Taken By the Force

by Lyla Sinclair

  “God, your partner,” I murmured. “I’m sorry.” Then an idea struck me that was so obvious, I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of it before, except that I didn’t really want to think before.

  “I’ve got it! Take my handcuffs off.”

  For some reason, Rick did what I asked without argument.

  “Give me your cell phone,” I said.

  “Why?” His suspicious face was back.

  “Because I just figured out how we can clear up this misunderstanding. I’ll put it on speaker phone. You can hear everything.”

  “You’re a con artist. How do I know—“

  “Rick, I’m not a con artist. I’m not a stripper. I’m not Anastasya Pet-whatever. And you’re wasting valuable time on me. Let me use your phone.”

  I don’t know if it was the stern sound in my voice or the fact that the sex had relaxed him enough to finally listen to me, but he handed me the phone from the nightstand on the other side of the bed.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “You’ll see.”

  I dialed the number. “Kenny Pearson,” the voice answered cheerfully.

  “Hi Kenny.”

  “Andy? Why haven’t you been answering your phone? And why couldn’t I get you at the club? Joe said you’d gone somewhere with a friend. I didn’t know you had friends in Vegas.”

  Obviously, Joe hadn’t wanted to tell his boss that he’d made his sister a stripper, then lost her, and I was sure he hadn’t called the cops because of his cop-a-phobia.

  I looked at Rick, who seemed puzzled, but not convinced yet.

  “Andy?” Kenny repeated.

  “Quit calling me Andy. Call me by my real name.”

  “Jeez. Okay Andrea. Or is it Ms. Pearson now? Damn, I leave you in charge for a couple of days and you get all full of yourself. Anyway, whatever is going on, you need to call mom. You never told her you made it safely from Minneapolis and she doesn’t believe me because she can’t get you on the phone.”

  Rick blew out a breath. Some of the blood seemed to have drained from his handsome face. And his eyes were darting around as if following the wild thoughts in his head.

  “I’ll call her. And I’ll be back at the club in a little while.”

  “Me too,” he said. “The hospital’s releasing me today, and I’ll be there sometime before the club opens tonight.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you there.” I hung up the phone. Rick was already pulling clothes out of a garment bag in the closet. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of that sooner,” I said. “I was kind of distracted by you…um, your…well being taken and handcuffed and…” This wasn’t what I was really trying to say, but he didn’t look like he was listening anyway.

  “I have to grab a shower and change clothes,” he said. “Then I’ll take you back. I’m going to have to go to the Vegas P.D. and see if I can get any more help out of the cops here. I thought I had the only solid lead in my possession.”

  He shook his head. He seemed completely disgusted. With me? Or with himself? “I promised Danny and Shelly I’d get these bastards and instead I’ve made the biggest screwed up mess of my career. Danny’s lying in a coma in L.A., and I’m in Vegas fucking a stripper…or a CPA…” He turned and looked at me hard, like he still couldn’t believe I was what I said I was.

  “Rick, it was an honest mistake. I had the purse with the initials and—”

  “Get dressed and I’ll take you back.”

  I felt abandoned already. I got off the bed and thought about the fact that I didn’t have much to get dressed in. He seemed to remember at the same time.

  “Look, in that bag. I’ve got some drawstring sweatpants and shirts in there. Grab whatever you want.” He walked out of the room, and it felt like he’d taken a huge step out of my life. There was no reason for him to spend any more time with me once he dropped me off at the club.

  With a heavy heart, I went through his clothes and dressed in his too big sweatpants and zip up hoodie that went down to my knees. I wished we’d met under other circumstances because I couldn’t shake the feeling we should get to know each other a lot better, and not only in bed.

  But then I remembered that if we’d met under other circumstances he wouldn’t have even noticed me because I would have been in my “please don’t look at my body” clothes. I walked over and looked at myself in the mirror. The old Andrea was back, all baggy and boring. Why had I done this to myself all these years?

