“Got it.” She disappeared again to make the call to Blackhawk Security.
Ian snatched a landline phone from the table and started dialing, then glanced at Jake. “You’re in luck. Archer lives in Colorado Springs, not far from her. Where exactly is she? I’ll see if he can intercept and lock her down until you get there.”
Jake handed over a piece of paper where he’d written the cell number she’d given him, then interrupted her renewed pleading. “Alyssa, I swear, I’m coming to get you, but I’m sending someone closer to look after you until I get there. His name is Pete Archer and he’s a good friend of mine from the Navy. You can trust him. He’s going to keep you safe, but I have to know exactly where you are. Do you know the name of the park you’re in?”
“Y-yeah. It’s the C-Centennial Park, but I forget what street it’s on. It-it’s about six blocks from our house.”
“Centennial Park, okay, good. You’re doing great, sweetheart. Now, are you well-hidden? Did they see you? Were you followed?” He needed to get as much from her as he could, in case they lost the connection.
“N-no, no one followed me and I-I don’t think…I don’t think they saw me.”
Jake took the note Ian handed back to him with his own scrawl added on. He read it, then raised an eyebrow at his boss. When he mouthed ‘forty-five minutes’, Ian grimaced and nodded. If that was the best they could do, he’d have to take it. “Alyssa, listen to me, sweetheart. Stay where you are. I have to hang up now…”
“No! Don’t hang up, Jake! Please don’t hang up. I…”
“Sweetheart, I have to. I have to get to the airport and fly out to get you, but I’m going to have my friend call you right back. Remember? His name is Pete Archer. He’s going to call you as soon as I hang up and he’s about forty-five minutes away from you. I’m going to text you his picture, so you can recognize him. He’s going to stay on the line with you until he finds you. Okay? And he’ll keep you safe until I get there in a few hours.”
“O-okay, but hurry.”
Jake’s heart was breaking for the teenager. She’d been through so much already. “I will, Alyssa, I promise. Now, hang up so Pete can call you.”
“Okay, hurry.”
The call disconnected and his worried eyes met Ian’s. “Can you send her a photo of Archer? And put a trace on her phone in case we lose her?”
His boss nodded and began typing again. “Give me a sit-rep while I’m doing this. I vaguely remember her case. Runaway, about a year ago, right?”
Running a hand through his hair, Jake paced the length of the room while the others watched in silence. “Yeah. Alyssa Wagner. Her father’s a local businessman with political ties to the mayor and governor. He reported her as a sixteen-year-old runaway, claiming she took off after being grounded for missing her curfew a few times. Turns out he was sexually abusing her for years.” Muttered curses filled the room. If there were two things the men of Trident hated more than anything, it was rapists and child abusers—Oliver Wagner was both, which made him the scum of the earth. “A few days into the investigation, when I managed to get a chance to talk to the mother alone, she broke down and told me the truth. Carrie was terrified of the asshole. The whole meek, submissive, ‘he’s going to kill me’ thing was going on, so I offered to help her and her daughter get new identities.”
Ian knew what he meant by that, but the others weren’t aware of Trident’s resources yet, so Jake filled them in. “There’s a group called ‘Friends of Patty’. A few women started it years ago after a friend of theirs was killed by an abusive husband. They now have contacts all over the U.S. and it’s run like the old Underground Railroad. Female victims of abuse are given the means to escape and start new lives. And I tell you, this group would give the U.S. Marshals a run for their money. They’re that fucking good.
“Anyway, Alyssa’s mother knew where her daughter was hiding. She was with an old college friend Carrie hadn’t seen in years, but kept in contact with, without the husband knowing. Wagner hated the woman and forbade Carrie to stay in contact, but she did anyway. The friend lived in Georgia. I went up there, got Alyssa, and set them up with Friends of Patty. Same rules as the Marshals—name changes, no contact with anyone from their previous life, etcetera. I gave them my cell number for emergencies only and this was the first I’ve heard from either of them.” He stopped pacing and clasped his hands behind his head in frustration.
