“License plate?” Tomas asked.
He shook his head.
“Describe the guy.”
“Skinny, sharp chin, maybe five ten, one-sixty pounds. Greasy dark hair down to his shoulders. Bare chest. Tattooed. Dark pants.”
Tomas sagged. “Dragen. The woman has to be Jovana. He was leading her around.”
“I’ll take a look inside,” the guy said. “We have a female cop missing too.”
“Try the ladies’,” Adam said.
Tomas stared after the man’s retreating back. “Wren could still be in there.”
“You really think so? Marco said you could search everywhere. Would he offer that if you might find her? He’s unlikely to do anything to her inside the club. Why bring a firestorm down?”
Tomas’ head pounded. “Where the hell is she then? Why’s he done this? I‘ll make him tell me.”
Adam caught his arm. “Think what you’re going to say.”
Tomas faced him. “I’m going to say and do whatever’s needed to keep Wren safe.”
“And will telling Marco the truth make that happen?”
“We’re wasting time.” He jerked free and headed toward the club entrance.
“Tomas.” Adam caught up with him. “Don’t make things worse.”
“How could they be fucking worse?”
A few minutes later, he had his answer. There was no sign of Marco, Veton or the women.
Adam could feel Tomas going into meltdown. History was repeating itself. He’d lost Wren five years ago in Venice and now it had happened again, though this time the risk of her dying was tangible. He followed Tomas through every room of the club searching for Wren, trying to find out where Marco had gone, and they came up with nothing.
When they emerged back into the main room, three bouncers surrounded them.
“Leave now,” the fattest one said. “You’ve searched the club. Marco doesn’t want you back.”
Adam grabbed Tomas’ arm as his fist rose.
“Our coats,” Adam said as they were bustled past the cloakroom.
“Manage without,” said one of the bouncers.
They were forcefully shoved out into the night and when Tomas tried to go back to the door, Adam wrenched him away. “Listen. Without proof Marco instigated this, we’re stuck. I understand your reluctance to leave the club, but we’re doing nothing here except winding ourselves tighter. Come on.”
Adam was almost surprised Tomas went with him. “How many houses does Marco have?” he asked.
Tomas sagged. “I don’t even fucking know that. Four in Leeds I’m sure about. I know there are more in Manchester, Liverpool and Newcastle. Christ, what if he’s had Wren taken to another city? He might be going use her for—oh God.”
“What would be the point in Marco taking Wren? To punish you in some way? Because he wants to make you obedient? Because he suspects or knows you’re a cop and he’s getting even? Big risk. Does he know Wren’s father’s a DCS? He’s aware of the exact amount of money Wren had stolen. Maybe figuring out how he knew that will help.”
Adam checked the surrounding area before he approached his car and clicked the remote.
Tomas climbed in and leaned back in the passenger seat. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do other than drive to every house Marco owns and search it.”
“I did the random wandering before and got nowhere. We need to think.”
Tomas arched his hips and eased the phone out of his left pocket just as the sound of shattering glass, his second ringtone, filled the car. He dragged out his other phone.
“I’ll put it on speaker.”
“This is Orange—”
“Fuck off, Julia. I’m on my own. What is it?”
“The woman in the washroom is ours. She says Wren was in there with a girl in a black teddy and a bare-chested guy in black pants. The guy matches the description of the one seen leaving the club with a woman wearing a full hood over her head.”
“The guy’s Dragen. The woman’s Jovana.”
“Well, the woman who left with Dragon wasn’t wearing a teddy. Before she was knocked out, Shelia saw the girl in the washroom holding the hood in her hands.”
Adam’s heart lurched.
“The syringe?” Tomas asked.
“Sheila doesn’t appear to have been drugged. It might belong to someone else. Or it might have been used on Wren. Could take hours to find out what’s in it. We’re looking for all Marco’s vehicles. The DCS is out for blood.”
“I quit,” Tomas said.
“That’s not going to save you. I’ve sent officers to watch Marco’s properties. Have you tried calling any of his girls?”