  Oh yeah, scarred from childhood. But if there was one thing the last couple of days had taught me, it was that I should let go of the past and enjoy my body. Rick certainly had.

  I closed my eyes and remembered the feel of his hands on my breasts, his lips tickling my ear, his hot, hard cock in my—

  “Are you ready?” he asked. He’d obviously dressed in the bathroom, out of my view. That stung. But in his grey suit and deep blue shirt he looked heavenly—I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like hell.

  *****

  We made it back to the club all too soon. Carl let us in and Rick walked me to my “apartment”—a.k.a. safe room. My chest ached at the thought that this was probably the last I would ever see of him.

  As we stood inside the doorway, I glanced longingly at my bed, wishing Rick would spend even one night there with me. Me—Andrea—not Anastasya the stripper. But I knew he had more important things to do. Besides, I wasn’t exactly beguiling to any man in my current attire.

  Rick stood in front of me and cleared his throat as if he had something to say but didn’t know how to say it. His hands went up like he was going to put them on me, then he dropped them to his sides.

  “Look, Ana—Andrea, I’m really sorry about everything. I’m usually a lot better at my job. I guess this is why they take you off cases when you’re too close to them.” He looked away, and I was sure he was thinking about his partner. “Anyway, you have the right to file charges against me. My career is over. I kidnapped you.” He knitted his brow and looked past me like he couldn’t believe what he’d done.

  “Rick. You didn’t kidnap me. I went with you.”

  “When I told you to, under false pretenses—“

  “I wanted to go with you.”

  “You were crying, for Christ’s sake. And I thought you were faking it!” He actually seemed angry with himself for making me cry.

  I reached up and put my hands on his shoulders. “Listen to me. Obviously, if I’d been desperate to get away from you, I could have screamed bloody murder in the apartment, or at least come up with a solution sooner.” I brazenly curled my hands around his neck, trying not to think about how schlumpy I looked in his sweat clothes. “I went to that VIP room with you the first night because I found you irresistible, but then I realized I had no idea what I was supposed to do in there.”

  “Because you’re not a stripper…” I saw the wheels turning in his head. He must not have thought back to that first time we met. “Regardless, I had no right to keep you against your will and…molest you.”

  “I molested you first. In my dressing room.”

  Rick put his hands on my waist. “Yeah,” he said. “You sure did.” He smiled.

  “I won’t report any of this to law enforcement officials,” I clarified. “If you won’t report it to the CPA board.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, then he focused his chocolate gaze on my eyes. I felt like I’d been lasered. “Anyone ever tell you, you have a way with words?” he asked.

  I weaved my head back and forth. “Yeah.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and that they weren’t so sorry they’d kidnapped you?”

  “Never.”

  He bent his head to kiss me and I stood on my tiptoes to meet him halfway, since I’d ripped those miserable boots off the second I got inside. The kiss was like something brand new—warm and soft and sweet…until he got carried away and pressed the back of my head with his hand and practically stuck his ton
gue down my throat.

  Hot.

  He released me too soon. “I’ve got to go, but—” His cell phone rang.

  *****

  Rick

  I didn’t recognize the number of the incoming call. “Webb,” I said. “Who is this?”

  “Jerome Johnson. You know, from the Jiffee Stop?”

  “Yeah, I remember. You got something for me?”

  “I’m pretty sure that guy you’re after came in again. He was with another dude that looked like him. Had funny accents.”

  “Sounds like them. When was this?”

  “A few minutes ago—“

  “Okay, I’m on my—“

  “Wait! I heard them say something to each other about heading somewhere, like they were on the way.”

  My heart raced. I could finally call in the Vegas PD and corner these fuckers. “Where can I find them?”

  “I’m not sure where it is, but it sounded like ‘Starvers’ or more like ‘Starvors, I guess.’”

  I turned to Andrea. “Can you get on the Internet and find a place in Vegas called ‘Starvers’ or maybe ‘Starvors’.”