“Alyssa says she went to work waitressing at six this morning and forgot something—a baby’s gift—she wanted to give one of the other waitresses. About an hour into her shift, she got a break to run a few blocks home and saw a strange car parked across the street. For some reason it set off her inner alarm and she snuck around to a window at the side of the house. Her mother was dead on the floor, shot in the face, and two guys were tearing the place apart. She’s hiding in a nearby park now.”
Colleen stuck her head in the doorway. “Mr. Dixon said the plane is no problem. It’ll be ready when you get there. And you owe him—again.”
Waving his acknowledgement at the efficient secretary, Ian stared at Jake. “All right, what’s the plan after you recover her?”
He planted his hands on his hips. “The safe-house for now. Can you send Pete a text and tell him to put an anonymous call into 911 after he gets Alyssa? Have the police go to her house, so they can get the ball rolling on an investigation.” Ian nodded. “Then we need to figure out if this is a random burglary gone wrong or did her father’s people find her. And if they did, then how? Once we know what we’re dealing with, we’ll go from there.”
“Good. Dev called this morning and said they finished early. They’ll be back sometime tomorrow. I’ll have Egghead start investigating things while he’s in the air.”
“Egghead?” Foster asked. He’d only met five of the six members of Trident’s Alpha team on previous visits and some of them had just been brief introductions.
“Brody Evans is our resident geek. If the information is out there, he’s the man who can find it.”
The Omega team member nodded. “Okay. Do you want us to go with Donovan? At least until the rest of his team can catch up?”
“I’ll go.”
Ian and Jake’s eyes flashed at Nick in surprise.
“What?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got nothing else going on for the next few weeks. And I’m damn good at watching someone’s six. Uncle Sam trained me, remember?” He may be sarcastic and cocky, but he spoke the truth. Nick went through the same BUD/s training as everyone on Trident’s Alpha Team and none of them would have any problem with him covering their asses.
The two men stared at each other for a moment before Jake nodded his assent to his boss. Ian glanced back at his brother and then the others. “Okay. Smartass and Cain, you two are with Reverend. McCabe, you’ll stay here with me. I know you’re good to go, but I’m not sending you on assignment until you get your final medical clearance tomorrow.” The man tilted his head in understanding, but it was obvious he wasn’t happy about it. “Jake, make sure they’re suited up before you leave—vests, headsets, the works—just in case. Nick, you carrying?”
“No. Too much of a hassle on a commercial airline.”
“Okay, we have an arsenal for you to choose from. I’m sure you’ll find something you like.”
The corners of Jake’s mouth twitched when Nick grinned. He was going to be like a kid in a candy store when he saw the selection of weapons Trident kept in a walk-in vault. If the situation wasn’t serious, Jake would’ve laughed at the younger man’s enthusiasm. “Let’s move.”
CHAPTER 7
The phone call ended and Alyssa prayed with all her might that it would ring again. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks. She was terrified and Jake’s voice had been a lifeline to hold onto, but now, the silence was driving her crazy. Hopefully, no one would need to use the park’s bathroom at this time of the morning, but there were two other empty stalls so she could stay locked behind the one she was
in for now.
Her body wouldn’t stop shaking and she wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to hold it together. She trusted Jake with her life because he’d saved her once before. If it hadn’t been for him, she never would’ve had this last year with her mother. Instead, she would still have been living with her mom’s friend or someone else. The woman had been nice, but Alyssa had missed her mom. And now her mom was gone. What was she going to do? She had no one else left in the world except her bastard father, and she’d rather be dead then return to him.
Her phone rang, the shrill tone echoing throughout the brick enclosure. She recognized the number’s area code as being from Colorado Springs. “H-hello?”
“Alyssa? My name is Pete Archer. Jake gave me your number. I’m on my way to get you, honey, but it’s going to take a while to get there. How much battery time do you have on your phone?”
She pulled the phone away from her ear and checked the screen. “It’s almost fully charged.”
