Pretty Broken Dolls (Pretty Little Dolls Series Book 4)

by Ker Dukey

  “I speak five languages. It’s important with all the medical conferences I have to take part in all over the world.”

  So, who the hell is Viktor? This has to be Harris. He goes by many names. He doesn’t have an accent, though. Fuck. Why is everything so cryptic and complicated?

  With a heavy sigh, I knock on the door before stepping inside.

  “Kami, let me help you and keep you safe. Can you tell me who Viktor is? I can protect you from Benjamin Stanton.”

  She hands me back my cell phone and weakly smiles. “He won’t be a problem for much longer.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Anger flashes in her eyes, but then she closes them, as if to hide the glint. “I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

  Perfect. More of nothing.

  Leaving her to rest, I call Reeves along the way.

  “Sir?” He answers on first ring.

  “Tell me you still have Jacob. If not, bring him back in. I need him for something.”

  I hang up after he confirms and find Maryann jotting down information in a medical file as I approach her. “I need to leave the hospital for a little while.”

  She frowns. “Okay. Do you have a lead on my daughter?” Hope, albeit brief, flickers in her eyes.

  “Possibly,” I lie. “I’m going to have Jade moved down here. Only you are permitted to treat her.”

  “Of course. Go find my girl and I’ll take care of yours.”

  Coming into the precinct, I’m met with concern over Jade and congratulations. As much as I want to revel in the fact we have a son, I can’t. Benny is once again ruining everything for us.

  “Reeves,” I bark, and he jog towards me.

  “Sir, Jacob is in interview room one.”

  I pull out the note Harris gave Josey. I’d already slipped it into a bag when I took it from her. “I need you to take this to the lab. We need dermatoglyphics. I want prints pulled stat. Tell them I need this rushed. It takes priority over everything.”

  “Okay, sir. On it.”

  Making my way to interview room one, I open the door and signal for Jacob to follow me. “I want you to do your hacking thing and to delve deep. Uncover everything you can on Cassian Harris. Go over his history with a fine-tooth comb. All documentation that makes him a US citizen. Scrutinize everything and look for inconsistencies and forged information.”

  I point to the seat at my desk, and he snorts at my software.

  “If you want me to do this, I’ll need my equipment, and I’ll need to be paid for the hours.”

  “How about I just don’t throw you back in jail?”

  “If you want me to do good work, then you need to start sweetening the pot.”

  Motherfucker.

  “Fine. I’ll speak to the department head and see what I can do. In the meantime, I’ll get Reeves to take you to retrieve everything you need from your place. But this is time sensitive. Meaning, the faster you get me this information, the more rewarding I’ll be feeling.”

  I nod our agreement and shoot a message to Reeves with instructions. My cell lights up after I hit send.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Harris,” he says, his voice cold. “I have something. I need you to meet me.”

  Me. Not us. “Where’s Benny?”

  “He’s busy. I need back up. Can you meet me or not?”

  Not. I smell a trap.

  When I don’t reply, he lets out a ragged sigh. A chink in his otherwise impenetrable armor. “Listen, this is important.”

  “Fine, but if this is some sort of tri—”

  “I’ll text the location,” he cuts me off, then hangs up.

  I stare down at the cell wanting to reach through it and break his jaw. The address he sends is one I saw earlier. I quickly check the last place out on our database, and sure enough, it’s one of Jessica’s family’s properties. I confirm with our teams to see whether it’s been searched yet.

  “No, it’s on the list, sir.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I end the call, and despite my better judgment, leave to meet Harris. Alone.

  As soon as I pull into the parking lot of the dilapidated motel, I notice right away one of the doors is open on the second floor and there are no other cars here. My heart rate picks up as I exit my vehicle and draw my weapon. I creep upstairs and sneak into the room. It’s pitch black and I don’t hear any voices or breathing. Just dripping.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  I pull out my flashlight and illuminate the room. It’s dirty and trashed, but someone’s been here recently. Blood coats the mattress, and it still looks wet. I walk over and inspect the mess. Definitely fresh. On the floor, in a shredded heap, is a once frilly dress. A familiar dress. Fuck.

