True Justice

by Morgan Kelley

She wasn’t gentle. This woman didn’t deserve it. They’d all seen the video of how Molly had been forced to live. There was no mercy for Stephanie.

  There was only intense hate.

  “If you move, I’ll put a bullet in your gut. You’ll die slowly as we watch.”

  She bled on her couch.

  “What do you want?”

  “Rosemary Harrington and Viktor Marchenko. Where are they?”

  Her face said it all.

  “I don’t…”

  He stopped her.

  “Oh, I already know that you’re the pickup location for the girls. I already know that you’ve been selling children, Stephanie. I’m disappointed in you,” he said, sitting down in a chair.

  If he didn’t, he was going to collapse.

  “I didn’t think you’d stoop to that.”

  She said nothing.

  “Who is the mole from law enforcement that made sure the FBI didn’t find out what was going on? Who’s the inside man?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He held out his good hand and Tessa handed him Stephanie’s gun. He was already wearing gloves, so he was ready.

  “One last shot at redemption. Who is involved? We know Rosemary, but where can we find her?”

  She swallowed as she watched him screw on a silencer as her gun was propped between his knees.

  Normally, Dimitri wouldn’t kill someone with witnesses, but he couldn’t do it alone. His body…he was broken. He needed Tessa.

  “Nothing?” he asked.

  She kept her mouth shut.

  He pointed the gun at her leg and pulled the trigger. He blew out her kneecap.

  She screamed.

  Tessa held a pillow over her face until she stopped. She didn’t even bat an eye.

  Yeah, that video of Molly…it made it easy to do this. This was karma for Stephanie.

  She’d earned it.

  “Now, one more try, Stephanie. Where is Rosemary and where is Viktor?”

  “She is on her way to New Orleans. She has business there. I don’t know where.”

  “That was better. Now, how about him?”

  “He contacts me. I don’t contact him. He is a client, just like you.”

  Was.

  Dimitri would NEVER use a woman like he had again. It was a gateway to this mess. He regretted his actions.

  Stephanie did not.

  Clearly.

  “Tell me how you got involved in this, or I shoot you in the head.”

  “I was working the streets, and they needed me to open this business. The Feds were in on it, and I was in the clear. I didn’t know it was going to be children.”

  “So that made it okay to sell people?” he asked. “If they were over eighteen, that was fine?” he asked. “Please, by all means, explain your logic.”

  She said nothing.

  He shot her in the other knee.

  Again, she screamed.

  “We have thirty minutes,” Paris whispered. “You need to move faster. Cars are coming and going on the street.”

  Dimitri picked up the pace.

  “Tell me about the Fed who was under and sold off. Is she still alive?”

  “Yes!”

  “Where?”

  “New Orleans! She’s with a buyer there. He’s not as horrible as some of them. He keeps her locked up. She’s his personal sex slave. She’s not dead!”

  Tessa was ill.

  That had to be a nightmare—for all those months—a trapped animal in some pervert’s cage.

  “Where?”

  She rattled off an address.

  “We’ll rescue Storm St. Clair, but who will save you?” he asked.

  “Please, I’ll blow you! I’ll do anything. Don’t kill me. They made me do it,” she begged, starting to cry.

  He was horrified—not by the offer. He expected her to play that card. She was a hooker. He was horrified that she’d use fake tears. Did she think he was a fool?

  “Who owns the drop spots?”

  “Some man. I don’t know who it is. He bought them to use as storage. We just meet the buyers there.”

  He shot her in the stomach.

  She gasped.

  “Stephanie, you have about thirty minutes until you bleed out. I’d begin talking. You’re going to meet your maker.”

  “You Russian bastard! You’ll never catch him! He’ll kill you before you get away!”

  Clearly, she knew Viktor Marchenko very well.

  This was proof that she was in on it—well, proof enough for him.

  He stared her in the eyes.

  “Die, you fucking asshole. You’re no better than me. You’re nothing! You’re garbage. You’ve killed innocent people, stuck your dick in more pussy that I’ve sold than anyone else. You’re nothing! NOTHING!”

  His hand wavered.

  Tessa took the gun.

  She put one between her eyes.

  “She was giving me a headache. Let’s roll.”

  “Find a binder. Stephanie is hyper-organized. She keeps logs of everything. We also need the security handled.”

  “HURRY!” Paris said.

  She raced to the desk and began digging. When she found a locked drawer, she shot through the lock.

  In it, there was a binder.

  Beneath it, was the DVR with the security footage. She grabbed them both. They were leaving nothing behind.

  “Let’s roll,” she said, dropping his good arm over her shoulder to help him.

  As they headed out, she tossed the woman’s gun, minus the silencer that she tucked into her pocket.

  “Tessa, thank you,” he said, as she helped him down the walkway.

  “My pleasure. It takes a sick animal to partake in what she did. May she burn in Hell.”

  She helped him into the back of her hybrid and jumped into the vehicle. They tore out of there toward the city.

  “You did the right thing,” Paris said.

  Dimitri said nothing.

  Tessa owned it.

