Resist (#2): The Riptide Series

by Brooke Page

  Tarby stood instantly, raising his hand. “I’ll take her, for four hundred thousand,” he bided loud and clear. It was the same amount he bid for the previous girl who had similar features to Abby. No one dared to outbid him before.

  Marcus’s eyes widened, his shark of a grin spreading from ear to ear. He knew he wouldn’t get a higher bid, and by the onlookers scrunching their faces at her reaction to the drug, they didn’t even want her.

  I clenched my jaw. Tarby must have enjoyed hurting women, loved hearing her in pain and couldn’t wait to cause more. Fucker was going to get shot in the head.

  “That’s all we have for tonight, gentlemen. Please, make your way to the payment area if you haven’t already,” Marcus motioned to where the bar had been. “Cash only.”

  They fucking blew the sting, and I was ready to beat Marcus senseless. Stepping out of Percy’s reach, I stomped toward the stage, but was stopped by a cane slamming to my chest. Tarby leaned into my ear. “You’re going to want to be on the other side of the room in thirty seconds.”

  I stared at him, baffled. He was in on it. Riley made sure he bought Abby in case something went array, and by the pounding of the door being kicked open, I knew they were here.

  “Get your asses on the ground!” Multiple men shouted.

  Tarby shoved me down, moving quickly on his feet. “Don’t fucking move,” he warned, a Boston drawl to his tone.

  He was undercover.

  The men in SWAT gear blew through the room, their visors low over their faces, guns ready. If a man wasn’t on the ground, they’d put them there. I searched the room, anxious to find out where Marcus was. An explosion went off behind the stage, causing the already chaotic room to burst into more ruckus. Guns began being fired, and poor Abby was still screaming behind the glass, wearing nothing but a lacy black thong.

  “Where’s Marcus?” I shouted over the loud rapid fire. “He can’t get away!”

  Tarby was scanning the room as I was, only he was calm and collected, while I was about to lose my shit. Jumping to his feet, he crouched down and made a run for it. I glanced toward where he was headed, then scrambled to my feet along with him, only to get taken down.

  “No, God damn it, he can’t get away!” I shouted. “Get Marcus, don’t fucking worry about me! I’m not the one you want!”

  “Shut the hell up before I put a bullet in your back,” the SWAT team member screamed in my ear, spit spewing from his mouth and hitting the side of my face. The nose of his gun dug between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the cold stone ground.

  “Get Marcus!” I repeated. “Tarby went after him through the west exit!”

  The SWAT member looked toward the direction Tarby ran, then directed a command into his head set, sure to keep his gun shoved into my back. “He went out the west exit wearing a navy suit. Our man inside is in pursuit.”

  “Let me go after him! Damn it, this was all a set up to take him down!” I growled, then groaned when a boot found my lower back. Didn’t he get it? I wasn’t on Marcus’s side, I wanted him captured more than the rest of these men. If he got away, then the past six months of torture were for nothing.

  “Shut the fuck up. I don’t care which side you’re on, stay the fuck down!”

  I continued to curse profanities, my face beet red with anger. I knew where he would hide, what decisions he would make. Did they have men in a boat by the water? Because I was sure as shit it would be Marcus’s escape route.

  I was roaring now, thrashing against the foot and gun that held me down. He could shoot me for all I cared, if Marcus didn’t get taken down, I might as well be dead. The boisterous noises from the other commotion continued along with my struggle to chase Marcus down, until a blast hit me in the head from nowhere, and all the chaos faded into darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Vance

  I woke behind the bars of a cop car. My head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, a throb pounding behind my temples. When I tried to move my hands to cradle my head, the bite of metal handcuffs tore into my wrist. I thrashed against the seat of the car, wiggling my way until I was sitting upright. Red and blue lights were flashing all over the compound, men in uniforms and suits pacing the area, some escorting workers into cop cars, some lying on the ground with their hands on their heads. Squinting, I searched for the main man this was all about, trying desperately to see where my shithead father was, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  My head thudded on the back of the seat, my eyes closing in frustration.