  I yank out my phone and dial the precinct. “I need all units to the Crystalline Hotel, room twenty-six. Get the CSI here stat. The crime scene is fresh.” I grit my teeth. “Looking at a possible homicide.”

  Once I hang up, I swallow down my emotion. Elizabeth can’t be dead. Sure, there’s a fuck-ton of blood, but she’s a fighter. I’ll find her and bring her home.

  My phone rings, and I answer it on the first chime. “What?”

  A chuckle. Cold and empty. “Detective Scott.”

  “Cassian Harris.”

  “Plans have changed,” he bites out.

  A sickness roils in my belly. I shouldn’t have drank so much bitter hospital coffee. “I came here like you asked, asshole. Whose blood is this?” I bark out.

  He chuckles. “I got to her first.”

  “Elizabeth.” I stiffen and let out a growl. “Is she alive?”

  “Barely. So much blood, Detective.”

  “I’m coming to get her,” I snap. “She needs medical attention.”

  “I need something from you first,” he says, his voice smooth and unaffected. No wonder he and Benny get along so fucking well. They both came from the same loony bin.

  “I don’t negotiate with madmen. I already helped you once. I helped Kami.” I don’t tell him how much she could have possibly helped me with finding out who the real Harris is.

  “I need a list of all the properties Jessica Johnson’s family owns. Now,” he barks, his cool persona slipping at the mention of Kami’s name.

  “I’m already culling through them, dumbass,” I snarl. “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing? And if you have Elizabeth, what does it matter?”

  I hear whimpering in the background. Crying. Goddammit.

  “D-Dillon,” Elizabeth sobs, her voice violently shaking. “H-Help m-me.”

  “Shhh,” I coo, my heart hammering in my chest. “I’m going to get you, sweetheart. Hang tight. Can you tell me where you are?”

  A bloodcurdling scream deafens me.

  “LEAVE HER ALONE!” I bellow.

  “You get me Jessica Johnson. Alive.”

  “Is this some revenge bullshit?” I roar.

  “She has something of mine,” he snaps. “And I want it back. You’re going to help me get it back.”

  The flashlight in my hand hits the mirror, the word “revenge” painted on it in blood. There is a fuck more to this story I don’t know.

  “I’ll help you,” I tell him, my voice cold. “Let me talk to her.” The moment she gets back on the line, I try to calm her. “I’m coming to get you, sweetheart. Just hang in there.”

  I trot out of the room and down the stairs to wait on the units. I need to get back to my car so I can try to put a trace on this call. I’m almost to the door when something hard presses into my back.

  “Help me,” Elizabeth pleads into the phone. “Please, Dillon. I need you.”

  “Keep walking,” Harris growls from behind me.

  Fuck!

  If he’s here, Elizabeth is close. With the phone still pressed to my ear, I let him walk me around the side of the building. When my eyes lock with Elizabeth’s, a breath of air is expelled from my chest. But the moment I really get a good look at her, I
suddenly can’t breathe at all.

  She’s dressed like a little fucking doll.

  Pretty hair and makeup.

  No tears at all. No distress.

  A motherfucking accomplice.

  Harris yanks my cuffs from my belt and tosses them to Elizabeth.

  “Cuff him, doll.”

  She beams and bounces forward, her dress blowing in the wind. I’m so stunned, I don’t have words. Harris’s gun will shatter my spine if I fight him and he gets a shot off. Fuck.

  “Sorry, D,” she says softly, “but we really do need your help, and this is just a precaution. Viktor says you don’t like him,” she whispers for only me to hear, and my brain might explode at the revelation of her calling him by that name. So, Viktor is his real name? There’s not an ounce of Russian in his speech. Maybe he was raised here.

  The cuffs snap together and my hands are now shackled behind me. She takes the phone and turns it off before regarding me sadly. Her lips purse together in a pout. “She has him.”

  “Benny?” I ask, my tone incredulous.

  “We have to save him,” she says, her eyes filling with tears.

