RELENTLESS

by Christy Reece

  Present Day

  Indianapolis, Indiana

  “Hey, Stryker. You see El Diablo yet?”

  Liam readjusted his earwig. It was hard as hell to hear anything with all the caterwauling going on. What kind of an informant wanted to meet in a karaoke bar anyway? His, that’s who.

  “No,” Liam growled.

  “Me either.” Eve snorted. “Who gave this guy his name, anyway?”

  “I think he did that to himself,” Gideon said dryly.

  Gideon was right. El Diablo’s real name was Myron Clyde Hornsby. It was easy to understand why he thought El Diablo sounded tougher. But he was also one of the best CIs Liam had ever had. When you’re five feet nothing, weigh less than a buck twenty-five, and had the kind of face that blended into a whitewashed wall, it was easy to slide in unnoticed. Even though El Diablo liked to meet in some of the most asinine places, Liam put up with his idiosyncrasies. He was quirky, weird, and a valuable informant.

  “I’d like to sing this for all my friends out there.”

  Recognizing the voice, Liam went on alert. Moving his head slightly he spotted his erstwhile informant on the stage, microphone in his hand. Oh hell, Myron was going to sing?

  When the music from the old song Somebody’s Watching Me started up, Liam knew they were in trouble. In typical Myron fashion, he was trying to warn them.

  “We’ve been made,” Liam said softly.

  He barely got the words out before a hand grabbed his arm and tugged hard. Liam didn’t even bother to struggle. Allowing himself to be pulled up, Liam smoothly swung his other arm, slamming a fist into the guy’s face.

  As if the entire room had been waiting for a signal, the bar exploded into a free-for-all. Tables squealed across the floor as they were shoved out of the way. A chair flew through the air barely missing Liam’s head. Fists came from the left and the right, jabbed and stung.

  It’d been a long time since he’d been in a bar brawl. At a more convenient time, he would’ve jumped right in and enjoyed throwing a few more punches. But he was here for a specific purpose. Beating the snot out of someone wasn’t on today’s agenda.

  His eyes tracked Myron’s movements as he scurried off the stage. Liam took a step forward. A meaty fist hurled toward him. Liam ducked, came back with an uppercut to a broad jaw. The guy barely moved an inch. Growling his frustration, he pressed his earwig. “Eve, our man’s going out the back.”

  “I’m on him,” Eve answered.

  Liam opened his mouth, about to invite Gideon to come inside and join the party, when a body flew by him, obviously thrown by someone. That someone was Gideon who was clearing a path in his typical fashion of just hurling people out of the way. The man definitely had his own style.

  “You ever think about going to a bar and not starting a fight?” Gideon asked.

  Ducking to avoid a fist, Liam straightened, delivering his own fist to the stranger’s jaw, then turned to answer Gideon. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

  “Do you know who these bozos are?”

  Liam shoved Gideon out of the way of a flying chair, caught it, and hurled it back where it came from, hitting a couple of knuckleheads along the way.

  “Not yet.”

  “Let’s get out of here before the police get here.”

  Liam grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

  With that, they strode through the bar, shoving away anyone who threatened their progress. When they got to the door, Liam turned back and assessed the scene. The fight had been staged to distract. Question was why.

  Spotting a movement out of the corner of his eye, Liam turned and got the answer to his question.

  “Ah hell,” he growled. “Drury’s here.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Gideon asked. “I thought he was locked up.”

  “Guess he got out.” Liam jerked his head toward the door. “He’s headed toward the back exit. You go around and stop him if he gets out before I get to him.”

  “Roger that but watch your six. He’s likely got a few more friends here.”

  Acknowledging the statement with a nod, Liam headed toward the back. Following the creep should be easy. A scum-sucking slug like Drury would leave a trail of slime or at the very least a stench of rotten.

  One good thing about Drury being here—the only good thing as far as Liam could see—was that Myron definitely had some solid intel. Drury wouldn’t be interested otherwise. Nor would he take the chance of getting caught if it wasn’t worth the risk.