  I fucking failed.

  Marcus escaped and my mother was still an unavenged victim.

  And here I was, sitting in the back of a cop car with my hands behind my back. This wasn’t playing out how it was supposed to.

  The driver’s side door flung open, Riley in a full-on SWAT suit plopped in the leather seat.

  “Good thing you follow directions so well,” he grumbled, slamming his door and putting the gear into drive.

  “You could have told me I wasn’t the only one undercover,” I muttered.

  “Wasn’t necessary,” Riley snapped. “Hopefully your little tantrum inside won’t ruin your safety, considering it blew your cover.”

  “Is using me as a pawn all you care about?”

  “If I didn’t care, I’d have left you with the other scumbags we grabbed from the Cage. I’ll take you to a hospital, so they can check out the bump on your head. Sorry about that,” Riley added, waving to a patrol officer as he pulled out of the compound.

  “Thanks,” I grumbled.

  Riley could sense my irritation. “You were carrying on like a blubbering moron. I had to shut you up. You’ll be fine.”

  “Should have just shot me,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “Since the whole plan went to shit.”

  “Went to shit? Are you fucking kidding me?” He chuckled. “We got Marcus.”

  My eyes popped opened. “What?”

  “Detective Rover took him down. He’s sitting with his hands and ankles shackled.”

  “Rover? As in Tarby?”

  “You got it.”

  Was he really captured? My breathing was steady, but my heart was still racing. I should feel like a million dollars right now, like nothing could touch me. Marcus would finally be tried and taken down for murdering my mother and for taking lives of many others.

  “So, it’s over?”

  Riley bobbed his head from side to side. “There will be a fallout where his thugs try to continue with Marcus’s business, but it rarely works out. We’ve got too many of his intelligent men, one of them being you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. How did I manage to fool Marcus? Would he know I blew his cover? I wouldn’t care. He was where I wanted him to be, but why was there still a weight on my shoulders? Why was my heart empty?

  “Now what?” I asked, still uncertain this was finally over.

  “You’ll need to be relocated for six months to make sure all of Marcus’s thugs are shut down.” Riley smirked. “Unless, you want a job?”

  I narrowed my eyes, curious what he meant.

  “You know the ins and outs, and although you threw a tantrum in there, it might not get out you’re a ‘snitch’. They’ll look to you for guidance, then we’ll raid them in another swoop when you call forth a meeting. We’ll wipe all of them out.”

  My stomach flipped again. Was this really an option? Did I even have a choice? I was waiting for the catch.

  “It’ll make your record clean,” Riley added.

  I frowned. “I thought giving you Marcus made my record clean.”

  “It’ll be squeaky clean, and you’ll get paid. Might make it so you won’t have to relocate.”

  I remained quiet in the back seat, my hands still cuffed. Why did I feel like I was the one being sentenced? Maybe if I helped finish the job, I wouldn’t feel as empty on the inside.

  ***

  After three months, we had gotten ninety percent of Marcus’s thugs. Marcus hadn’t
gone on trial yet, and I hadn’t bothered to visit him while he waited. No doubt someone figured out I was the bad seed, and I didn’t feel like hearing his threats. Although he was sitting in a cell, and would be for the rest of his life, there would always be someone on the outside looking out for him. I’d have to be on high alert and stay far away from the one person I needed in order to keep her safe.

  I ached for Lauren, wondering what she was doing, if she were happy, how she coped with the loss of her mother, if she thought of me as much as I dreamed about her. I missed her so much that I ran passed YaYa’s house every evening, my heart thudding when I’d glance in her driveway against the setting sun, only for my hopes to dwindle when the white Neon wasn’t there.

  So many nights I wanted to find a payphone and call her. I needed to know she was okay. Colt came back about a month ago, being vague about Lauren and what she was up too. I didn’t pry, I assumed when he said she was doing alright, he was being truthful.

  I, on the other hand, was a mess. Riley was clear it still wasn’t safe for me to contact anyone he couldn’t protect. He knew my enemies would hunt down the people who meant the most to me.