  Harris guides me over to an SUV and lifts the hatch. He shoves me inside and taps my skull with his gun. The motherfucker looks smooth and composed in a fancy-ass suit Marcus would love. Not a damn hair out of place. “Good dog,” Harris says, his grin wolfish. “You comply and this all ends well, my family for your family.”

  I blink in horror when he curls an arm around Elizabeth and pulls her to his side. He kisses the top of her head and she beams at me.

  “I really don’t want anything to happen to Jade and the kids,” she says softly. “This isn’t about them, I promise. But you need to help us, then we can all be happy.” She bites on her bottom lip and frowns. “Don’t mess up, Dillon. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to them.”

  Jade. My kids.

  A threat.

  “What the hell do you want?” I demand. “I’m not helping you find that monster.”

  “I want Kami back. Where is she?” Harris barks.

  I wasn’t expecting that. “She’s injured. She can’t go anywhere with you.”

  He growls. “I have people who can take care of her.”

  “What about Benny?” I taunt. “He doesn’t seem that fond of her.”

  “Don’t you worry about them,” he tells me, his voice calculating and calm. “Worry about your own family.”

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “Think about it,” he adds.

  Then closes the hatch.

  Fuck.

  Elizabeth

  VIKTOR EVENTUALLY MOVED DILLON TO the back seat, and Dillon has been quiet ever since, which makes me nervous. He’d rattled out Kami’s location, revealing she was in fact at the hospital, just in a different part, surrounded by armed officers. Dillon made it clear we won’t be able to get her, but then he’s been eerily silent.

  As we drive quietly, I can’t help but notice how much pain I feel. My chest hurts from the cuts, but the one that’s the deepest is inside. Benny traded himself for me.

  He loves me.

  When I feel Viktor’s eyes on me, I peek over at him under my lashes. He’s handsome. Like every bit as good looking as Benny, but different. Maybe scarier in some ways, but more refined. As though he’s had years of practice hiding his monsters, where Benny’s roam freely.

  I shouldn’t trust him, but I do.

  His eyes don’t lie.

  The amber flames blaze any time I mention Benny. Love and admiration and need. It makes me curious. I want to crawl into his lap and stare into his honey orbs—to ask him questions about my elusive lover. If anyone knows things about Benny, it’s Viktor. They’re close, I can feel it in my bones.

  “Why would she want him?” I suddenly ask. She said revenge, but didn’t elaborate.

  “She’s bitter,” Viktor mocks. “Benjamin refused to go skating with her.”

  “So, this Jessica Johnson has Benny because he turned her down?” Dillon decides to speak, his question asked in an incredulous tone.

  “Yes. Did I slur?” Viktor snaps back.

  I flinch at his harsh tone.

  “And did she mention the skating, or did he?” Dillon asks.

  “She mentioned it,” Viktor replies. “Why?”

  I glance back at Dillon. His eyes narrow. “Because it must hold more significance.”

  Viktor clenches the steering wheel and a muscle in his neck ticks. “She blames him for what Stanton did to her after he left. He picked her up and raped her.”

  Like a tennis match, my gaze darts back to Dillon.

  Dillon widens his eyes. “I didn’t see that fucking coming, but I’m not surprised. That motherfucker hurt so many women…” he trails off when he realizes he’s talking shit about my father. After clearing his throat, he announces, “There’s a property she acquired after her inheritance.”

  Viktor jerks his head back so violently, I’m afraid he’ll run us into a ditch. “What?”

  Dillon nods.

  Viktor slams on the brakes and pulls out his phone. I lean over to watch as he scrolls through some links a guy named Luke sent him, finding the one that says “Ace Roller Shack” and highlighting it.

  “Motherfucker. The goddamn roller shack,” he breathes in disbelief. “She owns it.” He flashes me a brilliant smile that makes my thighs clench. “She has to have taken him there.” His large hand reaches over, lacing his fingers with mine. “We’re going to get him back. And we’re going to fucking end her.”

  My heart does a somersault.

  “I can’t wait.”