“No, I‘ll do that.”
“Keep in touch.”
Tomas switched off his phone.
“Call Jovana,” Adam said.
When Tomas tried the phone Marco had given him, it was dead. “Shit.” He pressed buttons and threw the cell down. “He’s blocked voice, text and data.”
Adam started the car and drove out of the car park.
“Where are we going?” Tomas asked.
“Back to the apartment. We need to change. We’re too conspicuous like this. Then we find Marco or Jovana. Maybe we should take a few of his women off the street.”
Tomas clipped his seat belt into place. “Wren would hate having her face covered. That damn hood. She’ll be scared.”
“Yeah,” Adam muttered. He’d been trying not to think about it. “What drug do you think they gave her?”
“I have no idea, but I’m going to kill that bastard Dragen.”
I’ll die if I panic. Wren concentrated on drawing air through the small hole. Slow. Calm. Dragen might be going to kill her anyway but she was determined not to do the job for him. She lay on her back on the rear seat of a vehicle. Dragen and another guy were talking but their voices were muffled. Her head swam as if she were drunk, lights flashed behind her eyes in the darkness and her stomach churned, but the worst thing was she couldn’t move. Not arms or legs. Her phone was in her purse, but she didn’t know where her purse was and even if it had been lying next to her hand, she couldn’t reach for it. Tears sprang into her eyes and Wren gulped. Mustn’t cry. Mustn’t throw up. Mustn’t panic.
Think. But not about Jovana’s treachery. It was hard to keep her thoughts straight. She didn’t know whether that was because of the drug they’d given her or the raw terror pulsing through her veins. How much did Marco know? Better to assume he knew everything—that his business had been compromised, Tomas was a cop and she was a cop’s daughter. Was Marco getting even? Punishing her to punish Tomas?
Wren had never been as scared as this. Not even when she’d been little and deserted by her mother. This thing over her head was worse than the fear of what was to come. She’d do and say anything if they’d take it off.
Panic surged, her heart pounded and she desperately sucked air in short, fast gulps. No, no, no. Slow, steady. Her hands clenched into fists and the sudden realization she’d been able to do that steadied her pulse.
The vehicle stopped. A car door opened and then closed. It felt like someone sat beside her and then something pressed against the hole, blocking her air, and Wren’s heart lurched. A finger? It went away and she gasped. She could die. That was all they had to do. Cover that hole and she’d suffocate. No one knew where she was. No one was coming to save her.
Her throat thickened and she clenched her teeth. Stop it. She wasn’t tied up. If she could get her arms and legs to work, she had a chance. There was always a chance.
“He should have said yes,” said the man sitting beside her. His hand squeezed her breast and she struggled not to react. What am I wearing? Not that dress. There were straps on her shoulders and material between her legs. But whatever it was, it was flimsy.
“I think you’ll persuade him to say yes.” He laughed.
The car door opened. “Done. Got the remote for the parking, codes and the key.”
She r
ecognized Dragen’s voice. The car moved again for a few minutes and then the engine stopped. She was lifted and carried, and stayed limp. No point trying to do anything with this hood over her head.
Cold air on her skin, a door opening then closing, warm air following. Going up in an elevator? But not far. Was this Tomas’ apartment? Or wishful thinking? She was put on the floor and felt boards under her hands. Tomas’ place had a wooden floor. She kept trying to move her arms and legs and knew they were slowly responding. She didn’t want to give away that she was coming out of the haze so she kept still and concentrated on breathing.
A hand on her breast made her jerk and gasp. Something metal pressed against her mouth, blocking her air, and Wren let out a muffled whimper, fought not to flail.
“Should we tie her?” Dragen asked.
The metal went away and she inhaled. A gun?
“Don’t think she’s going anywhere, do you?” said the other guy.
“I want her to suck my cock.”
There was a loud laugh. “Stick your dick through that hole.”
“Ha ha.”
“You listening to us, bitch?”
