by K. A Knight
Her hair is curly and free around her shoulders like I instructed—they are less likely to check it then. She looks stunning, as always. I open her door for her as she slips in and then join her, pulling out of the driveway and heading to the club.
When we get there, we park in a different area this time, not wanting him to be watching or waiting, and I go in first again. I lean back near the bar, watching the comings and goings. He’s here, up in the VIP section, watching the club goers with a ferocious glint in his eyes. He’s looking for girls.
My girl.
I know as soon as she enters the room, I can feel it, like a tug in my heart. I turn my head without thinking, my eyes finding her at the doorway. Her head is thrown back, her eyes defiant and confident, her shoulders loose. She’s the epitome of grace and confidence. She runs her gaze around the room, meeting Jamie’s where he’s sitting, and grins, a flirty little one that sets my hackles on edge.
Once this is over, her ass is going to be so red she won’t be able to sit for a week.
She heads straight to him. I watch as the man’s bodyguard, Christian, straightens, his face going blank. His eyes are angry, but I don’t think it’s at her. He seemed to genuinely like her, but even that won’t make him go against his boss.
She saunters straight to the booth and slips in opposite him as I watch, folding her hands on the table and waiting as he leans back, seemingly not knowing what to do. If the girls aren’t conscious or drugged, he is useless. The little prick.
Clenching my jaw, I make sure to look around every now and again, to try and blend in, even as my instincts are screaming at me to run over there, kill the bastard, and drag her back to my house and lock her up.
I can see their mouths moving, but not what they are saying, so imitating a customer, I move through the dance floor and to VIP, and straight to the booth behind them, not making eye contact, blending in with the rest of the party goers. Once I sit down, I order another drink and lean back, pretending to watch the dancers, even as I strain my ears to hear them over the music.
I should have put a microphone in her GPS, fuck privacy. My drink drops on my table from a smiling waitress and I can’t muster one back, so I nod and she frowns as she moves away. Playing with the glass, I catch the end of the conversation and nearly growl.
“Thought you were so smart. Come on, hotness, you’re working for someone. Is it the cops? It’s not like you figured it out, so why not tell me everything you know?” he snaps, his nasally voice making me want to punch him in the cock then cut it off and feed it to him.
“I’m not working for anyone,” she scoffs. “As for my intellect, you’re one to talk. Drugging the girls and bringing them to your office for the whole club to find? Not even password protecting your laptop? You’re the stupid one here.”
That’s my girl.
I hear him bang on the table, and I have to grip my own to stop myself from interrupting. “I want to know what you know, Nadia, these people they aren’t messing around, they will kill you. This isn’t some game for you to play to keep you entertained, this is life or death.”
“Fine, why don’t you tell me about it?” she counters silkily.
“Cut the shit, bitch!” he yells, and then I hear him breathing heavily. “Fucking hell, I’m trying to keep you alive here, tell me what you know and I’ll cut a deal with them.”
Liar, I know he already called them as soon as she walked in. This is just to see how much she knows and suss out if she’s working for anyone.
“Trying to keep me alive? Like you did those girls? You’re like a fucked up delivery boy...Jamie, what the fuck happened? I thought I knew you,” she says softly, almost hurt.
“You do,” he insists. “So I need you to trust me. I did what I had to do to protect myself and this business that I worked so hard for, and if that means doing what they want, then so be it. I don’t know these women, they mean nothing to me, but you do. So, Nadia, please, tell me what you know?”
There’s silence then, and I can feel her trying to figure out how to get the information out of him that we need. “Fine, let’s make a deal, I’ll tell you what I know, but I want you to fill in the gaps.”
Silence again, well, apart from the bass, music, and laughter of the customers. “Fine,” he eventually concedes.
“Good, you start, what do they have on you to make you do this?” she inquires, her voice louder, she must be leaning closer to him.
“Nadia,” he warns, but she must just stare him down, because I hear him sigh. “I have a wife.”
