by Nic Saint
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Jackie,” he croaked, his voice breaking.
“You were right,” she reciprocated. “You told us to get out of here for our own safety, but we were stubborn, Susan and I. But you were right.”
“No, you were right. No one should be allowed to scare you away,” he stressed. “No assholes should be allowed to attack women with impunity. And I’ll make sure you never have to worry about them again.”
He led her to the main space, and she sank down onto a bench while he walked over to the field of slain men, and stood there, surveying the carnage, a hard glint in his eye.
“What are you going to do with them?” she asked, rocking herself.
“Clean them up,” he replied curtly.
Her eyes went wide as the significance of his words sank in. “Oh, no, you can’t!” she cried.
He looked up in surprise. “Jackie, they attacked you. These men are scum of the worst kind.”
“Then they should go to jail,” she returned adamantly. She couldn’t just sit idly by while he killed seven men. “You have to hand them over to the police. They will be tried and receive their just punishment.”
He eyed her wearily. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“I’m not,” she assured him. “I’m sure there are policemen who are just and honest and not corrupt like these men. You have to call them and tell them what happened. I’ll testify and make sure they go away for a very long time.”
“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” he grumbled, then heaved a deep sigh. “But I guess you’re right.”
Surprised, she eyed him curiously. Was he for real? Was he really going to listen to her for once?
He scratched his scalp, and her heart constricted when she saw the blood still dribbling from his head wound. He needed stitches, he needed a hospital, and he needed it now. “Do the right thing, Erik. Call the cops, and call an ambulance.”
“All right,” he muttered, as if it were the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. “Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he grunted, then picked up one of the men’s phones, and dialed a number. He stared at her as the call connected. It was obvious he’d never called the cops before. “Police? Yeah, I want to report an attack at the Copacabana. Seven of your men are involved. Yes, there are witnesses.”
His green eyes flickered to Jackie, and she saw the hesitation there. Even though she’d said she would testify, it was obvious he wanted to spare her the ordeal. But she nodded, and he went on. She would testify. She would make sure these men never attacked another woman again. And the justice system would do its work. That’s how it should be, and that’s how it would be.
Hanging his head, Erik began to describe what had happened, and she watched him with admiration. He was doing this for her, she knew, and something snapped inside her, her heart suddenly expanding at the sight of this formidable man, standing there steady as a rock, calmly recounting his story.
When he turned to her, the phone switched off, a desperate look in his eyes, she rewarded him with a radiant smile. “You did the right thing, Erik.”
“I hope so,” he muttered, then gathered her in his arms once again, and she knew she would never get enough of him. Of his scent, the comfort of his arms, the nearness of him. This was more than mere physical attraction. Her heart had become involved, and things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
CHAPTER 20
Their vacation wasn’t exactly turning out the way Susan had hoped. It now looked like they would spend their last day confined to the police station instead of lounging by the pool or sipping cocktails at the bar and singing karaoke.
She’d never been much of a woman for spending time at police stations and she wasn’t having a blast now. The only consolation was that she wasn’t alone. Her best friend was here, and so were Bruno and Erik, her two new best friends. And then there was the fact that all these cops were real hunks and real nice too, which made things at least less unbearable than she’d feared.
Back where she came from cops weren’t this handsome, nor did they walk around in Bermudas, displaying muscular thighs the size of which she’d never seen on a Chicago cop. But then she’d never seen a Chicago cop waltz around in T-shirt and shorts either.
She had to admit it was quite an experience. First they’d asked her a ton of questions about the attack that had taken place back at the hotel, then she’d had to point out the guy’s picture from a yearbook of cops. And she’d found him. Had actually managed to locate the creep in the book. Go figure.
The cop hadn’t looked too happy, though, especially when she told him she had no idea what had happened to this Pablo Ortega guy, as his name turned out to be. The burly copper had insisted she tell him all she knew, and when she’d told him she knew diddly, he’d frowned, and left the little room they’d been spending so much quality time in. It even had a mirror, so she’d taken the opportunity to fix her make-up and fluff up her curls, in case the sexy cop returned and asked her out on a date.
A girl could only dream, right?
One thing she wouldn’t do was tell them what had really happened to Pablo Ortega. She couldn’t possibly tell these coppers that Bruno had killed the creep and then dumped his body in an unmarked grave now could she? That wouldn’t be nice after all the big guy had done for her.
Bruno was such a sweetheart. Not really her type, but definitely fun to play with. She’d briefly wondered how her moral compass had become so banged up that she was protecting an actual killer now, but then she dismissed the thought. Like Bruno said, the men he killed were all bad, which made him a good guy in her book.
And then there was this horrific attack on Jackie. Seven guys had lain into her! And then Erik had shown up and had gotten all Caveman Jack on them, wringing their necks and all. Phew. What a guy. The nice policeman had a whole lot of questions about that, too. And like before she hadn’t had a whole lot of answers. Well, she hadn’t been there, had she?