Wren gasped as something smashed into her ribs.
“Your boyfriend made a mistake,” the same man said. “I heard him speak without his accent. Careless. He should have kept a better watch over you.”
“I really want her to suck my dick,” Dragen whined. “I’ll put the hood on again afterward.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Her head was twisted to one side and she could feel him fumbling. If he put his cock in her mouth, she’d bite it off.
Adam squeezed Tomas’ shoulder as they went up in the elevator inside the apartment block. “Come round when you’ve changed and we’ll figure out the next move.”
Tomas nodded. Adam refused to believe anything bad had happened to Wren. He couldn’t allow himself to go down that path because if anything had or did happen, it was his fault. He left Tomas fumbling with his keys and let himself into his own apartment. Adam closed the door, leaned back against it and a choked moan slipped from his throat.
They should have never gone to Cirque. Why had he let that happen? His guys would be here tomorrow. He should have waited—fuck it. As he walked into his bedroom, he heard a loud thump from next door and suspected Tomas had tried to put his fist through something. That wouldn’t bring Wren back.
As fast as he could, he stripped out of the hardly there pants and pulled on chinos, guilt constantly tightening its grip on his heart. His fingers flying, he fastened his shirt and ran through scenarios and possibilities. If this was about money, it gave them time. Revenge wasn’t so straightforward.
If Marco believed he’d been compromised, he’d have resorted to damage limitation. Mouths would be permanently shut. He shuddered. He hoped the police acted quickly before records were lost and people were moved or eliminated. He needed to move his butt and get back to Tomas fast before he disappeared as well.
Wren’s head hit the floor and she let out a muffled cry. The hood was still in place but looser. The two guys sounded farther away. She pleaded with her hands to move and to her intense relief she was able to lift them. She found laces and tugged. She expected to be hit or kicked at any moment and desperation made her heart race.
Her breathing grew more ragged as she yanked at buckles. When she finally managed to wrench the hood off her head, she filled her lungs and blinked against the light. Tomas’ apartment. She was alone in the living room, lying next to the couch.
There was a loud thud from the hallway and Wren pushed herself into a sitting position. She dragged off her shoes. The heels would slow her down. She struggled to her feet, shaking from head to toe, arms and legs like a newborn foal’s. The men who’d taken her were in the hall. She had to get past them to get out of the apartment. The river wasn’t a good option. Maybe if she rushed, screamed… She heard a cry from the hall, knew it was Tomas and clapped her hand to her mouth.
Her first inclination was to rush to his aid but she’d be useless against two guys. She needed to get help. Wren stumbled to the patio doors. She twisted the lock, slipped outside and closed the door again. There was space to hide out of sight of anyone in the room, but how long before they looked for her here? And how could she hide when Tomas was in danger?
Wren opened her mouth to scream and spotted the light shining from Adam’s apartment. His balcony was five or six feet away. There was no time to think about it. She climbed up on the rail, her hand against the wall to steady herself. Adrenaline and fear gave strength to her wobbly legs and she jumped.
For one heart-stopping, gut-wrenching moment Wren thought she wasn’t going to make it. Her toes snagged on the metal rail but she had enough forward momentum to propel her to safety and she crashed onto the wooden deck, landing just short of the table and chairs but scraping her arms and knees. Not quite Spider-Woman. Biting back her yelps, she pushed herself up, dragged open the door and threw herself inside. When she saw Adam, she collapsed.
“Wren! Oh my God.” Adam ran over and dropped beside her.
“Police,” she gasped. “Dragen and other man. Got Tomas.”
Adam pulled out his phone and tapped 999. “Police,” he snapped. “Apartment 17 C, 7 Dock Street. Attempted murder. The guys are still here. Be quick… Yeah, yeah. Adam Kesey, I live next door. Hurry. Tomas is an undercover cop. Speak to DSI Julia Markham.”
He passed the phone to Wren. “Talk to them. I’m going to help Tomas.”
