traveled the Bay Bridge to the island. He glanced Alex’s way again. She hadn’t moved. He drove through the quiet town, turned into the sleepy neighborhood he’d grown up in, and sighed as he pulled into his parent’s drive.

  Alex reached for the door handle as he shut off the engine.

  He grabbed her hand before she could make her escape. “Hold on.”

  “I don’t want to hold on.” She wouldn’t look at him.

  “Alex, we had to—”

  “We left her!” she exploded. “We left her there! I saw her. She saw me. She watched me walk away. My God! What must that have been like for her?” Alex flung her wig to the floor as her breath tore in and out. She yanked herself free of his hold and rushed from the car.

  He whipped his door open and headed her off at the front of the vehicle. “Wait.” He pulled her against him. “We’re going to get her, Alex.”

  “Oh stop it!” She shoved at him. “Just stop! She was right there, Jack.”

  “So were fifteen bouncers. She had two handlers all her own. How were we going to get her past them? Do you think they were going to let us take her hand and walk away?”

  “I don’t know.” She freed herself from his grip and hurried toward the docks. “All I can think of is the way she looked
standing next to those horrid men and the way her eyes held mine. She’s a prisoner. You promised me, Jack. You promised me we would do whatever it took when our break came. That was it. That was our shot to get my sister the hell out of this.”

  He took two steps after her, and she whirled. “Don’t follow me.”

  “Of course I’m going to follow you. You’re upset.”

  “I don’t want you,” she spewed and kept walking.

  Jackson stopped short as her verbal sucker punch hit the mark. He turned and headed back to the house but hesitated when her quiet sobbing echoed on the early morning air. He closed his eyes and jammed his hand through his hair. “Goddamnit.” Guilt and regret were eating him alive. He’d wanted to take Abby away from that hell too. If she had been in the alley with the two men as he’d hoped, he would’ve grabbed her. How could he make Alex understand that they had to walk away? Even with his weapon, he’d been no match for more than a dozen bouncers.

  He stared into the dark, listening to her quiet agony as a boat motored by in the distance. Despite what she said, he couldn’t leave her. Sighing, he walked to the end of the dock and stared down as Alex hugged herself tight and rested her forehead against her knees in the moonlight. Her gentle, muffled weeping destroyed him. He sat next to her and hesitated, then hooked his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Alex. You have no idea how sorry. I tried to think of a way to get Abby out of there.”

  She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around him, clinging. “Oh, Jack, I know that. I do.”

  He pressed his lips to her hair.

  “What are we going to do?”

  He stroked his fingers along her spine and stared into the dark. “Call Ethan. Talk to Tucker, the former detective I work with.”