The Runner's Daughter

by Jessica McCrory

  “I want to know where my sister is. I delivered your daughter to you as promised.”

  “Maria, Maria.” Liam stood and waved his hands for her to stop. “I believe my exact words were ‘once I figure out what she told the cop, I will bring your sister back,’ and she still isn’t talking.”

  Maria ground her teeth together. “Then let me in there. I’ll get that bitch to talk.” Her accent got stronger when she got irritated, and Liam had to hide the fact he found it hot as hell. It would do him no good for her to see the reaction her steel spine gave him. Especially since he had no interest in acting on it. She was not anywhere near what he would allow himself to taste. He preferred class, and she had none.

  “Do not refer to my daughter as a bitch, Maria. And going in there to what, beat the information out of her? That would do neither of us any good as she wouldn’t talk, and then I would have to call an ambulance for one of you. And no offense, Maria, I don’t think I would be calling it for her.”

  “I want my sister.”

  “You will have her, once I get the information out of Willow.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I have another meeting. Please leave.”

  Maria stormed out just as his next employee was walking in. “Julius, please have a seat.” Liam motioned for the chair across from him, and the tall, lanky informant took a seat. Every single time Julius stepped into his office, Liam had to keep himself from staring at all the metal in the man’s face. How did he make it through a detector? “What do you have for me?”

  “Cooper was arrested by the FBI after attacking one of their agents in the man’s apartment.”

  “Agent Caid King?”

  Julius nodded. “He’s sitting in a holding cell right now, but as far as I know, he hasn’t talked. My contact inside said he’s staying true and not releasing anything of any importance.”

  “That’s Sandoval. As trustworthy as they come. Of course, he is also a dog on a fucking chain. The second it falls off, he loses control.” Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did he kill the agent?”

  Julius shook his head. “From what my contact says, the agent fucked Cooper up real bad too.”

  Liam cursed under his breath. “I needed him here. Bring me Eric. He’s never disappointed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Julius stood.

  “Let me ask you a question, Julius.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “How do you make it through a metal detector with all that shit in your face?”

  Julius chuckled. “Haven’t had to yet.”

  “Let me know when you do.”

  “Will do, sir.” Julius stepped out into the hall, and Liam looked back down at the ledger in front of him. For the first time in three years, his escapee daughter was finally back under his roof. He knew he hadn’t been a great father to her, but he had tried to give her everything. Things had been going well too until fucking Madeline had taken off. Everything since then he blamed on her.

  But now Willow was back, and he had no intention of ever letting her leave again. If she tried, he’d put her six feet under.

  8

  Chapter 8

  Twenty-four days later

  “Any luck on that missing person’s case?” Caid looked up to see Pax leaning in his office. He shook his head and went back to the file he was looking through for probably the hundredth time.

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, but is it possible she really did just leave? Maybe she was robbed afterwards.”

  “You know as well I as do that would be one hell of a coincidence.”

  “True, but still a possibility. You haven’t found a single thing that proves she was taken.”

  “The duffle--”

  “Could have been she wasn’t supposed to have the gun, so she left it and bailed. You can’t even find anything proving Jemma is her real name. Come on, King, her last name is listed as Saige, which, if you remember, is a damn spice. It’s obviously a fake.”

  “She didn’t just leave, Pax.”

  “You met her twice. Maybe your read was off. It’s time to start focusing back on The Runner case. He needs to be your priority.” She stepped back into the hall, and Caid bit back a curse. It had been nearly a month since he and Mikel had gone to Jemma’s apartment. Twenty-four days of not knowing whether she was alive or dead.

  Every day he called to see if anyone matching her description had been admitted to the hospital or brought into the morgue. She was a ghost, and he was not getting anywhere in his search. A more detailed look into her background had proved she had appeared out of nowhere three years prior. Sure, there was a pretty substantial paper trail prior to that, but he knew enough to look deeper.

  It had been a cover meant to hide who she truly was. So here he was, once again asking himself the question plaguing him ever since she disappeared -- just who the hell was Jemma Saige?

  A knock on his door had him lifting his eyes from the file again.

  “What do you want?” He looked back down as Brittany walked in with a Tupperware container.

  “Henry said you’ve been having a rough time lately. Something about some missing woman.” She set the container down on his desk. “They’re your favorite.” She smiled. “Bet you didn’t think I’d remember.”

  Caid lifted the container and handed it back to her. “You baked fucking cookies? Are you serious? I don’t want them, Brittany, and I don’t want you to ever step foot in my office again.”

  “You can be such an ass. This is why we didn’t work out.”

  “No, we didn’t work out because you couldn’t keep your damn legs closed when it came to my partner.”

  She stared at him open-mouthed, and Caid wished a fly would have flown in it. That would have at least made this situation bearable, and he definitely needed a good laugh. “How dare you talk to me that way. I came here to offer some support, and you shut me out like this?”

  Here come the water works, Caid thought to himself. She was always damn good at putting on a show.