He said she was a character witness, which made sense, in a way. So she’d told them both Erik and Bruno were model citizens. Real salt of the earth kinda guys, and she said she wished there were more like them.
The cop had just stared at her wearily, shaken his head, and muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Increíble.”
Now all she could think about was getting out of this place. The sun was sinking fast, and she still wanted to spend some more time soaking up the rays. Or soaking up the cocktails. Or both, actually.
Unfortunately, she had to wait patiently while Jackie finished her testimony. And Erik. And Bruno. The wheels of justice sure moved at a snail’s pace in this place. She just hoped they would put those seven monsters behind bars for a good long time, only releasing them when their beards were touching the floor and their nasty little peckers were dangling limply from lack of use.
Around this time tomorrow, she’d be back in Chicago, typing away at her desk, and all this would be nothing but a distant memory, like the rest of her vacation. When finally they told her she was free to go, she took a selfie with the friendly copper—she had to have something to post on Facebook, right?—and then she was out of there!
Back at the hotel, she suggested to Jackie they party deep into the night, but her friend had been wiped out from the ordeal and didn’t feel much like partying. Well, she couldn’t exactly blame her. If she’d been attacked by a pack of wild policeman rapists, she’d be a bit under the weather too.
So she tucked Jackie into bed, worried she might have suffered permanent emotional damage from the ordeal, and then set out to enjoy her last night, Copacabana style. Bruno escorted her downstairs, and together they were the life and soul of the party until late into the night, when she finally lost all track of place and time, and fell asleep in the big lug’s arms, tucked away into a booth.
It wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind for her last night, but Bruno didn’t protest, and the big man’s arms were really strong and
accommodating. She didn’t find fault in them at all, and it felt good to have all that man meat tightly wrapped around her, and even when he carefully placed a tentative hand on her boob, she didn’t even discourage him, but quickly filled his other hand with her other boob, and hugged him a little closer.
It felt good. Real good.
Too bad tomorrow she’d never see the guy again.
And too bad she was too wasted to scratch the sudden itch she felt.
CHAPTER 21
The day had really wiped her out. The moment Jackie’s head hit the pillow, it was lights out for the young secretary, and she’d been lost to the world for hours when she awoke in the middle of the night to strange noises in her room. At first she thought it was Susan, crawling around on hands and knees, trying desperately to locate either the bathroom to heave, or the bed to sink into. This time, however, the noises came from the foot of the bed, and when she finally opened her eyes sufficiently to make out what was going on, she thought she saw a tall figure hovering there, cloaked in darkness, staring down at her.
She shivered violently, her eyes wide open. With a shuddering sigh, she became aware of more dark shadows hovering all around her, but before she could scream, a hand was pressed over her mouth, and a strong odor assaulted her nostrils and then she was plunged into darkness once again, only this time it was drug-induced, and not the natural blanket of sleep.
When finally consciousness returned, she found herself in a different room altogether. Her first impression was that she was in a hospital, the room bare and the walls whitewashed, her wrists strapped to guardrails with ropes.
Then she blinked, and a wave of nausea assaulted her, the room swaying. She swallowed desperately to calm her roiling stomach. Whatever they’d used to take her down was wearing off but the effects still lingered.
At least she was alone, a small consolation. She wondered what had happened, and with a rising sense of panic realized she’d been taken—she’d been kidnapped and was now being held by these unknown assailants.
The only thing she could think of was that they must be the same men from the day before. But how could that be? They were all locked up in jail, safely tucked away and processed by the police department. Had they managed to escape?
Then Erik’s words came back to her, how he’d confessed not to trust the local police department to go after their own, adding that perhaps there were more cops involved. Perhaps the whole department was infected, mixed up in something much bigger than a mere couple of perverts wreaking havoc in the local hotels.
Could it be that they’d simply let the men walk? That was impossible. Why would they let them go after all the evidence they’d provided? They’d spent practically the whole day down at the station house. Had it all been for nothing?
It just made no sense. No sense at all.
And she was just about to dismiss the crazy theory, when the door softly opened and a man walked in. Her eyes went wide with recognition. It was the same man who’d led the attack on her, the man with the scar. The leering grin on his face was testament to his determination to finish the job he’d started.
“Well, well, well,” he grunted, stepping up to the bed. “Jackie Bouchard is up and awake. And how are we feeling today, my dear?”
“Let me go,” she hissed, pulling against the ropes tying her to the bed. “Let me go, you sick twisted bastard.”
He tsk-tsked quietly, then gave a horrific chuckle. “I think you know why you’re here?”
“I have no idea. But if you don’t let me go this instant—”
“Oh, but we will let you go, Jackie. As soon as you’ve fulfilled your purpose we’ll be more than happy to let you go.”
“How could you do this!” she cried, tears springing to her eyes, both of frustration and anger. “You’re a policeman. You’re supposed to protect and serve. To uphold the law. How could you lower yourself to something like this?”