I hear her suck in a breath.
“She doesn’t know about—”
“About you fucking everything that moves?” she snaps. “Fucking hell, I’m the cheater. You made me that, you bastard. But that can’t be enough to make you do this.”
“You’re right, it’s not, I fucked her sister, okay? She’s pregnant.”
“Holy fuck,” she exclaims, and I hear her slump in the seat. “You knocked up your sister-in-law and they threatened to tell your wife about all your escapades.”
“Show them,” he snarls. “Nadia, I had no choice, I can’t lose my wife, I love her.”
“Not enough to stay faithful though, clearly,” she bites back. “Okay, okay, so they are blackmailing you then giving you a cut to keep you paid and happy, and you, what? Pick a girl at random, drug her, and let them pick her up?”
“Sort of, sometimes they ask for certain traits or girls, other times they don’t care. I pick someone no one will miss, I make sure of it. No kids, no family,” he explains, placating her.
“That makes it better?” She snorts.
“Fine, I’m a horrible fucking person, is that what you want? What about you, Nadia? Will anyone miss you, because I really don’t think they will!”
He’s wrong, so very wrong. Not only would I miss her, I’d kill everyone to find her.
“It doesn’t give you the right, any right. What you’re doing is sick and vile. Do you wonder what happens to the women after? Huh? Or do you just ignore it so you can claim innocence, you piece of shit? What about Alena, what happened to her?”
“Who?” he questions, sounding genuinely confused.
I can almost feel her anger and hatred from here. “The girl you almost fucked on your desk, who you drugged and sold. Her name was Alena, you cunt.”
“Enough of this, we had a deal, tell me what you know,” he demands, his voice low and threatening now, he’s done playing. I check my phone when it goes off, an alert from the back door CCTV, the van is here.
The air in my lungs freezes over, this is really happening. I force myself to breathe normally and stay relaxed, think of her.
“Nah, I don’t keep deals with scum,” she spits venomously.
“Then you leave me no choice, you will have to go with them, Nadia.” He sighs, sounding sincerely put out. It won’t save him from the death he will find at my hands.
“Or what?” she challenges, sounding cocky, faking it well. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t even spot the tremors of nerves in her voice.
“Or I’m afraid Christian here is going to have to knock you out. Wouldn’t you rather go by your own volition so you know what happens to you? Though, thinking about it, it might be kinder to knock you out.” He sighs.
It’s a hard decision, but before she even speaks, I know what hers will be. She will go with them, not just because of the mission, but that’s the type of person she is. She’s a fighter.
“Fine, let’s go then, no point putting this shit off, but Jaime? You’ll get your comeuppance, this is bigger than you even know and you are nothing but a lackey, and you know what happens to them, right? They get left behind. I wonder, when they fall...will you?”
I hear her get up, and when I glance around, I see Christian gripping her arm, glaring down at her like he expected more of her. I see his grip cutting into her arm and have to stop myself from shooting him. It’s just a bruise, I remind myself, but he will die
as well. Starting with those fingers he’s touching her with.
She is led downstairs while Jamie stays in the booth, drinking away the conversation. I slip from mine and blend back into the crowd. I hate that I have to leave her now, but I go to my car, ready to get to the warehouse, trusting she will be okay. I load up my phone and put it on the dash, the GPS blinking to show me her location in the alley.
I know they will bring her to the warehouse, untouched, they have to. So I start the car and pull away, heading there to beat her. With each mile I put between us, my heart sinks and my anger takes over.
I have never wanted to end a mission so badly...or kill this much. It’s a physical ache, to rip them to pieces and take her in the aftermath, reminding myself who she belongs to.
Or whom I belong to.
Chapter Thirty-One
Nadia
I’m escorted to the alleyway out back, and my heart slams into my chest, the fear finally emerging. In there, talking with him, outrage had taken precedence, but now? Now I’m scared. I don’t fight, I don’t even resist. How could I? It wouldn’t make a difference and I wanted this, after all.