  “Goodbye, Brittany.” He looked back down and ignored the slam of the door. “Dammit,” he cursed when he saw she left the container on the desk. He made a mental note to make sure he trashed the damn things.

  “So where are you, Jemma?” he asked aloud to the empty room. “And why would someone want to toss your apartment?”

  She had obviously been hiding from someone, but who was it? He pinched the bridge of his nose. It seemed like no matter what he did or where he looked, he was always coming up empty-handed.

  His phone rang, and he answered without looking at the ID. “King.”

  “Hey, little brother.”

  His sister’s voice brought an instant smile to his face. “Hey, Soph, what’s up?”

  “Not much. Trying not to eat everything in sight.”

  His sister was seven months pregnant with her second baby. She had married her high school sweetheart, granted they had been separated for a few years before they finally reconnected. Dave had come back into her life after the panic attacks had started, and he had stayed through the worst of it. He was a good man, and Caid was happy to call him a brother-in-law.

  “Well, I hear that happens when you’re eating for two.”

  Sophia laughed. “How are things with you?”

  “Eh, they’re going. Just the typical crap.”

  “Any word from the whore?”

  Caid let out a laugh at his sister’s nickname for Brittany. “Actually, she was just here.”

  “No! Really?”

  “Yep, brought me cookies.”

  “What a bitch.”

  “That she brought me cookies?”

  “Absolutely! After what she did to you, she shouldn’t even be showing her slutty face anywhere near you.”

  “I hope Maddox isn’t anywhere nearby,” Caid said, mentioning his nephew.

  “Of course not. He’s taking a nap.”

  “She spouted off some crap about how I was an ass, and then slammed the door
on her way out.”

  “I may be pregnant, but I can still kick her ass. You just say the word, and I will unleash pregnancy hormones that would scare even you big bad FBI agents.”

  Caid let out another laugh. He knew she absolutely would too. “No need for that momzilla. I’ve got things covered.”

  “Everything else going all right? You sound a little off.”

  Growing up, he and Sophia had been best friends, and their bond had only strengthened as they became adults. She knew him a whole hell of a lot better than he even knew himself, and it worked the other way around too.

  “Just having a long day. I’m good though.”

  “Any pretty girls catch your eye lately?”

  Jemma’s face flashed into view. He instantly felt a crushing guilt because he had just been laughing when she could very well be out fighting for her life.

  “A girl at the gym.”

  “Oooohhhh, tell me more!”

  Caid smiled. “Maybe another time. I need to get going.”

  “You better fill me in, King! I’ll call Mom if I need to.”

  “Please don’t. I promise I’ll tell you more. Love you, Soph.”

  “Love you too.”

  He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. “Fuck it.” He stood, pushed his chair into his desk, grabbed his jacket, and stepped into the hall.

  “I need to talk to you.” Jameson was coming toward him, and by the look on his ex-partner’s face, Brittany had talked to him. She was damn good at playing the victim.

  “Not interested.”

  “The hell you’re not. You don’t get to talk to Brittany that way. I warned you.” Jameson got nose to nose with Caid, and it took everything in Caid’s power not to plant his fist in the man’s face.

  “Get the hell out of my face, Jameson.”

  “Not until you agree to apologize to Britt.”

  “I have nothing to say to either of you.”

  “Hey!” Pax walked up and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Get in my office now, you two.”

  They continued staring at each other.

  “If I have to tell you again, I’ll fire both your asses.”

  Caid broke off and headed toward Pax’s office. Once the door was shut, she whirled around to face them. “I don’t understand why the fuck it is that whenever I turn around the two of you are going at it again.”

  “Boss, I can--” Jameson started, and Pax held up her hand.

  “What you did to your partner was bullshit, Jameson, and had I been here when it happened, I would have fired your ass on the spot. You don’t fuck with family, and that’s what King should have been to you.”

  Caid, feeling smug, crossed his arms over his chest and turned to face Jameson whose cheeks had paled.

  “And you” -- he turned back around to face Pax -- “you need to let it go. Or at the very least, be professional when you are in this office, you hear me?”

  Caid nodded and looked at Jameson, “tell your wife to stay out of my office. She has no business coming to see me.”

  “That’s fair, wouldn’t you say so Jameson? I wouldn’t want my spouse spending extra time with their ex.” Jameson nodded and Pax pointed to the door, “now get the hell out of my office.”

  “This isn’t over,” Jameson muttered under his breath as they walked past each other.

  The elevator took longer than normal, but once it reached the bottom floor, Caid headed for his car.

  9

  Jemma sat up in bed ready for the day for the first time in the last month. Her father was gone and had taken most of his guards with him, which meant if she was going to escape, today was the day to do it.

  He had left her to herself most of the time, only occasionally forcing her to interact with him. It had been just like it had when she’d been a child, him ignoring her unless he wanted something.