  She looked at me wide-eyed and we seemed to have the same thought at the same time. “Do these guys have Russian accents?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “They’re coming here.”

  I hung up the phone. “We need to get you out of here,” I said, but she was already out of the room ahead of me. I found her at the desk in the office staring at the monitors.

  “Too late,” she said. She grabbed the walky-talky. “Carl, if you’re in the building, take the south exit and get away from here, then call 9-1-1. Don’t go to the other exits. There are six men, and they’re armed. I’ll be in the safe room.”

  I pulled my gun as I watched three of the men break into the front entrance, while three approached the north side by the dressing room.

  “What the hell are they after?” I said to myself more than to her.

  “Looking for Anastasya?”

  “Six guys breaking in for a stripper?” That didn’t make any sense. “Is a lot of money kept on hand?”

  “There are a few thousand locked in the bottom drawer of the desk. The take goes in a hidden safe in a room that looks like a janitor’s closet in the back…but Kenny makes those bank deposits, so there is are several night’s worth of money right now.”

  “Who knows about the money? Would Anastasya know?”

  “I’ve never even met her, but several people know—Joe, and the security guards… I don’t know who else, I was only here a couple of days before you—it doesn’t matter, come on.”

  She grabbed my arm and tried to pull me toward her bedroom. I didn’t move. “Hide in the bedroom,” I said. “I’ll hold them off.”

  “No, it’s a safe room. We can call 9-1-1 and wait ‘til the cops come.”

  I checked the monitors. All six men were inside now. “Let’s go,” I said. It was the only thing that made any sense. When we were inside, Andrea pushed a button. The door closed and locked solid. She pushed a second red button.

  “Security company,” she said.

  The phone on the bedside table rang and she answered. “Yes. There are six armed men here. An out-of-town cop and I are in the safe room. The security guard may be on the premises. Call 9-1-1.”

  She hung up and ran over to the bank of TV’s. “Joe showed me how to use these. They’re more security screens.” She pushed a button and a control panel slid out. Soon all twelve screens were on. I was impressed by the way she kept her head in an emergency.

  We stood in the middle of the room and scanned the monitors. “They’re all going in different directions,” I said. “They know there’s a safe, but they’re not sure where it is.”

  “Nobody is close yet,” Andrea said. She grabbed a remote and switched the monitors to other cameras. “How long do you think response is for the Vegas cops?”

  Before I could answer, she ran over to one of the monitors and stared at it like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A red convertible had pulled into the parking lot.

  “Fuck!” she cried. “It’s my brother Kenny.” She grabbed the cell phone from my belt clip and dialed. “Shit, it went straight to voicemail. I have to go warn him.”

  “No!” I glanced around at the monitors. The six men were spread out all over the club. “I’ll go,” I said.

  *****

  Andrea

  I knew Rick was more qualified to save my brother than I was, but the idea of sending him out to face six armed criminals was terrifying. Within minutes, I could easily lose one or both of the men I loved most in the world.

  Rick glanced at the monitors, then pushed the button to open the door.

  “Wait Rick,” I said as I realized he would have to go through two of the gunmen if he went straight to Kenny right then. There would be a shootout. “Listen, Kenny is sort of OCD about certain things. He’ll have to go through a whole series of rituals before he even gets out of his car.”

  “How long have I got?”

  “A couple of minutes on the phone call he has to make, then at least five minutes wiping down the dash and so on, plus he’s got a broken leg, so he’s probably on crutches.”

  “Okay.” Rick started to leave, but I grabbed his arm and dragged him to Kenny’s desk. I opened the top drawer.

  “Here, put this on your ear so you can hear me through the walky-talky.” I handed him an ear piece. “I’ll watch the monitors and talk you through.”

  Rick look surprised, then…proud? “Got it,” he said. “Now lock yourself in the safe room. Don’t worry. I’ll save Kenny.”

  “Save yourself, too,” I replied. He nodded and turned to go. There were still no cops outside. The idea of Rick going it alone made my insides shake. I wanted him to know how important he was to me. Damn, where was that Vegas police force?

