by Aimee McNeil
Evan nodded, his eyes sliding between Teddy and Jackson, who were both looking at him for confirmation he wouldn’t screw things up.
“You’re good, man,” Teddy confirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring shake.
“Let’s go. Stay tight,” Jackson started. The others were already moving toward their positions. Staying close to the treeline, Jackson headed toward the rear of the large property. The building was lit up with surveillance around the entire perimeter.
Haffey’s voice buzzed in Jackson’s earpiece. “Stay in position until my signal.”
“This place is lit the fuck up,” Evan said, ducking down behind brush for cover.
“You’re staying right here and will be our eyes on the outside.” Jackson pulled out binoculars and began scanning for bodies on the outside of the building.
“I thought I was coming in?”
“You are staying right here so I don’t have to drag your dead body out.” Jackson shook his head. “Fox Trot. Ready to dance. Over,” Jackson said into his radio.
“Roger, waiting for the music. Over,” Sieks’ voice responded promptly before cutting out.
“Set the mood, Teddy,” Jackson said with a nod.
Teddy dropped his backpack on the ground and pulled out a laptop. Lying flat on the ground, he booted it up and began typing away. Jackson kept his eyes on the building, watching for any signs of movement. A back door opened, and a man walked out carrying two large garbage bags.
“We got one taking out the trash.” Jackson kept the man in his sight. He watched the man throw the two bags into a large dumpster before returning inside. “Clear,” Jackson said as soon as the door closed.
“What’s Teddy doing?” Evan whispered.
“What he does best.” Jackson grinned. “Any minute now, Teddy.”
“Got it.” As soon as Teddy said the words, the exterior lights all shut off, leaving the building in complete darkness.
“This is our song. Over,” Haffey said through the radio.
“We’re up, Ted,” Jackson said, sliding the earbud to the iPod in his right ear, tucking the device in his chest pocket. The comforting sound of his music flowed through his body. He had never heard it so clear. The constant buzz in the background was gone, and he was left with sharp clarity. Jackson closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“You’re listening to music now?” Evan asked in disbelief.
“Fuck off,” Jackson responded as he picked up his gun.
“How can you hear with one ear plugged into tunes?”
“I can hear,” Jackson said.
“That music fuels the unstoppable beast. It is a thing of beauty. Don’t touch my stuff while we’re gone or I will kill you.” Teddy gave Evan a slap on the back before he followed Jackson. They moved through the thin barrier of brush onto the open pavement surrounding the building.
Guns in hand, they moved silently toward the building. Jackson took sight of Sieks and his men moving in on the west side of the building. Jackson and Teddy made it to the rear entrance just as the back door opened again. They pressed their bodies behind the opening door.
“I can’t see shit,” the man cursed. Jackson reached around the door and grabbed the man by the neck. He shoved the door closed and sank his blade into his throat. He was taken by surprise and didn’t even attempt to struggle. Teddy grabbed the dead man by the shoulder and hauled him back against the building and out of sight.
Jackson grabbed the handle and slowly opened it. They had studied the blueprints of the building and knew the general layout, but they were blind to what they were about to face upon entering. Jackson and Teddy were joined by three other men as they walked into the narrow hallway. Guns raised, they headed in the dark interior except the emergency lights that cast an eerie glow along the ceiling.
The powerful voice centered him as the music pumped through his blood. The men inside these walls would be well armed. They knew John’s crew well enough to know they all packed heavily. It was a necessity for their line of work. Jackson led his group down the hall and veered to the left. Three men were gathered in the center of the hall. Jackson motioned for his men to stand back. He approached alone. One man held a flashlight and shone it toward Jackson as he approached.
“Hello, boys,” Jackson greeted slyly.
“Who the fuck are you?” one of them questioned. Jackson withdrew his blade and watched their postures stiffen. There was no need to alert everyone in the building just yet with gunfire. He dove into the group with his blades extended. The men scrambled for their guns, but Jackson was too quick. His blade cut across the throat of the first and impaled the chest of the next. The last managed to retrieve his gun. Jackson tried to knock it out of his hand before he could pull the trigger, but the shot rang off, embedding in the wall next to Jackson. Jackson threw his knee into the man’s stomach. Pulling out his own gun, he placed it under the man’s chin and pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed over the wall behind him. Jackson scanned the hallway. They would only have minutes before more men starting pouring in.
“Shit, man,” Teddy whispered beside him.
“Let’s keep moving.” Jackson waved them forward as they stepped over the bodies and continued down the hall. When they turned the corner, six armed men approached. Gunfire erupted immediately. Jackson dove across the open hall and into an alcove on the opposite side. He leaned around and began firing at the men. Bullets tore through the air, tearing through walls and bodies, spraying debris. Jackson didn’t stop firing until all the bodies were dropped. Motioning his men toward the common room, they indicated the target area from the blue prints.
They moved down the hallways clearing all rooms before moving onward. Some of the rooms were set up as temporary offices, while others were empty. The hall opened up into a large open warehouse space. Large pallets of boxes were piled high, filling most of the area. It made perfect cover for the men taking aim at them.