It makes me wonder if this is how the other girls felt, scared and alone. They won’t be ever again. I’m going to stop this once and for all.
Christian tugs me along harshly, making me trip over my heels as I spot the van up ahead with its doors open, waiting for me. “Stupid girl,” he hisses. I can’t look at him, too busy trying not to fall over. “Should have ran when you had the chance and not come back. I can’t save you,” he snaps, and then quiets when a man emerges from the van, a cigarette in hand.
“I don’t need you to,” I whisper back, and trace the man’s impassive features, his hair hidden under a hat. He flicks his cigarette away and blows smoke in my face.
“In the back,” he demands, his accent thick as he heads around the van and gets in the front.
Christian picks me up and throws me inside. I gasp, my body rolling over the carpeted floor until I smash into a divider with a groan, my ribs aching from the impact. Picking up my head, I blink at him as he stares at me from the van’s doors. “I’m sorry, Nadia, I really am,” he tells me, before shaking his head and slamming them shut.
The rap of his knuckles on the back door makes me jump as I sit up and look around at the interior. It’s almost pitch-black back here with the doors closed, only a small interior light casting shadows around the empty van. Nothing else is here, only a carpet. I even try to lift it to see if there is anything to use as a weapon, even though I know they will search me.
Forcing myself to sit back and act calm, I curl up in the corner, pressing my legs to the other side of the van to stop from sliding around as we head to the processing warehouse. I think of Keanu, knowing he will be there waiting. He will have to act, of course, pretend he doesn’t know me. That I’m nothing but stock. I prepare myself for that. For seeing his beautiful face twisted in disgust and coldness. But all I can see is his face tonight when he hugged me to him from behind. I saw the terror in his eyes, the utter devotion crossing his face. He was weak in that moment, letting me see it all.
I have to think of that every time I stare at him. It’s an act, I remind myself. I have a feeling I will be reminding myself of that a lot over the next few days. The drive can’t be too long, but it feels like forever. My nerves race through me, and my stomach flips as I suck in breaths to try and calm myself. When I raise my hand to push back my hair, I find it shaking. Fuck, get it together, Nadia.
You’re a badass ninja woman, we can do this.
I can do this...I have to. For Alena.
For every girl.
When we pull to a stop, I tilt my head back and ignore the bile in my throat as I crawl to the door and wait. I feel the driver’s side door slam as he comes around and yanks open the back. Another man joins him then as they look at me. The newcomer nods and reaches in, grabbing me, but my instincts kick in.
I fight and scream. I kick and punch, managing to connect with his nose and nuts, making him growl and backhand me. I land on the cement floor with a crash, ignoring the already pulsing, aching feeling of my face, which hit the hard ground. Shit, that was stupid, but at least now they will believe I’m not a plant or a mole.
I’m picked up and my hands are restrained with rope. I can feel my eye swelling as I blink through the pain. The man gets right in my face and points. “No trouble or you get worse than that shiner, now fucking move!” he yells, and yanks me after him.
He doesn’t slow his strides as he drags me after him through a warehouse. When the men gathered inside spot me, they holler and laugh, making crude comments, which I block out as I tilt my head back and meet their eyes defiantly. I see where we’re heading and my heart skips a beat.
Keanu.
He’s sitting at a table with some other men, cards and beer in front of him, looking at me like everyone else, but his face is cold and empty. There is nothing there of the man I love, this is a predator. For a moment, I forget he’s doing this for me, to protect me, and I almost cringe. Recovering quickly, I grit my teeth and stumble after the man as he stops at the table and passes him the rope.
“Get her in a cell, newbie, you’re on guard tonight,” the man orders, before walking away, leaving me with Keanu. He stands with a groan, throwing his cards and staring at me.
“Move, now!” he demands, yanking me forward and almost into him, his hand squeezing mine for a second before he turns and moves quickly across the floor to a hallway hidden in the corner.