  “Rick,” I whispered before he got to the door.

  He turned.

  What did I want to say? Something that let him know how much I appreciated this. Something that would protect him from the armed gunmen. Just something…

  “May the force b—“I realized how lame that sounded in this situation.

  He chuckled. “I’ll be back,” he said, an admiring sparkle in his eyes. “Don’t worry.”

  I ran to the safe room, pushed the button and scanned the monitors. Just as I expected, Kenny was still in his car. There was a chance his frustrating little idiosyncrasies could save his life.

  I counted criminals, then grabbed the walky-talky. “Rick, don’t go out the front. There’s one looking behind the counter right now. Turn around.”

  My eyes were glued to the screens. It was like watching the scariest movie I’d ever seen. A wrong direction from me could get Rick killed.

  “Princess Lay’s palace is clear,” I said. “There’s one in Darth Vadress, but he’s searching the walls. Wait until I say ‘go’.”

  Rick paused at the entrance and glanced up at the camera. The clear view of his face made my heart lurch. The crook was at the far wall with his back to the entrance.

  “Go, now!” I cried.

  Rick dashed across the entrance and waited at the next.

  “He didn’t see you. Hands So Low and Jabba are clear.” I glanced over the monitors. Kenny was still in his car. I counted crooks—one, two, three, four, five… Five?

  I remembered more of Joe’s instructions and pushed the button, changing the views.

  Oh shit! “One is coming up the hall from the dressing room.” I’d been planning to send Rick out that door. “Another is at the Asaj Mistress stage. You’re trapped.” My heart stopped as I watched Rick throw himself against the wall and wait. On the screen next to him, a criminal as big as Rick was walking through the hall toward him.

  As he emerged from the hallway, Rick clocked him with his fist. The guy went down and Rick seemed ready for more action, but the crook was out cold. Rick looked toward the camera and shrugged. Either his fists
were like bricks or he was lucky enough to get a criminal with a glass jaw.

  Glancing at the monitors once more, I said, “Okay, go through the dressing rooms and get out of the building. Asaj guy may have heard something, he’s moving your way.”

  When I saw Rick at the north exit, I switched the camera views back. Kenny’s car door opened. A crutch flailed around clumsily, but I couldn’t see Kenny. Apparently, he hadn’t figured out how to get out of his sports car with the broken leg yet.

  Rick raced across the parking lot, showed his badge and talked into the driver’s side of Kenny’s car. Then he grabbed the crutch from the ground, threw it into the car and slammed the door shut.

  As Kenny’s car raced out of the parking lot, I breathed a sigh of relief. I scanned the monitors for Vegas Police Department cars but saw none. Hadn’t Carl or the security company called this in? I grabbed the phone to call 9-1-1 again, but froze when I saw two of the thugs come out of the front entrance.

  Rick immediately raised his gun and they saw him and put their hands up. Then suddenly Rick raised his hands and dropped his weapon.

  No! Three thugs had come from around the side of the building. I’d been so concerned about Kenny, I’d forgotten to keep tabs on the other men. All six of them closed in on Rick. They seemed to be shouting angrily at him. He dropped to his knees and put his hands behind his head.

  One man held a gun to Rick’s head, his free hand flailing around wildly as he spoke. Were they questioning him? It didn’t matter. Any moment he’d be dead.

  Panicked, I remembered something Joe had pointed out to me. The buttons on the console were labeled, so I scanned the board until I found the one that said, “Outside speaker.” I pushed it and scanned the white buttons on the far right, labeled “Announcements.”

  I reached for that button and held my breath.

  Chapter Seven

  Rick

  “Who sent you? Vere are you from?”

  I skimmed through the options. If they were mobsters, saying I was a cop would get me killed. If I said I worked here, they’d want me to take them to the money, but I’d be taking them back inside where it would be harder for the police to get to them. And would Andrea freak out and open the safe room to try to save me?