Wren pressed the phone to her ear. “Please hurry. My name’s Wren. My father’s DCS Ellis. They’re going to kill Tomas. They nearly killed me. I’ve got to call my father. Sorry.” She broke the connection and called her dad.
“Hello?”
When she heard his voice, she whimpered. “Dad.”
“Wren?” her mum gasped.
She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She dashed the tears from her eyes.
“Wren. Are you safe?” her father asked.
“Yes.”
“Thank God.” Her mum let out a sob. “We’re driving to Dock Street.”
“Dad, Tomas is being held in the next apartment by two guys. Dragen’s one. Don’t know the other. Big, bald man. They’re going to kill him. Adam’s gone to help him. They’re going to kill him too. Please, hurry.”
“Calm down. Stay where you are. Do not leave the apartment. Help’s on the way.”
Wren took a deep breath.
“Keep talking to me,” her mum said. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yes.” Wren looked at the wall keeping her from the guys she loved. “Sorry,” she whispered and ended the call.
Adam banged on Tomas’ door. He’d tucked a kitchen knife into the back of his pants and he held an open bag of flour. It had been the first thing on hand. His aim was disorientation so he could get into the apartment and work out what was going on.
“Tomas,” Adam yelled. “I need to borrow your iron, mate. I know you’re in there. I heard you come home.”
He kept banging and shouting, wondering if he could spring the door open with a well-placed kick. Then it opened and Adam threw the flour, smacking the bag over the bewildered guy’s head. As the dark-haired man staggered backward coughing, Adam slammed his fist into his gut and followed that up with more blows as the guy choked and spluttered. Once he’d knocked him to the floor and it didn’t look as though he was going to get up, Adam rushed into the lounge. The bald man who’d talked to Tomas in the pub stood there. No sign of Tomas.
“Where is he?” Adam snapped.
“Tomas? He just stepped out.”
Adam heard a loud splash and his heart sank. Had Tomas been holding on and let go while he’d fucked round in the hall? As he ran toward the balcony, the guy grabbed him. Fueled by pure fury, Adam drove his fist into his throat and jerked free. He stepped through the open door, looked down into the river and saw Wren struggling to keep Tomas afloat. Adam didn’t hesitate. He jumped.
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Shit, shit, shit. The water was cold. His feet tangled in something and he kicked out, relieved when he tugged free and his head broke the surface.
“Wren, hang on,” he shouted and splashed his way toward them only to see them disappear under the water.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Adam powered through the black water to the spot where Wren and Tomas had gone down and dived below the surface. He swept his arms from side to side and to his intense relief snagged a sleeve. He yanked and kicked out, dragging Tomas up, even more relieved to see Wren holding onto him. Tomas was barely conscious, too disoriented to help himself. Wren was coughing.
“Don’t fight the river,” he said. “Just relax. Don’t let go of Tomas, but let me support him.”
He looked around but could see no obvious way to get out. The river was walled where it ran through the city. As he turned, he glimpsed a flash of light from the apartment building they’d jumped from, heard cracking noises followed by several splashes in the water around them. What the fuck?
Wren gasped. “They’re shooting at us?”
“Kick toward the opposite bank,” he said. “Keep your face that way.”
Her silver hair was like a beacon but Adam had no way to protect her. There was a bend coming up. Once they’d rounded it, they should be safe from bullets at least. Although not the river. He’d taken a walk the day he arrived and was pretty sure there was no way to climb out for a few hundred yards. He started to shout for help and Wren added her voice.
“Cold.” Her teeth chattered.
“Don’t you dare let go.” Adam tightened his grip on Tomas. “I can’t hold him on my own.” He could, but he didn’t want to have to pick which of them to help. I can’t choose.
He became aware they were gradually being swept toward the opposite side of the river and when he saw a life buoy hanging from the dock wall, he kicked harder.
“We need to get to the side,” he told Wren.
Tomas began to come round and flailed.
“Don’t struggle.” He grunted as Tomas kicked him.
He realized they’d miss the first buoy but there was another about twenty yards away.
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