Saved By The Enemy (Hacienda Heights Book 3)

by Emma Roberts

  After checking Ancel’s other properties, we’d scoped out the shipyard, and hadn’t come in today to instigate a firefight. I’d been hoping to catch the guards wrong-footed and rescue any women they currently held captive. But Perron or his injured compatriot had gotten the word out, and we’d been anticipated. The yard had been mostly deserted.

  None of the shipping containers we’d had the opportunity to search contained people, although one had been in such a squalid state it had to have once contained human cargo. Shit and piss and other stains of human misery smeared the walls. The thought of Mina enduring even a day of that kind of horror made me want to beat Ancel to a bloody pulp.

  My next shot was better, aimed low as the man sought new cover, and took the guard out at the knee. He hit the ground with a squeal a pig would envy, cursing in rapid-fire French.

  I strode over to him, yanking the gun he was raising again out of his flustered grip, and wedged the sole of my combat boot into his sternum.

  The breath left his lungs in a rush as he glared up at me with hate in his dark eyes. The silvery scar on his cheek glinted in the sun, making him appear sinister.

  “Where is Mina Blakely?” I barked.

  Keenan translated for me, just in case my meaning wasn’t clear.

  The man’s eyes were glassy with pained tears, but he kept his mouth stubbornly shut.

  I leaned forward, resting an elbow on my knee, letting my gun swing close to his face as I loomed over him.

  He drew in a slow, wheezing breath. “I do not know who Mina is.”

  I reached into the pocket of my jacket and pulled out the five-by-seven photo we’d had printed for just this purpose. It was the grainy still of Mina, in her dark-haired disguise, being loaded into a cargo van.

  “This woman. She’s a senator’s daughter. You stole her from Los Angeles.”

  “I have done nothing of the sort,” the man said, eyes darting nervously from me to Keenan and back to me.

  Keenan growled low in his throat. “Maybe we haven’t made ourselves clear. If you don’t tell us what you know, you’re going to die. That’s my sister you kidnapped. I am not going to lose sleep over shooting you.”

  “I don’t—”

  Keenan kicked the man in the ribs with another low snarl.

  The guard’s body bucked and he let out a pained cry that reverberated up my leg. The man wheezed again, his eyes bugged and he tried to curl onto his side, but was stopped by the firm pressure of my boot. He flopped against my leg weakly, like a dying fish.

  Keenan cocked his gun for good measure and knelt close to the man’s head.

  “Easy, 007,” I muttered. “We haven’t gotten any answers yet.”

  “What guarantee…do I have that you…won’t kill me as soon as I tell you?” the man finally said, his voice quiet, his black eyes staring up into mine.

  “You have my word. I didn’t kill Vincent Perron or John Falcon, and I had a hell of a lot more of a reason to kill them than I do you. If you don’t... Well, Keenan seems eager to try out his Browning Hi-Power. It’ll make quite a mess. I’m not sure they’d be able to identify you, even with dental records.”

  The man strained weakly against my boot before seeming to give up. He deflated, sinking back to the concrete beneath him. “She was last-minute cargo. We had no plans to take her.”

  “That’s complete and utter—” Keenan began. I held up a hand to cut him off and he fell silent, still frowning at the man.

  “Who brought her to you and why?”

  “It was a woman,” he said slowly. “A beautiful woman with dark hair. She didn’t give us a real name, I think. Miss Ginger.”

  Miss Ginger’s Escort Service. The organization we’d managed to bring down before Mina’s disappearance. One of Mina’s girls, Luciana Allende, who had turned out to be Ginger, had been plotting against her, sending her death threats in order to ensure that the control of both organizations fell squarely into her hands. But Luciana was in jail. And we knew Mina had gotten into the car with Isadora, who supposedly was going to take her home. Dark-haired and using an assumed name could apply to any number of women. But if it was Isadora, she’d been using Luciana’s moniker to cover her ass.

  Just to be sure, I pulled a second photo from my pocket, this one torn from the cover of Business Insider. Isadora Anwick’s perfect plastic face offered the world a phony smile. “Is this the woman?”