  Viktor

  I PULL UP TO THE building in desperate need of repair. Or a fucking match. It’s a hellhole trapped in the late eighties or early nineties. There is a car here. Not hers, but someone’s.

  “I want you to wait here,” I tell our doll.

  “No,” she immediately barks in response before opening the car door.

  Bad dolly.

  I grab her hand to stop her fleeing, enjoying the way electric energy seems to pulse between us. Her gaze tears from mine and she frowns as she inspects the building through the windshield.

  “But you know what? It’s too quiet,” she murmurs. “What if she killed him?”

  I pull her to my side over the console and hug her, ignoring the disgusted grunts coming from the backseat. “Benny isn’t dead,” I assure her as I inhale her sweet scent. “I can feel it. Don’t you feel it?”

  “This is some psychotic bullshit,” Dillon mutters under his breath.

  Elizabeth nods and lets out a sigh of relief. She lifts her head to stare at me, her plump, kissable lips parted. I want to suck on her bottom one. “You’re right.”

  “Okay, you can come with me,” I concede as I get out the car, never tearing my gaze from her arresting features. Her eyes light up and she smiles at me bright enough to illuminate the darkened parking lot. I wink at her before stepping over to open the back door. Dillon scoots toward me, and I grin at him. “You’re waiting here.” I smack the butt of my gun against his temple, hard enough to knock his big ass out, and enjoy the hum of pleasure when he falls against the seat.

  Keeping my gun aimed and our doll tucked behind me, I creep along the building, trying the doors. None give under my hand, and I’m debating smashing a window when she tugs on my sleeve. I watch with interest as she pulls something from her hair and jams it in the door lock. “I saw this done on YouTube once.” She smiles, jimmying the lock. Well, damn. She is perfect. Her mouth pops open with wonder when she tries the handle and it opens.

  There’s silence stretched out before us inside before a loud crash interrupts it.

  Fuck.

  I hope we’re not too late.

  Picking up speed, my feet carry me toward the sound. There are a set of double doors open and leading into what looks like the warehouse situated at the back of the roller rink. Elizabeth’s body colli
des into the back of mine when I stop suddenly.

  Benjamin lies slumped on the floor, his foot raised at an awkward angle, rope keeping his ankle bound to a pool table while his body has fallen from it.

  He’s naked and bleeding. Open wounds oozing.

  Rushing to his side, I check for a pulse. It’s there and steady.

  Thank fucking God.

  “Unbind his foot,” I order, and she obeys, yanking at the rope.

  “It’s all right,” she coos. “We’re here. We have you.”

  Freeing him, Elizabeth drops down next to me and studies the cuts and slurs marring is flesh.

  “That whore,” she breathes.

  It’s then I realize Jessica is here somewhere. A groaning sound echoes behind us, and both Elizabeth and I get to our feet to seek out who it belongs to.

  Jessica lies sprawled out amongst the crates holding boxes. One of the boxes has torn open and roller skates litter the floor around her. She’s also naked, and there’s signs of intercourse smeared on her spread thighs.

  “She raped him,” I snarl in shock.

  Elizabeth’s eyes expand and dart to mine. A wailing sound rips from her, almost deafening. Her body jolts forward, racing toward Jessica. I start after her, but stop when she picks up a skate and straddles Jessica.

  Smash!

  Smash!

  Smash!

  I watch in sick satisfaction as Elizabeth crushes Jessica’s face with the four wheels of the roller skate. Bone crunches. Groans of pain escape our doll’s victim. Blood splatters.

  “You fucking whore!” she screams as a spray of crimson explodes around her. I lean in closer to discover Jessica’s face is no longer recognizable. Just a hole in her skull of meat and bones and blood.

  Smash!

  Smash!

  Smash!

  Grabbing Elizabeth from behind, I drag her reluctantly from Jessica’s body. Crimson beauty decorates every inch of her skin and clothes. She’s magnificent, and I’m bewildered by this intense need to claim her. I want to tear her frilly panties away and sink my cock deep inside her while I kiss her bloody mouth.

  “Benjamin needs us,” I tell her when she stares at me, the same fire in my eyes shining bright in her gaze.