  Yet here I was, slowing my jog when I went passed YaYa’s again, coming to a stop in the cracked concrete. Both my hands found my knees, and I sucked in air as if I had been holding my breath the last four miles. She was gone, never coming back to The Shore, and I might as well take up Riley on his relocation heist. The money would be good, and my life would be flipped upside down from what it had been.

  “Vance Everett? Is there a reason why you’re standing in front of my house?” YaYa shouted from her porch.

  I squinted toward the porch and focused on the dainty Mexican woman standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at me through the screen.

  “Taking a breather, I’ll be on my way.” I waved my hand at her.

  “Nonsense. You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks. Come up here,” she demanded, peddling back into her house.

  I bit my lip, wondering if this were a trap. YaYa hated my guts.

  I’d fought against dangerous thugs, ate dinner next to sex traffickers, and was raised by the biggest demon of all, yet the eighty-something-year-old woman holding her sandal terrified me.

  “I’m not going to invite you in twice,” she shouted from the window.

  Blowing out a breath, I figured I had nothing to lose. Maybe she would scream at me for causing Marcy and Lauren to leave, or spit more hatred toward my father. Hell, she could want to smack me across the face for her own reasons. I ran up the steps, pausing at the door. She opened it for me, her glare in full, sun spots and wrinkles creased around her eyes and face.

  “Have you been spying on me?” she asked, her mouth pressed in a straight line.

  “No, not at all,” I said, holding my hands in the air. “I’ve been running this way lately.”

  “Every day for the past three months,” she grumbled.

  I tilted my head and squinted. Had it been that long? “Your side of town has more to look at.”

  She scowled, her barely-there eyebrows narrowing over her sagging eyelids. “Come inside. I’ve got leftover beef brisket and empanadas.” She waddled away from the screen door into the kitchen. “Sit.”

  I did as she instructed, feeling odd for entering her house in only gym shorts and tennis shoes. It was a hot September day for The Shore, and if I would have known YaYa Contreras would have invited me in, I’d have worn a t-shirt.

  “Drink,” she demanded, handing me a glass of ice water.

  I took it gratefully, gulping it down.

  “How long have you been against your father selling women as prostitutes and sex slaves?” she asked point-blank, scooping food onto a plate.

  I coughed, water spilling out of my mouth. Guess the secret was out. I was the disgrace of a snitch who took down Marcus.

  She turned and set the plate of food in front of me. My stomach growled. It smelled amazing.

  Her hand found her hip, the other holding a fork to my face. “Well?”

  “I’ve never been on Marcus’s side,” I confessed.

  “So, it’s true, you’re why he’s going to rot in jail?”

  “He goes on trial next week, so technically, he’s not rotting yet.”

  She set the fork on the table and leaned into me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Meeting her squinted eyes, I nodded.

  She scrutinized me, then stood tall from the table and went back to the sink. “It’s about time someone on The Shore stood up to him. He got away with murder for too long.”

  He got away with killing my mom, something I’d live with for the rest of my life. Yeah, he was going to jail, but on paper, it wasn’t for murdering my mother. “He won’t be murdering anyone again.” I muttered under my breath. “Might try to kill me through the grapevine.”

  She turned on the faucet and began washing her hands. “I assume that’s why you’re still here and not in Michigan.”

  My head whipped in her direction, a forkful of the delicious smelling food in mid-air.

  She laughed and shook her head, wiping her hands with a towel. “I’m not a fool. I know the look of love when I see it in someone’s eyes.”

  She turned and eyed my full fork. “Eat. You’re wasting away.”

  The side of my lip turned up slightly, and I took a bite full. It was moist and tender, the spices perfect. Not too hot or seasoned. “Wow, this is really good.”

  She smiled, a genuine grin I didn’t think she had in her. “There’s plenty of it now since I’m here by myself.”

  It was my turn to frown. “My bad. We didn’t end on good terms.”