  The incapacitated guard nodded. “That’s her exactly. I thought at first she might be cargo, too, since the man driving her was usually a go-between, but he told me she wasn’t to be touched.”

  My heart lurched in my chest and bile crept up the back of my throat. So Isadora was involved in the kidnapping, which meant she must have been involved in the blackmail of Mina. The question was, how? And why? It wasn’t as if she needed the money. Upon his death, Alastair Anwick had left his daughter a company that was worth sixty-seven million. In just a few years she’d tripled that figure, becoming a very rich and powerful woman.

  But it still didn’t answer the most pressing question. “Where’s Mina?”

  “The last I knew they were taking her and Beaulieu to Ancel. Please, that’s all I know.”

  “Beaulieu?” Keenan repeated, looking like a light bulb had lit in his head. “As in, Sebastian Beaulieu, the director?”

  “His daughter.”

  “Good God, how many directors are involved in this?” I muttered. “I assume he’s one of your people?”

  Keenan nodded. “Sorry it took me so long to make the connection. I knew when I heard the last name that I knew it from somewhere. For the last several years, Beaulieu outperformed Ancel at the annual film festival. I heard he was furious. Could have something to do with the reason he had the daughter kidnapped. She would be Julienne.”

  I leaned my weight onto the guard’s chest again. “Where are they now?”

  “They got loose,” he said. “They got free and they ran. They were supposed to be at Ancel’s last week. We have eyes on the Beaulieu villa, just in case they run. So far there’s been nothing. That’s all I know.”

  “Where’s the villa?”

  The man grunted out the address then, “Please, get off of me.”

  I leaned farther forward, letting him feel my full weight. Letting him feel the terror of knowing I could crush him like a cockroach beneath my heel for everything he’d done to Mina. And for a few seconds, the burning need to kill him blotted out everything else. He’d been involved in the kidnapping. He’d taken Mina, shoved her in one of the stained crates to suffer a week-long ocean journey. I wanted to end him so badly it hurt.

  But I’d made a promise. And Farraday men didn’t break their word.

  Stepping off him, I shoved the gun back into its holster. Then I swung my fist, the blow making the cretin’s eyes roll up into the back of his head.

  “You’re not going to let him go, are you?” Keenan stared down at the man with naked contempt.

  “I gave him my word I wouldn’t kill him, that’s all. Find some rope and a nice place to tie him to. The authorities will be on their way before too much longer. There’s no way that they’ve bribed all the citizens in the surrounding area. Someone’s sure to have reported this by now. If we leave him somewhere in the open, he’ll be found.”

  “I never made him any promises,” Keenan muttered, finger still twitching on the trigger guard as he stared down at the unconscious man.

  “Don’t.”

  Keenan finally tore his gaze away and gave me a steely look. “He deserves to die, Logan. You know he does. He hurt Mina. He’s probably done worse to thousands of girls.”

  “So what, you think we deserve to be judge, jury, and executioner?” I shot back. “We’re not above the law either, Keenan. Don’t make yourself a murderer over scum like this. He’s not worth that.”

  Keenan’s hand shook as he gripped the Browning but, after a few protracted seconds where I was sure he’d shoot, he flicked the safety back on and hol
stered the gun.

  “Good.”

  Keenan stared bleakly out into the water, face drawn, as though it had cost him something to put the gun away. He seized the fallen man by the shirt and began dragging him none-too-gently toward the dock. A dark smear of blood trailed him as his knee bled freely. It was a little gratifying to know that he was hurt, even if I couldn’t afford to kill him.

  Sirens cut through the air at a distance just as we were finished tying him to a post and seeing to his wound. I wasn’t a barbarian. We quickly made our way back to the rental and the main road.

  “We’ve got to check the villa, but I’m thinking we should take another look at Ancel’s properties,” Keenan pointed out. “Do we split up? Cover more ground?”

  I shook my head. I’d never tell him, but I wasn’t sure I could trust his judgement. He’d been too close to killing that man for my comfort. We’d come here to rescue Mina, not become international fugitives. We were already walking a thin fucking line with the vigilante shit we were pulling.