Jackson ducked when a bullet came dangerously close to his head, shredding the wall beside him. He could feel particles spray against the back of his neck. He moved for cover behind the nearest stack of boxes. Readying his gun, he shot a man who stepped into his line of sight. A new flurry of shots erupted. The men were cornered and lashing back in a last attempt at self-preservation; it was only a matter of time before John’s men would have to admit defeat. Jackson shot at anyone who dared show himself.
Jackson dropped to the ground to reload his gun.
“We have a man down,” Teddy said. He was on Jackson’s left, giving him cover. Jackson looked over to see one of their guys slumped against the wall. He didn’t know him well, but he remembered his name from Haffey’s team. He had a wound that looked like it pierced through his shoulder.
“Mark?” Jackson called to him.
He lifted his arm in a wave, indicating he was all right. Jackson snapped his clip in his gun and stood up. After taking down a few more targets, the gunfire died off. With a readied gun, he moved in closer, weaving through the boxes. Silence began to rain down heavy in the large space, allowing him to hear the hushed frantic whispers of the remaining men. He stepped out into a small clearing, his gun trained on the men. He knew as soon as he looked into their eyes that these men were too scared to fight back. They surrendered, throwing down their weapons. Teddy walked up beside him. “Looks like the party is over, boys.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Lexie
Lexie pulled a simple black dress over her head and smoothed the material over her curves. It practically sang against her skin. No wonder her mother fell victim to the charms of this life before it reared its ugly head. Lexie was not naïve to the truth. She would not let anything but hatred color her vision of John.
She searched the entire room, but the only clothes she could find were dresses. She chose the most practical of the selection after deciding not to put her soiled clothes back on. The cut of the material fit her as if it was specifically made for her. She opted out
of the shoe selection and wore her flats. There was no way she was wearing heels. She needed to be prepared for anything.
Once Lexie was ready, she sat down on the bed. She had no idea what time it was because there was no clock. She grabbed the remote control off the entertainment unit and tried turning on the television, but it was channel after channel of static. Turning it off, she threw the remote against the wall as hard as she could, shattering the back and sending the batteries scattering across the floor. She lay back on the soft mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Exhaustion was pulling at her consciousness. Her body felt heavy and sluggish, and she could feel the desire to close her eyes growing strong, but she continued to fight it.
She wanted to be able to look into the face of danger like Jackson, not fearing it but embracing it. She couldn’t afford to be scared anymore. Being scared would only get her and others killed. She knew that better than anyone. Lexie was done being a victim, and the thought gave her some peace of mind. Whatever John had planned, she would be ready for it. She would not go down without a fight.
She focused on her anger with John for imprisoning her mother and her, for believing they were his to control. The words in her mother’s diary haunted her. She knew now without a doubt that every word her mother wrote she had paid for in blood. This man was the embodiment of evil, and she was terrified of what would become of them if they could not escape. The only thing Lexie knew for certain was that she would not write about her fear…instead, she would turn her pen into a weapon and fight her way out of this place.
She was also angry with Jackson. She couldn’t deny his deception. The truth was staring her in the face. She felt like the sliver of light he had shown her was torn away and she was left exposed and vulnerable. She tried to rationalize his behavior, tried to think of something to give her hope that she had seen truth in his eyes when he touched her, kissed her, and expressed his desire for her, but John’s words clung to every memory—taunting her.
The part of her that had fallen under Jackson’s spell hid in shame. She deserved the humiliation after recklessly allowing a piece of herself to desire another. If she was honest with herself, she knew it was more than physical with Jackson. She allowed him stir the broken remains of her heart, and now she deserved the fallout.
She hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep until a sound pulled her awake. Lexie pushed off the bed as the door swung open and backed up as far as she could. A man that she didn’t recognize stalked into the room. “Who are you?”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Jackson
“Where the fuck are they?” Jackson hollered, grabbing one of the men by the neck of his shirt and throwing him into a stack of boxes. A couple of them knocked free of the pile and fell to the ground, their contents spilling onto the floor.
“I don’t know…I don’t know anything about these girls you’re talking about…I just work here.” The man raised his hands, visibly terrified of what Jackson planned on doing.
“Holy fuck.” Teddy grabbed for something that had tumbled out of one of the boxes. “They’re fucking sex toys.” Teddy held up a box for a bright pink dildo. Teddy opened the box to take a closer look at the merchandise.
“Where’s John?” Jackson demanded, tightening his hold until the man began gasping for breath.
“W-Who?”
“John Stodden. Where is he?”
“Dildos filled with fucking crack,” Teddy said excitedly. “Talk about double your pleasure.” Jackson cursed under his breath and swung around to glare at Teddy. “Sorry, man.” Teddy threw up his hands in apology, still holding the dildo.
Jackson threw down the man next to the others huddled on the floor. “Someone better tell me where to fucking find John Stodden,” Jackson hollered, raising his gun and aiming it at the group. They all cowered in the face of danger.
