No! He’s got Elliot’s little daughter and her mother. No.
This.Cannot.Be.Happening.
My hand is at my mouth, stifling a scream. I let it fall, feeling utterly hopeless. He has Elliot’s daughter. She’s not even three years old yet, and she’s in the grip of a monster. This is my fault. This is my fault, dammit! I lower myself into a chair, my insides filling up with dread.
“What does he want?” I ask. Because with Dornan Ross, there’s always a reason behind everything he does. “Is it the money?” He can have the money. He can have every last cent. He can have anything if he just lets those poor girls go. Amy’s my age, and Kayla is three. She’s fucking three, and Dornan has snatched her up with her mother in a bid to get to us.
And it’s worked.
Jase looks down at the table, lacing his hands behind his head, every muscle in his arms poised for a smack down with a person he cannot reach.
“He wants us,” he says flatly. “He wants to do a trade. He’ll let them go if we give ourselves to him.” His eyes flash with rage. “He said he wants his baby back,” he seethes, fixing his eyes on my midsection.
My hands go to my empty stomach as my eyes settle upon the box of ashes that sit on the table. She was never his baby. The sick bastard will never get his hands on my precious baby.
And now, because of him, neither will I.
I hear what sounds like a metallic click, and feel my eyes go wide. Jase whips his head to look at the front door, and before I can even draw a breath, that door is bursting open, wrenched from its hinges.
I stand so fast my chair crashes to the ground, my jaw still open.
What the hell?
And then, before I know what’s going on, there’s a fucking gun in my face and an endless stream of what looks like identical cops, filing through the front door, their weapons aimed at us. The room was always small, but now, teeming with trigger-happy dudes all dressed in variants of the same navy blue shirts and jeans, it’s tiny.
I look at Jase across the table as he’s hoisted to his feet by two burly dudes. As one of them turns, I see CIA written in bright yellow block letters on the back of his dark blue polo shirt.
I try to back up but there’s really nowhere to go. I struggle as hands clamp around my arms, yanking them behind my back. The cuffs are around my wrists before I can utter a single fucking word.
“Juliette Portland,” a voice says at my right, and I turn to see the sea of CIA officers part to reveal a woman clad in the same attire: black cargo pants, a dark blue T-shirt. Her blue eyes pin me to the spot with their ferocious expression.
Yes. She is definitely in charge here.
“You’ve been busy, boys and girls,” she says, making her way to me. “Kicking ass and toppling empires? Really? You thought we wouldn’t find you?”
I snort. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are, lady.”
She smiles; her thin lips make the expression, but it comes off as more of a grimace.
“I’m reality catching up with you, Miss Portland.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Jase demands, still struggling with the four guys who have a grip on him. They can’t get the cuffs on him, and I suppress a snicker when I see his elbow catch one of the dudes square in the face.
The bitch in front of me throws a look of derision at Jase before turning back to me.
“Juliette Portland. You are under arrest for the murders of Chad Ross, Maximilian Ross, Anthony Ross, Michael Ross and Jared Ross.”
As she continues to Mirandize me the room starts to spin.
This can’t be real. It’s got to be a fucking joke.
“…to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used in a court of law.”
“This is bullshit,” Jase yells, but I’m frozen. Holy fuck. After everything that’s happened, is this the way it all ends? With us rotting in matching prison cells?
The bitch continues, “You have the right to consult an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”
Jase roars, some superhuman strength apparently overtaking him, suddenly free and throwing punches. He doesn’t seem to care that there are at least a dozen high-powered assault rifles leveled at the both of us, or that we are grossly outnumbered.
The bitch doesn’t stop talking, though. She just raises her voice over the muffled groans as Jase is tackled to the ground with the help of a Taser.
“Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you,” she finishes with a smirk, “are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?”
“Go fuck yourself,” I spit.
She laughs. “Thought so.”
“Wait,” I protest. “What’s he under arrest for?” I nod my head towards Jase.
The woman laughs. “Collateral damage.”
“Whaa—” I begin, for once genuinely lost for words. “You can’t do that! It’s—it’s against the law.”
She shrugs, her eyes narrowing dangerously. She flicks a glance toward the officer sporting a bloody nose thanks to Jase’s well-timed elbow to the face. “Fine. Jason Ross, you’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.”
It’s a complete fucking farce.
“You’re arresting the wrong people,” I scream, struggling now.
She’s completely unfazed by me. “Let’s go,” she says to her team, and we begin to move with a pace that suggests someone is waiting for us.
Oh, god. Why are they arresting us? Who told them we were here?
“You’re probably not even a real fucking CIA agent,” I spit. “Who are you?”
As they drag us outside and shove us both into separate black Escalade’s with tinting so dark it’s almost as black as the paint, I am screaming inside.
Because if they charge me with those murders and they stick?
I am never going to see the light of day again.
I’m stuffed into Boss Bitch’s car, a token meathead cop in the back seat with me. Not that I even need guarding. I’m cuffed and trapped. Fucking fabulous.
But as Boss Bitch slides into the front passenger seat and fastens her safety belt, her shirtsleeve hitches up to reveal something. A small tattoo, two words that make my heart pound painfully fast. Il Sangue.
“You’re working for the fucking Cartel?” I scream.
She turns and flashes me a dazzling smile, all white teeth and full cheeks, and my heart sinks.
“Of course not,” she says, all shiny teeth and fuck you grin. “We’re the Central Intelligence Agency, darling. They work for us.”
***
A Final Note from the Author
Stillbirth is a tragic and all too common occurance. While I have not experienced the loss of a child myself, I have witnessed the devastation that comes from the birth of a baby who does not make it.
In recognition of this devastating and often unexplainable occurance, and especially given the events that occur in Two Roads, I was moved to take action in some way.
I have donated a camera kit and an inkless print kit to an organisation called Heartfelt, in the hope that some families may be comforted in some small way with the photographs and footprints of their precious baby who has passed away.
Heartfelt is a volunteer organisation of professional photographers from all over Australia dedicated to giving the gift of photographic memories to families that have experienced stillbirths, premature births, or have children with serious and terminal illnesses.
Many NICUs, maternity wards and social work departments have cameras that aren't great, and often due to urgency or location, these cameras provide the only images a family have of their child. The heartfelt camera kit program provides a hospital with a quality compact camera, small printer and an inservice presentation/workshop from a Heartfelt member for the hospital staff about how to take better photos for families.
You can read more about Heartfelt’s camera project here.
the seventh, and final book in t
he Gypsy Brothers series, will be released in November, 2014.
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Lili, together with fellow dark romance author Callie Hart, is hosting an intimate book signing and masquerade ball in New York City in November 2014. Tickets are only $40 and there are plenty of opportunities to chat to Lili and Callie as well as get books signed and be entertained by live music!
For all the details click HERE
Lili writes dark romance. Her debut serial novel, Seven Sons, was released in early 2014, with the following books in the series coming out in quick succession. Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and is loving every minute of it.
Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband, beautiful daughter, watching Tarantino movies and drinking good wine. She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.
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Two Roads Page 9