  “Let’s go to the villa first.” I tapped the steering wheel. “And then we’ll make a plan to infiltrate Ancel if she doesn’t turn up there.”

  Keenan nodded. The calculated look in his eyes chilled me to the bone. “Alright. But Logan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Next time, don’t get in my way. I’m not letting another one of them go again.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mina

  I clutched a small, empty ice cream tub between my legs as the bus we rode bus jostled at every bump, just in case the nausea became unmanageable. The scalding rush of bile was hovering somewhere in my esophagus, just waiting for an excuse to be expelled.

  If this was pregnancy, I wanted a damn refund. Where was the happy, golden glow and the effusive warmth that came with growing a new person? Right now, I felt like three-day-old roadkill. My head pounded and fatigue had settled into my bones. It had felt like a Sisyphean task to board the bus headed for the Julienne’s father’s villa.

  Julienne had been supporting my head for the last ten miles, allowing me to rest on her shoulder. Our sojourn in run-down hotel rooms had worked some sort of magic on her. Julienne had taken advantage of every chance to shower, used any lotion she could get her hands on, and slept often. As a result, she looked quite pretty.

  I, on the other hand, had not had the strength to stand under the shower spray. I’d finally gotten so grimy by the end of the week I’d allowed Julienne to help me into a bath.

  Julienne’s excitement to be going home was palpable. I really should have tried to dissuade her from returning. Seven days couldn’t be a long enough time. They were probably still watching the place, in case we did something idiotic like flee to a known location. But I was too tired and too feverish to argue with Julienne. She’d been endlessly patient with me. And if she was right, and her father could protect us, so much the better. All I really cared about was getting some kind of relief. The throbbing in my leg was so bad I was tempted to gnaw it off.

  The driver’s voice boomed through the bus, sending a lance of pain into my temple. It took me several seconds to realize that he had just announced our stop. I tried not to moan as I realized I had to get up. Everything hurt. I was dehydrated, I knew, because I’d barely even been able to keep down water.

  Julienne hooked an arm beneath my shoulder and together we hobbled toward the front of the bus. The midafternoon sun was blinding through the windshield, and I tugged down the brim of my hat, holding the ice cream tub close to my chest. I shivered as we stepped off the bus. This was definitely a bad idea.

  The bus took off in a cloud of exhaust, and I focused on the winding drive stretching out for an eternity before us, broken only by a gate and what looked like a guard house. I couldn’t see myself making it even one block, let alone the distance that awaited us.

  “I can’t do this, Julienne,” I croaked. “I can’t. There’s no way in hell.”

  “Don’t worry,” Julienne said, voice bright and chipper. Just the thought of seeing her father seemed to have given her new life. I had no idea that my squirrely companion could be so animated. “You will not have to go far. I know a way in near the tennis court. Papa keeps his golf carts near there. We can ride most of the way up.”

  Hallelujah and thank God.

  She continued to chatter as she led me around the high wooden fence that surrounded the villa. From my vantage point, it looked more like a compound. The high fence was probably to keep the paparazzi out, but it still made me nervous.

  “I used to sneak out this way all the time,” Julienne said with a grin. “Papa was always selective about who I could date. And his choices were always so boring. I had one particularly determined boyfriend who rigged a place in the fence for me to escape. And so far as I know, it has never been discovered. Come on.”

  Julienne pulled me to a stop just as I was about to beg her to let me lie down on the ground. Stepping into the landscaping, she tapped a board experimentally. Then she slid it and its fellows aside, as easily as swinging a door open.

  “Ha! I knew it would still be there.”

  We’d both grown thinner in the weeks since being snatched, so it wasn’t hard to squeeze through the gap and onto the wide, sloping lawn on the other side. Not far away was the small tennis court that she’d mentioned, and beyond that, the beginning of a golf course. There was a golf cart parked nearby in a shed, and I nearly wept at the sight of it.