  She took a seat across from me on the tiny table. “No, it’s best for Marcy and Lauren to keep their distance. I worried myself sick almost every night they were out and about, especially if they were out without Colt or you.”

  “Me?” I asked, shoving another fork full into my mouth. “I thought you hated my guts.”

  “I did, but, I also knew you would’ve taken her by the first night if that were your intentions.”

  She stood from her chair, walking toward the refrigerator. “Lauren is a good girl, and if you’re full of issues, it’s best to stay away from her. She has had enough on her plate her whole life, taking care of her mother and all. She doesn’t need to be loved by someone with poor intentions.”

  I swallowed my mouthful of food. I agreed with YaYa, that’s why I’ve kept my distance, along with not wanting her to get hurt. But it didn’t stop the broken record of her face from playing in my head.

  YaYa came back with a piece of paper, throwing it on the counter.

  When I turned my head to look at it, I felt woozy from the words.

  Save the date.

  Below it was a picture of Lauren, and by connecting the dots, the man who had his arms around her was Colby. All the food I had shoveled into my mouth bubbled back up my chest, and I had to focus to keep it down. I held my head with my hand, not wanting YaYa to realize how a picture of Lauren with another man had affected me. “Good for her,” I choked, clearing my throat at the same time and forcing another scoop of food in my mouth.

  “You’re lying.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. So what if I was laying? What was I supposed to do? Throw a fit? Take it and rip it up into a bunch of tiny pieces? She had picked the right man. I couldn’t give her what she needed. Like YaYa had said, she didn’t need any more losers in her life. I was too fucked up.

  I stood, bringing my plate to the sink and began rinsing it.

  “You’re such an Everett. Always trying to hide his emotions,” she scolded.

  I dropped the plate in the sink and spun in her direction. “What do you want me to say? I don’t want her to marry him? You said it yourself, she doesn’t need another screw up in her life.”

  YaYa stood from her seat, raising her chin high. “Do you love her?”

  I closed my eyes and hid my face from her. I fuc
king loved her, more than anything. She gave me breath when I thought I’d suffocate. She was the wind to my kite when I needed to be carried away, the cool sand on my feet, soothing away the blisters and the pain.

  I did fucking love her, but she was in the arms of someone else, and I couldn’t bear to cause her anymore pain. “Thanks for dinner, YaYa,” I said sincerely, making my way toward the door.

  Her tone was strong. “In the twelve years Lauren has been coming to stay with me, I’ve never seen her as happy as she was when she was around you.”

  I stood in front of the screen door, processing her words.

  “Every one of those Spring Breaks and summers, Colby was here with her. He didn’t make her glow like you do.”

  The tightening of my chest wouldn’t go away, and I needed to leave before my emotions got the best of me. “Goodbye, YaYa.”

  Opening the door, I jetted down the stairs, sprinting along the beat-up sidewalk down the touristy strip. My heart was racing faster than my feet, my whole body breaking into a cold sweat. What was I supposed to do? Go to Michigan and beg for her forgiveness? Tell her I was madly in love with her? For the odd chance she did forgive me, would risking her safety be worth it?

  At least I’d get to hold her.

  Make love to her under the stars while the ocean waves sang us their song.

  We could kitesurf on a beach far, far away from this hell hole of a town.

  I’d tell her how she made me feel alive, chasing away my darkness with her light.

  My feet were flying now, the sand skidding underneath the rubber of my shoes. Sweat trickled down my front and back. I was soaked and incredibly hot. Making a quick turn, I darted toward the beach, trekking through the sand and ignoring the throbbing in my calves and hamstrings from the resistance. I chucked off my tennis shoes and socks once I passed the dip of the shoreline, my toes dug deep into the wet grains, waves crashing into my knees.

  It was cold, but the numbness was welcoming, helping to take away the knots of uncertainty. I dove into the water, letting it consume me. It was calm under the roaring waves and tides. I flipped to my back, giving over power to the god of the ocean. I couldn’t handle decisions anymore, and I couldn’t handle life without Lauren.