  Pressing his earwig, Liam said, “Eve, get Myron away from here. Drury’s looking for him.”

  “Copy that,” Eve replied.

  Though it sounded as if a few fistfights were still going on, the din behind him had quieted to a low roar. On alert for any movement, Liam entered the darkened hallway. Drury would be out for blood. Last time they’d met, they’d had a brutal, bloody fight. Liam had come out the victor in that one, and Drury no doubt held a grudge. Especially since Liam was directly responsible for Drury’s most recent prison stint.

  “Long time no see, Stryker.”

  The voice came from the shadows in front of him. When Drury stepped into the light, Liam fought to keep a straight face. Dressed in a flowered silk shirt and white slacks, his hair pulled back into some kind of man bun, Drury definitely made a fashion statement. The black T-shirt and jeans Liam wore were downright sloppy and boring compared to Drury’s slick style. The man did sleaze all too well.

  “I’d hoped the ‘no see’ part would’ve lasted a lot longer. How’d you get out of prison?”

  “Would you believe good behavior?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, me neither. Turns out I’ve got friends with connections.”

  “Wait…you have friends?”

  “Your insults mean nothing to me.”

  As much fun as the guy was to taunt, this was as deadly serious as it got. Lives were at stake. “Then why don’t we cut to the chase? Why are you here?”

  “Same reason you are. Information.”

  “Really? You switch sides? Decide to start saving lives instead of taking them?”

  “Last time I checked, you’re the killer.”

  “You’re lying to yourself if you think what you do doesn’t cost lives.”

  Eve’s voice sounded in his ear. “I’ve got Myron secured. Jazz and I are on the way to the safe house.”

  “Copy that.”

  “Who are you talking to, and why do you smile? I’m the one with the gun.”

  “Aw, Barney, did you learn nothing in prison?”

  Drury glared. “My name is Barnabas, not Barney.”

  A gun pressed against the back of Drury’s head. “Whoever you are,” Gideon said in a low, menacing voice, “drop your gun.”

  For such a large man, Gideon could be as quiet as a church mouse when necessary.

  Cursing, Drury lowered his weapon, and Liam took it from him. He searched and removed another gun from an ankle holster, along with a switchblade from a pocket.

  Pocketing the weapons, Liam allowed his smile to broaden. Drury had anger-management issues. “Now let’s talk about why you’re really here, Barney.”

  “None of your damn business.”

  All humor gone, Liam took a step forward and growled softly, “It’s very much my business. When did you get into human trafficking?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “A word of advice. Don’t play poker.”

  “You’ve got no reason to detain me. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Liam cocked his head. “You think I’m law enforcement, Barney?”

  Eyes gleaming with malice, he smirked. “I know exactly what you are, Stryker. You’re the man that’s going to bleed.”

  A noise behind him was his first alert that they’d missed one of Drury’s friends.

  Before Liam could turn, a familiar voice said, “Put the gun down.”

  Liam looked over his shoulder to see Xavier holding
a gun on another of Drury’s accomplices.

  “I guess today’s not my day to bleed, Barney. You, on the other hand, I’m not so sure. Xavier and Gideon, would you take these gentlemen to a safe place for me? I’ll want to talk with them a little later.”

  “Be glad to,” Gideon said. “I might just have a talk with them while we’re waiting.”

  Liam threw Drury a feigned sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Barney. Guess that bleeding’s going to happen after all.”

  Surprising him, Drury only sneered as Gideon and Xavier led the man and his cohorts toward the exit. Would’ve thought he’d put up more of a fight.

  Shrugging, Liam took one last look at the melee winding down in the bar. The place was a mess. Chairs and tables were askew or turned over, and several men lay on the floor. More than a few of those who were still standing were bloodied. Only a couple of small fights remained and they looked halfhearted at best. It had been a good distraction. Get a bunch of drunken guys pissed at each other, and all sorts of things could happen.