“Good. Keep checking it, because I don’t want to let it run out until I reach you and can get you somewhere safe. Stay on the phone with me and let me know if anyone comes near where you’re hiding, okay?”
“O-okay. Please hurry. I’m s-scared.”
The man’s voice softened. “I know you are, sweetheart. But I swear, Jake and I are going to help you and anyone who wants to hurt you is going to have to go through us first. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
If Mr. Archer was anything like Jake, she knew he would keep his promise. She just hoped he got there before the men who killed her mom found her. “H-hurry.”
* * *
Three hours later, Jake, Nick, and Cain were soaring through the air at 41,000 feet, somewhere over the Mid-West. The private jet they’d borrowed from Blackhawk Security was similar to Trident’s own. There were three rows of first-class-style seats with two seats on either side of the aisle. Behind them was a large sitting area with couches, recliners, tables, and a wide-screen TV. A fully-stocked kitchen and bathroom were located in the rear of the plane.
With a set of noise-cancelation headphones on, Cain was dozing in a first row seat, while Nick browsed through the TV channels from one of the couches. It was one of those days when there was nothing good on. Jake hung up the jet’s phone and stood from his recliner. Nick’s head swiveled to face him. “What’s up?”
He walked back to the kitchen and grabbed two sodas from the mid-size fridge as he spoke. “Pete has Alyssa hidden at his place. He’s positive no one was on her tail. Placed the 911 call and had a buddy he trusts wait up the street for the cops to show up. The problem is—Carrie Wagner wasn’t there. From what Pete’s friend could find out, the place is trashed, but there’s no body. Whoever killed her doesn’t want her found.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed in confusion. He wasn’t used to regular civilian crime scenes. In his job, it was rare to take a dead body from where it originally dropped. And usually, he was the one dropping them. The only exception was if it was a member of the United States military killed in combat. Then every attempt was made to bring the fallen home for a proper burial. “Why take the body? I don’t get it.”
Handing Nick one of the cold Coke cans, Jake remained standing. “Taking the body doesn’t surprise me…if this is the work of Oliver Wagner or one of his minions, which I’m pretty positive it is. When his wife and daughter took off last year, the story was they disappeared while on a road trip somewhere between Tampa and Albuquerque. That’s where his mother-in-law lives, but she and Carrie weren’t close anymore. There were the usual pleas for help on TV, search parties, the works, but it slowly drifted away from being front page news. Wagner’s lawyer alluded to Carrie running away with a guy she was allegedly having an affair with and that she was mentally unstable. All false accusations.”
Nick popped open his can and took a sip. “What about their car? Didn’t someone find it?”
“Nope. APBs on their vehicle were moot because I took it to a chop-shop. I knew if Alyssa and Carrie were ever found, he would have them disappear for good. He couldn’t risk either of them telling the press he molested his own daughter when he’s got political aspirations of his own. Getting rid of Carrie’s body would prevent any connection between her alias and real name. Then, as far as the public is concerned, it’s just another unsolved mystery—and he garners the sympathy vote. The big question is, if Wagner is behind this, then how the hell did he find them?”
“Damn, there’s fucked up people in the world.”
Jake snorted. “You’re just figuring this out, Nicky-boy?”
After flashing his eyes toward the front of the cabin, he glared at Jake. “Can you knock off the ‘boy’ shit?”
The Dom straightened to his full height and crossed his arms. It was time to set some ground rules with the kid. Besides, it would give him something else to do other than worrying about Alyssa. “The guy is snoring with headphones on. Trust me, I’ve flown in jets like this for the past four years. He couldn’t hear me up there even if he tried. And you’re nine years younger than me, frog. No one would think twice about me calling you ‘boy’ the way I just said it. I would never embarrass you inside or outside of a D/s setting. Not in front of people you barely know, and especially not in front of a team member. I’m not into public humiliation. Now, in private, it’ll be a different story. I’ll call you anything I want. I’m a Dom, through and through. And if you want a relationship with me, you will be submissive and I’ll treat you as such. Take it or leave it. It’s the way I am, and the way I’ll always be. Understand?”