“We were hired to pack boxes. Nobody tells us nothin’. We don’t know no John,” one of the other men said, his eyes darting around the room as the rest of the men with Jackson’s group joined them. Mark leaned against a pallet of boxes, the entire front of his shirt saturated in blood.
“Who hired you?” Jackson waved his gun demandingly in their faces.
One of them pointed a shaky finger toward one of the dead men on the floor. “He did. He pays us cash per shift. I told you we don’t know nothin’.” Jackson raked his hand over his face.
“Check him, Ted.” Jackson nodded toward the body. Teddy knelt down and flipped the body over. The man was definitely dead, with a bullet hole to the forehead. Teddy reached into his pocket and pulled out the man’s wallet.
“Says he’s Pete Winters. Sound familiar?”
“No. He must be new blood.” Jackson rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Someone has to fucking know something. Tell me.” Jackson could feel his rage tightening his chest. “Or I’ll shoot every one of you.”
“Lower your weapon, Finley,” Haffey ordered. Jackson turned to see her and a group of officers file in lead by Haffey. “John’s not here. We already cleared the building.” Jackson tightened his grip. He wasn’t ready to admit defeat. “Lower your goddam weapon, Finley, or I will shoot you myself.”
Jackson dropped the gun to his side. Clenching his jaw, he stepped back. A few of Haffey’s men moved in and cuffed the men he had in custody, none of them putting up a fight.
“I’m sending a team in here. We will find something to link John to this place. For now, go cool down.” Haffey glared at him. Jackson could see he was testing her patience.
Finley looked down when her foot kicked a box next to her feet. “What’s this?” She picked it up, and realization dawned on her face.
“Crack-filled pleasure sticks. What’s your color preference, blue or pink?” Teddy laughed despite the tension in the room. He never ceased to take a serious situation and find humor in it.
Haffey rolled her eyes and shoved the box into Sieks’ hands. “Get evidence in here to process this shit.”
“And you.” Haffey pointed at Teddy. “Get Finley out of here before he gets himself into trouble.”
“Sure thing, Detective Haffey.” Teddy saluted.
Jackson shoved his gun into his holster and walked away. He needed to get some fresh air before he tore something apart. Their best lead turned up a dead end. He knew that the chances of finding John’s name on any of the paperwork in the building were slim to none.
“Jackson,” Teddy called behind him. Jackson was on a mission, and he stalked from the building. Swinging the exit door open, it smashed against the outside wall. “Jackson, wait up. Where are you going?”
Jackson spun around when they were outside and away from Haffey’s team. “Change of plans, Teddy. I’m finding John my way.”
“I’m in.” They both turned to see Evan approach with Teddy’s bag in his hand.
“Give me that,” Teddy demanded. “I told you not to touch my stuff.”
Jackson looked at Teddy. He was going to need him for this plan to work. Teddy assessed his bag, making sure everything was accounted for before he swung it over his shoulder. He looked at Jackson with a deep sigh. “You know I’m in, man, until the end.”
Jackson nodded. “Good.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Stephanie
The air smelled stale. It reminded Stephanie of the locker room of her gym, but putrid. She felt herself rousing. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt so heavy. Her disoriented mind was trying to pull facts from the dark cloud that filled her head.
Stephanie lifted her head when the memory of being taken by men with guns penetrated the fog. A sob escaped her as an ache began throbbing in her jaw. The feeling in her body began to return. She remembered being taken into a room where she was locked inside.
She scrambled around the room looking for something to cut the ties that bound her arms. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and two men walked in. One of the men wore an expen
sive suit. His appearance was well manicured and his demeanour refined. It didn’t match the cold, evil glare that flared in his eyes when his gaze fell on her. He terrified her.
The other man looked like one of the men that had taken her. Tattoos covered the right side of his neck, and his head was shaven. Though he looked dangerous, it didn’t compare to the darkness that filled the shadow of the other man.
“What do you think?” the tattooed man asked the other as they both watched her.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Good. I’ll let John know.” The tattooed man approached her then, pulling something from his pocket. Stephanie had backed against the wall, pleading for him to let her go. That was when she saw the needle. He grabbed hold of her, and she struggled against him until she felt a sting in her arm. Her fight wavered as her body began to fail her. The last thing she remembered seeing was the cold, sinister smile of the man in the suit.
Stephanie was now on the hard, cold floor in a dimly lit room. She turned her head to see the source of the light. Across the room, a lone lamp sat on a table in the corner of the room. She could see it through black metal bars that stood in front of her.
It took all the strength she could gather to push her body off the floor. She grabbed for one of the bars to pull herself up to her unsteady feet. Her body began to throb as her blood rushed through her body as she began to move. Her stomach rolled with nausea.
She grasped the bars with both hands, looking around the room. Tears streamed down her face at the haunting sight. A small run of cabinets sat in the corner with boxes stacked on the counter, and in the center of the room sat a large bed with chains hanging off the headboard.