  “I killed her, and I’d do it again. She deserved it,” she said, without batting an eye.

  “Oh.”

  He looked at his wife.

  “I have never wanted to have sex more than I do right now,” he admitted.

  That was not what Dimitri thought he was going to say.

  He couldn’t help himself.

  He laughed.

  It was that or cry.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  It was time.

  They were all there, just like the commissioner had said they’d be. All that mattered now was picking who was going first. Since no one had any weapons, Heath Spencer knew he was in the clear.

  It was going to be easy.

  While Heath wanted to make the commissioner happy, he wanted revenge first.

  That meant taking out Emma Croft.

  Only, she was with her son’s wife. The woman was right there.

  Did he wait?

  Did he watch?

  Or did he kill her for being in his way and then take out Emma. All it would take is a slash to the woman’s jugular. She’d never make it to the hospital.

  It was set.

  Kill them both.

  And then run. He’d get the Feds another day.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Commissioner’s Gala

  Greyson and Emma had seen the Blackhawks a few times, but they simply ignored each other. They had to pretend they didn’t belong in the same circles so keeping their distance was a good thing.

  As the commissioner got Greyson’s attention, he headed his way, leaving Emma and Kat to talk. They were like pariah, and only the brave came near them.

  Which was fine.

  That meant they were safe.

  It was just amusing that people were afraid they’d get the ‘crooked’ by touching them. That was okay with her.

  “I’m starving,” Kat said, looking around for a waiter. “All this breastfeedi
ng is a big calorie thing. I need to eat nonstop.”

  “Well, you are as skinny as ever, Katerina.”

  It had been the only thing about her being a mom that had been easy. Losing the baby weight happened fast.

  “Yeah, well, I take after my mom,” she teased. “You’re still skinny, too, and you’re already a third of the way through this pregnancy. The only thing that got big on you was your breasts. How come mine didn’t grow?” Kat teased.

  “No clue, but I’m hungry too. Who drops a pregnant woman at a party without food nearby?”

  Kat spotted someone coming their way. She saw his tray carrying appetizers.

  “Come to momma.”

  “You are definitely perfect for my son,” she teased.

  When she turned around, the man was approaching Kat, and she was focused on the tray. Then something caught Emma’s eye.

  Something shiny in the man’s free hand. It was tucked into his sleeve, and he was on the move.

  Maybe it was the cop in her.

  Maybe it was the woman who loved Katerina.

  “KNIFE!” she screamed, shoving herself between him and Kat, as his arm arced down. She felt it hit. She watched it go through her chest so very close to her heart.

  She felt the stutter.

  The bump.

  Then she felt herself falling as pandemonium broke out around her.

  Elizabeth was drinking a seltzer and juice. She was playing up the sick stomach as she watched security wander around them. Drinking on the job was a bad idea—especially in Vegas. The city was a cesspool. She caught a glimpse of Ivan as he circled her and Ethan. She watched Heath hovering around Greyson as he talked to the commissioner.

  Then she saw Gamble working his way around Emma and Kat.

  Everyone was safe.

  Everyone was accounted for and she was glad.

  As Ethan schmoozed with some man who was talking about a joint venture with him and something or other, she watched the waiter carrying a tray of shrimp towards Emma and Kat.

  Man.

  She was starving.

  Maybe he’d head her way next. The last thing she’d eaten was a cupcake.

  “Hey, Chris, are you hungry?” she asked.

  “You put me on a healthy diet. I’m always hungry,” he said, holding her free hand.

  Something was off.

  She watched the man carrying the tray in front of him with his right hand. It was odd.

  Every other waiter there was holding it in their left and handing out food with their right. They couldn’t all be lefties. Something was bothering her about the waiter.

  He’d skipped three people.

  They looked pissed.

  Then she tracked his path, and it was crystal clear that he was focused on Kat.

  He was focused on Emma.

  Elizabeth dropped her drink on a passing tray and began moving toward the women. Chris was calling after her. The two women were oblivious, and something was off.

  Elizabeth saw the moment when cop kicked in and Emma noticed it too.

  It wasn’t just her. She noticed the guy was off and headed her way.

  She watched her point.

  She heard the scream.

  Then she saw her shove Kat out of the way. There was the glint of the blade right before she saw Emma take a knife to the chest. She pulled her gun.

  “DOWN!” she shouted.

  And then, she took her shot.

  Greyson was busy talking to the commissioner. He was watching his wife, and he only turned his back for one second to listen to the man kissing his ass.

  Only, something wasn’t right. He could have sworn he saw someone who shouldn’t be there.

  Heath Spencer.

  He was almost positive he had just seen Heath Spencer dressed as a waiter.

  As he focused on him, moving through the crowd, Greyson also saw the knife and his wife protecting Katerina. He watched her throw herself protectively in front of her to shield her.

  He watched her go down, and his world spiraled out of control. The gunshot took the man down, but he wasn’t worried about him. His wife was his only concern.

  He pushed through the crowd.

  “EMMA!”

  Elizabeth reached her first. She slid on the floor on her knees and came to stop beside her. Immediately, she dropped her gun as Heath, the bodyguard, not the killer, knelt beside her too.