* * *
Shit! If anyone else said those things to him, Nick would’ve been pissed off as all hell. They’d get a ‘fuck you’ response and a possible right hook. But with Jake, he wanted to say ‘fuck me’ instead. The Dom was glowering at him and, without a conscious thought, Nick lowered his eyes to the floor. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Not good enough. You were told the proper way to respond to me when we’re in D/s mode.”
His eyes flickered toward their sleeping teammate again and then to the man standing over him. “I understand, Sir.”
Relaxing his stance, Jake gave Nick a leering grin. “Better. You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now. Have you ever been inducted into the Mile-High Club?”
Heat built in Nick’s veins and groin. “No…Sir.”
“Well, we’ll have to rectify that…someday.” He sat on the couch, close enough where he was in Nick’s personal space, yet far enough that Cain wouldn’t suspect anything if he woke up. “But for now, we’re going to discuss a few rules. You can relax and drop the ‘Sir’.”
Nick swallowed hard and tried to keep his body from reacting to the Dom’s nearness—a near impossible feat. He knew the lifestyle had a lot of rules, but each relationship was different and so was each couple’s rules. What worked for one couple, didn’t always work for another. “Okay.”
“Rule number one—your orgasms are mine. There will be no jacking off in the shower, or anywhere else, unless I give you permission. If I find out you can’t keep your hands off what is now my property, then there’ll be consequences.” He waited until Nick, eyes wide in disbelief, slowly nodded his assent. “Rule number two is what I just told you. When we’re playing, you’ll call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ and I’ll call you anything I want. If something I use bothers you, tell me, and we’ll discuss it. I may or may not change my mind depending on your reasoning. Number three—presenting. When I tell to you present for me, the position is on your knees, legs spread as far as you can without being uncomfortable. Hands in ‘at-ease’ position behind your back and head bowed. I’ll let you know beforehand whether you need to strip or not.”
The rules weren’t as bad as Nick had expected. Well, at least the second and third rules weren’t, as long as it was all done in private. Rule One? No hand-jobs? Shit. He was a healthy, red-blooded, twenty-five-year-old male—jacking off was almost a daily occurrence
. Case in point, he’d done it last night in bed, and in the shower again this morning. How the hell was he supposed to stay sane without it? Well, maybe if he was having sex on a regular basis, it would be doable. “Okay. Is that it?”
“Nope, not even close, but it’s a start for now. As things come up, we’ll add to the list. But don’t think you don’t have a say in this. If a rule really bothers you—and not just because you don’t like it—tell me and we’ll talk about it.” Jake paused, his gaze on Nick’s face. His expression then softened as he asked, “Have you decided how you’re going to come out to your folks and brothers?”
Picking at the soda can’s pop-top with his fingernail, he shook his head. “No, not yet. I mean…I can’t see them having a problem with it, especially Ian and Dev, but to actually say the words to them…it’s hard, you know? How did you come out to your family?”
Leaning forward, Jake rested his elbows on his knees and sighed heavily. Nick instantly knew what the man was going to say wouldn’t be pleasant. “I didn’t. Somehow my dad found out my senior year of high school and went ballistic. He was a fucking bigot—plain and simple. Gays, blacks, Asians, Jews, etcetera. If you weren’t straight, white, Catholic, and a Democrat, you were fair game for his contempt and vile insults.”
“What happened?”
Taking a sip of soda, Jake seemed to disappear into the past for a moment. “I was the starting quarterback for my high school. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“We were undefeated my senior year. All three years I was on varsity, we went to the state championships and we won two out of three of them. My father was always on the sidelines, yelling louder than everyone else. I was the golden boy. I had scouts at almost every game my junior and senior years, and they were all throwing scholarships and incentives at me. I even had a few pro teams checking me out for future drafts. I finally decided on Rutgers and was getting a full ride. The old man was over the fucking moon.”
Topping the Alpha: Trident Security Series Page 5