  The thought had barely entered his head when the entire bar went dark. For just an instant, the place was silent as if everyone was in shock. Then a roar of furious voices exploded. Seconds later, the lights from cellphones flickered on, and the scene became a surreal blur of images.

  Liam pulled his flashlight from his belt and headed toward the exit, where Xavier and Gideon had taken Drury and his friends. The blackout had been a bit too convenient for his liking. The lights came on as quickly as they’d turned off. Returning his flashlight to its holder, Liam pulled his SIG. Something wasn’t right.

  He pushed open the exit door and heard a groan. Turning to his left, he found both Xavier and Gideon lying in the alleyway. His heart in his throat, he ran toward them. “What the hell happened?”

  Gideon sat up and leaned against the brick wall. “We got jumped. Bastard had goons waiting out here. The instant the lights went out, they tased us.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Xavier pulled himself to his feet and then stumbled. Liam grabbed hold of his shoulder. “Maybe you’d better sit down for a little longer.”

  “I’m fine, just pissed. Haven’t been tased in a while. Forgot how much it hurts.”

  Relieved that his friends were okay, Liam looked out at the empty alleyway. Score one for Drury. He had underestimated the man. Apparently the bastard had found a few new sleazeball friends.

  Liam shrugged off the aggravation. Yeah, he’d wanted to have some one-on-one time with the slimeball. The man was into something new, and it wasn’t good. But right now, Liam had bigger fish to fry. The reason for being here was waiting in a safe house miles away. He and Drury would meet up again someday soon and he would make sure he was ready.

  Getting the intel that Myron had for him was a priority. The man apparently had something good or Drury wouldn’t have been so prepared. He was just glad they’d managed to spirit Myron away before Drury got to him.

  Even if the info didn’t lead him to his ultimate destination, if it saved someone from the hell of slavery, then he’d damn well follow through.

  And one day, he would do what he’d promised himself over a decade ago. He would find Cat and bring her home.

  Chapter Eight

  Bakersfield, California

  “Tell me what plans you had for your life, Brenda.”

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t this!” The sharp, acidic retort came from a woman filled with so much pain, it had to spill out or she would implode.

  Aubrey didn’t back away from the hostility and never blinked. Her expression of compassion and empathy was authentic. She was intimately familiar with such pain.

  Brenda stared at the wall behind Aubrey for several long moments and then, after releasing a long, ragged sigh, she closed her eyes. A single, lone tear rolled down her lined face. The woman was in her early thirties but looked a decade older.

  Though they were only a few moments from finishing the interview, Aubrey was tempted to offer another break. It had been an excruciating conversation. What should have lasted one hour at the most had stretched into a three-hour ordeal. They’d stopped so many times, her editors were probably going to pull their hair out when they got the raw footage. Aubrey didn’t see that she’d had any choice. Even though Brenda had agreed to the interview, there had been times Aubrey was sure they’d have to stop for good.

  She reminded herself that if today’s interview was difficult, the first one had been agonizing. Aubrey had interviewed Brenda several years ago for her film documentary, The Lost Ones. Brenda had still been in rehab and was, in her own words, a wreck of a human being. Seeing the woman’s progress, made Aubrey glad that Brenda had contacted her for a second interview. Although Brenda still suffered, she had come so very far from the deeply ravaged individual she’d once been.

  Brenda released another ragged sigh, prompting Aubrey to ask, “Do you want to take a break?”

  “No. Let me get this out. Both my therapist and I feel this will be a cathartic release for me. Also, if I can help just one person with my story, then it will be worth it.”

  “All right. Tell me what plans you had for your life before you were taken.”

  “I was going to be a pianist.” Brenda’s mouth trembled slightly and then became a straight line again. “I’d been accepted into Juilliard on a scholarship. My whole life was ahead of me.”