  Julienne helped me climb into the passenger’s side and I kept my head down as she drove, convinced that I’d end up throwing up from the jostling. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the main yard, and by then, Julienne was practically bouncing in her seat.

  She deflated somewhat when she pulled to a stop next to a red Land Rover. I risked a glance up and found her frowning at it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, per se. But Papa does not appear to be home. He drives a Lamborghini. This is Amelie’s car.”

  Her tone said she’d rather have found a live viper waiting for her than face her stepmother. But now that we were here, it seemed almost impossible to turn back.

  “Do you think she’d have something I could take?” I asked weakly. “For the nausea, if nothing else? Is there anything safe, just in case…”

  I rubbed my stomach, unwilling to speak the words out loud.

  Julienne’s dour expression softened and she glanced at me guiltily. “Mon dieu, Mina, I am so sorry. Of course, we need to go inside. Amelie has a private doctor she sees. I’ll see if he can do anything about your leg, oui?”

  “Sounds great.” I gave her a weak thumbs-up.

  There were about a million steps that led to the wide front doors. Okay, it was probably closer to two dozen, but it felt like I was trying to replicate the scene from Rocky, except I didn’t have the sweatpants or red sweatband.

  Julienne rapped confidently on the front doors and was greeted a few seconds later by a tall, spare man wearing a crisp white uniform. He went pale the moment he laid eyes on Julienne.

  “Ah, mademoiselle...we weren’t expecting you back so soon. I thought you planned to stay in America for another month, at least.”

  “No time to explain right now, Francis. Where is Amelie? I need to speak to her. My friend needs Doctor Gregory, and I need to call Papa.”

  He inclined his head toward her after a moment and gave a forced smile. It didn’t look like she was very welcome in her own home, but there was no time to go sprinting down the drive, even if I’d had the strength to do so. My stomach pitched and I wretched into my bucket.

  Francis shot me a wary look, trying to hide his grimace, and then ushered us inside. The doors slammed into place behind us with an ominous boom, closing us inside with a nervous butler and God knew what else.

  My gut was telling me something was wrong. Very, very wrong. But my mind was too muddled to piece together anything at the moment.

  So I waited, huddled over my ice cr
eam bucket, for the wicked stepmother to arrive and welcome Julienne home.

  Something told me that wasn’t going to go well at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan

  “You know what I don’t get?” Keenan asked as I drove the rental car along the coast of the Mediterranean. We were only a few minutes out from Beaulieu’s place, which was in the middle of one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen, with sweeping views of ocean the color of the sky. It was a pity we were here under such dire circumstances.

  “That could be any number of things, Keenan. Narrow it down for me.”

  Keenan scowled and gave me the finger. The gesture was enough to tug a small smile from me.

  “Jackass. I was just getting to that. What I don’t get is how Mina’s any good at this. She was tied up, you know. We saw it on that surveillance photo Tuck sent. With zip ties, like the ones we found. So how did she manage to get free? That scenario wasn’t in any of the self-defense classes she took when she was living at home. How did she learn all this espionage shit?”

  From me, though I wasn’t going to tell him that. If Mina’s brother was finally able to show her the proper amount of respect, I wasn’t going to take credit for aiding her escape. Let Keenan believe his sister was a badass. Because, of course, she was. Not only for the daring escape she’d made recently, but for the many, many times she’d struggled to keep herself alive and afloat in the six years she’d been apart from me. She had earned her badass title.

  “She’s not an idiot, Keenan. She’s a senator’s daughter. There are any number of people who’d love to ransom her for that reason alone. I’m sure she learned it sometime after she stopped living with you.”

  Keenan chewed his lip thoughtfully. “I never agreed with Dad, you know.”

  “You didn’t exactly come to her defense either,” I pointed out.

  “And neither did you,” he said with a frown. “I noticed you didn’t try to rescue her either.”

  I blew out a breath through my nose. “I tried. A few months after the initial scandal broke we hooked up. I was going to tell her it hadn’t been me, but she wouldn’t listen. She kicked me out and blocked my number. I took the hint. So when did your change of heart about Mina come?”