  It seemed things hadn’t changed much. He had already promised her hand to someone in another crime family. Like hell she was going to marry anyone he forced on her. She reached into the drawer and pulled out the small wooden stake she had whittled with a stolen butter knife. She also shoved said knife-dull now- into the waistband of her jeans.

  She took one last look around her cell. She was never coming back here, whether that meant she escaped alive or in a body bag. Opening the door, she stepped into the hall of the large house.

  Jemma made her way downstairs, passing the pictures of her father’s family on the wall. His mother had still been alive when she had escaped three years ago. The woman had been even more conniving than her son, and Jemma wondered just who had run the family when she had been in her prime. She would have been willing to bet her grandfather had little to do with any of it.

  “Where are you going?” Rodrigues, one of her father’s guards, moved to stand in front of the door.

  “Last time I checked, I was allowed to go outside.”

  “Why?”

  “Why the hell not? Would you want to be locked up in a flowery pink fucking room all day?”

  “You better watch your mouth and be grateful to have a roof over your head.”

  “Whatever. Move.”

  He hesitated for a moment and then stepped aside so she could make her way out into the sunshine. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness, so she stood for a moment and looked out at her father’s estate.

  Liam Charmont certainly had taste as far as his belongings were concerned. His heart was black, and he was the evilest man Jemma had ever met, but at least his lawn was groomed. She scoffed and made her way toward the large weeping willow that she had been named after.

  “Well, where’s our little Willow going?”

  “For a walk,” she continued moving as one of her father’s guards followed her. She just needed to get close enough to the wall that she could jump over it. The property bordered the ocean, so if she could just get to the other side, she could escape into the water. She might not survive it, but it would be better than dying here.

  “How does it feel to know you’ll be a married woman soon?” he mouthed off. “If you ever want to get out some last days as a single woman jitters, I’m here for you.”

  At this, Jemma turned and offered him a smile. “My father would kill you for talking to me this way.”

  “If he believed you. You are, after all, a traitor to your blood.”

  “Look, it’s been a rough month. Think I can have some privacy?”

  The man laughed. “No, I have strict orders to follow you around.” He looked her up and down and licked his lips. “Can’t say I can complain about the view.”

  “You want a piece of this?” she asked him and fluttered her eyelashes. “Come and get it.”

  He eyed her and took one step closer. When she didn’t move, he took another until he was inches in front of her. Without giving him a second to react, Jemma drove one knee into his groin, and slammed his face into her other. He fell to the ground unconscious, and Jemma took the moment to relieve him of his weapons. She tucked a large knife into her boot, and his gun into her waistband. Then she used the spaces between the bricks to climb, unable to resist, she flipped the security camera the bird once she reached the top.

  She dropped to the other side of the wall and onto the short space of land before the edge of a small cliff. The water crashed into rocks below her, and Jemma said a silent prayer before jumping into the water below.

  The chill reached her bones as the cold enveloped her, but she didn’t give it a second thought. This was the only part of her father’s estate that wasn’t patrolled regularly. But the second they caught wind of her being gone, which would be any minute since the cameras were monitored, they would be on her. She swam close to shore and pushed her muscles to the max as she made her escape.

  Once Jemma was far enough that she might be safe on land, she swam to shore and made her way toward the nearest bus station. She hoped the money and IDs she had stashed before her first escape were still in h
er locker.

  Otherwise, she was screwed.

  Caid made his way to Jemma’s apartment building to do his nightly sweep. Not long after she went missing, the neighbor who had introduced herself as Maria had moved out. As it turned out, the who had lived there had been an eighty-year-old woman by the name of Lupita Hernandez, who went missing shortly after Jemma rented the space. Maria was supposed to be a granddaughter, but after a bit of digging, he found that cover to be a lie.

  They hadn’t been able to track down the woman, although not for a lack of trying. Caid couldn’t shake the feeling there were some big players at work; he just wasn’t sure who.

  It was dark out, well past eleven at night, and he was not looking forward to going home to his empty apartment. He parked near the side entrance to the building, flipped on his in-cab light, and pulled out Jemma’s file again. A picture from her driver’s license stared back at him. “Where the hell are you, Jemma?”

  “Fuck!”

  He heard a loud curse through his rolled down window, and Caid turned to see someone trying to reach the fire escape ladder.

  He quickly placed the file to the side, and drawing his weapon, climbed out. “Can I help you?” He shined a flashlight, and the person froze. Dark beanie and baggy jacket didn’t give him a clue as to male or female, not that it mattered. A criminal was a criminal regardless of gender. “Turn around and put your hands up.” He lifted his weapon and waited as the person turned.

  “Jemma?” He lowered his weapon and took a step toward her.

  “Can I put my hands down now?”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “It’s a long story, Agent King.” She lowered her hands.

  “I’ve got time.”

  “You might have time, but I don’t.” She jumped up and missed the fire escape ladder again. “Shit!”

  “Your apartment was tossed.”

  She turned to face him. “I figured it would be. I still need to get inside.” She jumped again and missed. Dammit, she was tired of being short.