  Instead of attending Juilliard, she’d been abducted at a shopping mall and sold into sexual slavery. She’d been rescued several years later but had to battle fiercely to get her life back. She’d become addicted to cocaine and heroin while in captivity, and it had taken her years of rehab and therapy before she achieved any normalcy. Though she was now a piano teacher and had recently become engaged, her life was a far cry from what it should have been.

  This was the reason Aubrey felt compelled to do this particular documentary. People knew the hideousness of human trafficking. A large percentage of the victims were never rescued, and many died while in captivity. The ones who were rescued were never the same. Revealing the ugliness of human trafficking wasn’t a difficult task. But the aftereffects were rarely explored. After reporting the initial horror story, few journalists followed up on the victims years later.

  When Brenda had been abducted, she had been a bright-eyed, intelligent seventeen-year-old with the whole world in front of her. She spent almost eight years in captivity before she was rescued. It had taken her more than three years to overcome her addictions and an additional five years to find a new path for herself. Now, at thirty-three, she was finally carving out a good life, but she still suffered. It took only one look in her eyes to see her pain.

  “Brenda, you wanted to do this interview. You contacted me so you could get your story told. Is there anything you want to say to the people who will see this interview?”

  She took a deep breath, and with a determination Aubrey deeply admired, Brenda faced the camera. Her eyes burned with a fierce intensity. “Live life to the fullest. Never take a day for granted. Live, love, and be happy, but also never let your guard down. Be vigilant. Be aware of your surroundings. Learn how to protect yourself. Make sure your children know how to protect themselves.” She swallowed audibly and then added a heartbreaking final statement. “Don’t let what happened to me happen to you or someone you love.”

  Aubrey waited for a few seconds, not only to allow Brenda to add more if she liked, but to give the viewer a chance to see the incredibly strong woman behind the pain.

  When there were no additional words, Aubrey said, “Thank you, Brenda, for sharing your story with us again. You’ve come so far and I, for one, am in awe of your strength and courage. I know you’ve helped a lot of people.” Aubrey gave her cameraman the halt signal, and the camera light went off.

  While her crew gathered their equipment, Aubrey focused on Brenda. Though she looked teary-eyed, her shoulders were much less tense than they had been when they’d first started.


  “You did great.”

  A small smile lit up the other woman’s face. “Thank you for agreeing to interview me again. I know my story isn’t front-page headlines anymore.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not still important and timely. That’s why I’m doing this new film. People need to see more than just the initial horror. They need to witness the incredible strength of a survivor.

  “You said you would feel it was worth it if you could help even one person. I can promise you that you helped a lot more than that.”

  “Thank you. I—” Brenda stopped when someone called her name. As she looked over her shoulder, her entire demeanor changed. She held out her hand to the tall, stocky man standing a few feet away. Aubrey had met Brenda’s fiancé the day before. The two were so much in love. The naked emotion on John’s face when he looked at Brenda was almost too painful to watch. To be the recipient of that kind of love had to be a glorious feeling.

  Brenda went into John’s arms and he held her close. A heaviness lying on her chest, Aubrey stepped away. If she didn’t get out of here, she’d soon be in tears. She was happy Brenda had found the love she so deserved but the emotions were too much.

  Calling out a goodbye and a promise to send her a link to the finished work, Aubrey walked out the door. She drew in a cleansing breath of air.

  As her team high-fived each other and talked about where they wanted to go for dinner, Aubrey stared into the darkness and remembered a beautiful, golden voice making a promise that would never be fulfilled.

  When had she stopped thinking of him every day? It had been a gradual thing. At first, she had been desperate to find out what had happened to him. When she didn’t get those answers, she learned to live with the memories of their short acquaintance. The timbre of his voice, the way he’d pause while telling a story, to give her time to absorb the nuance. She loved how he could make her laugh. There had been so little to laugh about then, but somehow Lion had managed to do that.

  Now she heard him only in her dreams. He seemed a million miles away, a fantasy that couldn’t be real.