  “We have to stop the bleeding,” she said, as Ivan pulled off his suit jacket and handed it to her.

  Greyson was there, and he grabbed his wife’s hand.

  “Emma!”

  She looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his.

  “I love you,” she whispered, blood bubbling at the corner of her mouth.

  He kissed her.

  He couldn’t let her go.

  “I need you to fight. I need you to focus on me, and you stay with me, okay? You can’t leave me, Emma. You can’t leave me behind.”

  He was trying to stay calm. He was trying not to lose it, but his wife was bleeding and there was a knife sticking out of her chest.

  Then, Ethan was there.

  “We have an ambulance coming. They’ll be here in three minutes.” He whistled, and Gamble began pushing people back to give them room.

  The commissioner was there, and he looked horrified at what had happened.

  “GET BACK!” Ethan stated.

  The man did.

  Greyson ignored everything around them but his wife. He knew if he looked away for a second, again, he’d lose her. If he blinked, she’d be gone.

  “Fight.”

  She nodded.

  Curtis was there, kneeling by her head.

  “Mom, don’t leave me,” he said, touching her forehead. “You can’t leave me. Sadie needs you. You’re the only mother I’ve ever had.”

  Everyone was thinking about the baby in her belly. That was on everyone’s mind. There was no way their son would survive out of the womb. She wasn’t far enough along.

  Elizabeth touched her cheek.

  “Look at me.”

  She did.

  “I have you. I won’t let you go, but here’s what you have to do. You can’t pass out. You have to breathe. If you stop breathing, your baby will stop breathing. Got it?”

  She nodded, trying to calm down.

  She coughed, and blood came out.

  Emma was thinking about Chris. It was ironic that this was replaying out. She’d lived this with him when he was shot in the chest.

  She knew what was coming.

  He’d died twice.

  The battle was just beginning.

  Emma prayed for a miracle. If not for her, for their child. She needed Mac to live.

  “Keep me on life support,” she said, softly, staring at her husband. “Give our son time to grow. Make them keep me alive until he can be born.”

  “Emma,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “I can’t do this without you.”

  “Grey, you have to do it. He needs you.”

  “Where’s the ambulance!” he shouted. “GET IT HERE!” he shouted. He was about to carry her to the hospital himself.

  “I don’t think it hit your heart,” Heath said, holding the jacket on Emma’s chest. “You’ve got this, Mrs. C. I just quit my job to come work with you. You can’t go. I took the job to be your bodyguard.”

  Elizabeth kept her fingers on her pulse.

  “Ethan, tell them to hurry.”

  He knew what that meant.

  Emma ignored them all and stared into her husbands’ eyes. She was focused on him. If this was it, she wanted him to be her last thought.

  Not fear.

  Not the death of her child.

  HIM.

  “I love you.”

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “Prove it. Show them how badass you are. Prove that our love can beat anything. Beat this.”

  She stared up at the ceiling.

  “I got this.”

  They could h
ear the sirens.

  “Every second counts,” Elizabeth said. “Carry her out, Heath, but do it gently.”

  A crowd had formed.

  “Ivan! Gamble! Clear them out.”

  She tossed Ivan her gun in case there was someone else there helping the dead man. One couldn’t be too sure.

  They began moving them back, opening a path for Heath. They stepped over the dead guy’s body.

  Elizabeth was holding the jacket over her chest. She was the one keeping pressure around the knife. She couldn’t let go.

  Greyson held his wife’s hand.

  He wanted to crack.

  The rage, pain, and fear wanted him to scream but he had to be calm for Emma. If this was it, he couldn’t let her go seeing that.

  They headed out the doors, leaving Ethan to handle the mess. They had to go.

  The media went nuts as Heath met the stretcher. He laid her on it like she was made of delicate porcelain.

  “Help Ethan. I’m good,” she said, as they wheeled her toward the ambulance. The cameras were rolling, and this was going to be tonight’s sound bite.

  They loaded her up, Elizabeth holding the jacket to stabilize the knife.

  Greyson held Emma’s hand.

  “We’re on our way,” the one driver said, banging on the side of the ambulance to signal the driver that they were loaded and ready to go.

  “Mrs. Croft, I’m going to give you an IV.”

  “Are you pregnant?” he asked.

  “Yes, she’s four months. Almost,” Greyson said so she could focus on the ceiling of the ambulance and not waste her breath.

  “Greyson.”

  He leaned closer.

  “Tell Dimitri I love him. Tell Chris…find him and bring him home, and tell him I thought about him.”

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “If I can’t fight, promise me you’ll go on. Promise you’ll fight with the family and not let my death be in vain.”

  He kissed her hand.

  “My sweet Emma, I love you. I’ll fight.”

  He wouldn’t.

  Only, he couldn't tell her that. If she went, he’d have to follow. How did you live if you lost your wife and child on the same day?

  How would he wake in the morning?

  “Tell Kat it’s not her fault. She’ll be upset. Don’t let her carry this. Sadie needs her. Kiss my grandbaby for me.”