He merely shrugged, then lowered his head to her, and whispered in her ear, “Because I can!” He dragged up a chair from the corner of the room, the legs scraping on the cement floor, and straddled it. “Now, what I wanted to see you about…” Suddenly, he was all business. Not the leering pervert of the day before, but a cop trying to tie up some loose ends. “This boyfriend of yours. This Erik Petrov. What can you tell me about him?”
So that’s what they wanted. To use her to get to Erik. Well, she wouldn’t let that happen. Not on her life. “I won’t tell you a thing,” she said in a low voice.
His eyes went dark with anger and he took a grip on her face, digging his fingers into her cheeks and holding it steady as his eyes bored into hers. “Now listen up, chica. The only reason you’re still breathing is because you can be of some use to us. We lost a man to that boyfriend of yours, and we plan to get him back. So I propose you tell me what I want to know, or I can make this very uncomfortable for you.” He grinned his lascivious grin. “And I don’t think I need to draw you a picture of exactly how uncomfortable.”
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed, trying to get away from his horrid hand and piercing eyes. “I don’t know Erik. We only just met. I barely even know his name.”
Her statement rang true, because it was, and the man seemed inclined to believe her. “Even so,” he stated, “I think you know more about this than you’re letting on. Did he tell you what happened to Pablo Ortega?”
This time it was much harder to lie. She was a woman naturally inclined to be truthful, and lying in the face of adversity didn’t become her well. “I…don’t know,” she began.
He dug his fingers in deeper, and hissed, “La verdad, Jackie. The truth!”
Finally she cast up her eyes defiantly. “He’s dead. They killed the pervert when he attacked my friend.”
He jerked back at this, and paced the room for a moment, muttering strange oaths under his breath. Then, without another word or even a glance back at her, left the room, slamming the door behind him.
She lay back, defeated. She should never have said that. She should have kept her mouth shut. Now Erik was in serious trouble. They’d go after him now and kill him. And who knew what they would do to her.
She should have listened to Erik when he told her not to trust these cops. It was obvious now they were receiving protection, acting with impunity in spite of all the evidence piling up against them.
But how was that even possible? How could an entire police department be this corrupted?
She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. All she cared about now was Erik. She just wished he’d discover her gone, and would take measures to protect himself. She desperately hoped he’d already done so. It would make her own situation less hopeless than it was.
CHAPTER 22
Erik thought he’d lose his mind. He’d been playing the footage over and over again: shadowy figures entering Jackie’s room in the dead of night, then grasping her from the bed and hauling her off to some unknown destination. He cursed himself for not having been there to prevent this from happening. He’d been on a conference call with his father and his boss Roman Loginovsky, going over the events of the day.
Both Roman and his dad had confirmed that his judgment had been sound: under the circumstances it was best to go to the cops, even though it went against the grain. When he’d finished his call, he’d softly entered Jackie’s room, and his heart had stopped when he saw she was gone. Her sheets were a mess, and there were visible signs of a struggle. And as if that wasn’t enough indication, a note had been speared to the pillow with a knife, instructing him to meet the gang of thugs down at the hotel casino. Or else.
He’d been on the phone with his family in seconds. This was a situation that called for some serious backup, and within moments, his siblings had been alerted of the drama that was unfolding. Dad must have heard the distress in his son’s voice, for he’d reacted swiftly and immediately the call had gone out to all Petrovs. Three hours later, he was at the small airstrip, anxiously awaiting the
private jet, scrambled by Roman himself, flying in the troops. Bruno, sobered now, stood beside him as they watched the jet approach.
“This should never have happened,” Bruno told him for the umpteenth time. “We should have handled this ourselves.”
“I know,” he grunted. He’d wanted to humor Jackie by doing things her way, and now they were in an even bigger mess than before. It just went to show you could never trust cops. Better to deal with things the Petrov way. He conveniently forgot for a moment that his family was now actively working with the authorities, and had been for quite a while. Ever since Yulian Gornakov, the head of the family they worked for, had decided to turn his business away from crime, they’d been consulting with an FBI agent called Nathan Callaway, taking down the last vestiges of illegality in any of the Gornakov organizations.
After years of working for the Mob, Petrovs were walking the straight and narrow. To a degree.
The jet taxied to a stop, and when the door opened, one by one his siblings stepped from the plane. Michael was first, as usual, then Diana, Robert, the twins, and Alex. Dad had decided to stay put. He had other matters to deal with back home. And Peter rarely saw action these days, legal matters keeping him busy. He’d offered to join the others, but Erik had told him they should be able to manage without him for a change.
When Erik greeted his siblings, it was with head bowed down. He’d failed not only Jackie, but his own family as well. He’d been sent out here to Mexico to get the job done, and he’d failed. Instead of taking care of the problem, he’d only made it worse.