It’s just an act, I repeat mentally, as he drags me along, uncaring that he’s almost tripping me, not even looking at me. That first glare was enough alone, he’s a good actor. But it’s more than that, he has gone to that place, the same one he goes to when he kills or tortures. Except he forgets, I know that side of him too. So I’m not afraid of him even now, even as convincing as his act is.
He is still mine.
Once we hit the hallway and move into the dark, he doesn’t lose the act and I’m betting he doesn’t want to get caught, especially not so soon. So I start to fake struggle, flailing around and screaming, even though we both know I could land a hit or a punch.
“Let me go, you sick pervert!” I shriek, almost winking at him. Isn’t that the same thing I once screamed at him?
He drags me farther down the hall to the last door on the left and throws me up against the wall there, his arm banding across my throat, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring as he leans in, looking menacing. To anyone else it would look like he was threatening me, maybe even hurting me. To us? I know he’s giving me a moment with him, for both his sake and mine.
“Are you okay?” he hisses quietly, before raising his voice. “Shut up and I won’t have to hurt you,” he says loudly.
“I’m okay, they didn’t hurt me,” I whisper back, before letting out a whimper. He flinches at the noise but nods.
“What’s with the eye?” he asks, as he slams me back into the wall again, not even trying to use half of his strength.
“Don’t worry about it,” I whisper, knowing he needs to keep moving or they might get suspicious, but his eyes just narrow and I know he won’t until I answer.
“Who?” he snaps, true anger on his face now. Maybe it’s not just an act.
“Big guy, who gave you the rope,” I tell him, and he snarls.
“Razor,” he growls the name like an omen, and I know he will be the first to die.
“What kind of name is Razor? His momma sure as shit didn’t name him that.” I snort and his lips twitch.
“Stay strong, Brat,” he whispers lovingly before pulling his arm away. “Good, now stay quiet!” he yells, and grips my shoulder as he unlocks the cell and pushes me inside.
He follows after me, snapping off the rope, and I hear whimpers and cries from the other occupants of the room at his entrance, and know that must be killing him. He wants to help everyone, save them, and right now even the sight of him terrifi
es them. But he doesn’t let it show, no, he runs his eyes around the room before backing away.
They land on me once more, a multitude of messages in them before he turns on his heel and leaves, slamming the door shut as I hear a lock click into place. With the light from the hallway not streaming through the door anymore, I have to squint into the darkness until my eyes get used to the lack of light.
I can just see shadows...lumps...people?
“Hello?” I call, and someone shushes me.
“Are you okay? How many of there are you?” I ask, turning around, trying to find them.
“Shut up! Don’t you know you’ll make them come back?” a dark voice snaps.
My eyes finally adjust, and I can see the women now. There are four of them by the looks of it. Nothing else is in the room but filthy mattresses lying on the stone-cold floor. Not a window, a light, nothing. Sitting cross-legged, I look from one to the other, hope building in me at not being able to make out their faces. “Alena?” I have to ask, even though Keanu told me she wasn’t here.
“Who?” one replies, and I sigh, my hope crumbling around me, but I quickly shake it off and straighten.
“My name is Nadia, what’s yours?” I address the one who spoke, her voice soft and melodic.
It’s silent for a moment before she emerges from the shadows in the corner of the room and scoots closer, almost crawling to me, stopping every now and again and listening to see if anyone is coming and she needs to dart back to her hiding spot. She reminds me of a wounded dog, once abused and trying to trust a new owner. It breaks my heart.
She finally stops before me on her knees, half turned back to her corner, her eyes nervous and darting everywhere, deep brown in colour with golden flecks. Her eyebrows are high and arched, her lips plump but dry. Her hair is the same brown, falling in greasy strands around her dirt smudged, pale face. She must be around my age, twenty-two or twenty-three, her body thin and athletic...or malnourished. I can almost see her bones through her sheer white top that now sticks to her and...yoga pants? She must have been taken at the gym, or on a run or something.
