Protector: City of Sin

by Jenny Lynn

  I dialed Bishop and put him on speakerphone, pouring myself a mug of coffee and working on breakfast. He picked up after the first ring; clearly he had been waiting for my call.

  "Beckett, I looked into that number," he said right off the bat. No beating around the bush, but even though he was being direct I was confused.

  "What number?" I asked, turning the bacon and sausages.

  "The one you sent me last night? You asked me to look into it," he said. "Don't you remember?"

  I paused then it came back to me; before I passed out I asked Bishop to get me everything he could find tied to the man's number - by whatever means necessary. He had the number printed on cards, black with gold plated numbers, like the one he slipped into my pocket the night of the auction. You don't go through the effort printing cards unless you're handing them out, and whenever you share information, that leaves a trail.

  "There wasn't much," Bishop said, likely to temper my expectations. I had already figured there wouldn't be. "But I was able to bribe the right people to get something."

  "I knew I could count on you," I felt hopeful. Anything was better than nothing. "Let me know what you paid them, I'll reimburse you."

  He grunted, which was “Bishop-speak” for “okay”.

  "The number is registered to an account in Mexico, but is borderless," he said. "Whoever has that number seems to travel a lot, it’s mentioned on multiple dark web forums. It seems to be registered to a man that goes by the name Charles. No last name, no photo, but there are a few mentions of him being a bit of a ladies man. I guess he’s slept with the daughters of a couple of his competitors, one of their wives, and then something about a housekeeper..."

  I cringed, thinking back on our meeting, on the face of the man who had Ella in his grasp. He wasn't ugly, I thought begrudgingly, at least not on the outside. He had angular features, was tall with a slim frame. A pretty boy. I couldn't wait to get him away from his guards and beat that face of his bloody.

  "Not much of a ladies man if he needs to buy a woman," I said angrily, tilting my breakfast onto a plate and sliding a couple pieces of whole wheat bread into the toaster.

  "He's pretty careful not to have information linking that number to anything identifying - it's paid for with cash, no registered address, nothing law enforcement could use - which might explain why he doesn't care to hand it out. Seems like his trade is mainly criminal, drugs. Top of the pyramid, only deals directly with bulk buyers."

  "So I'm dealing with a drug dealer, who is hiding out in Mexico, probably in a heavily guarded and secured location, and with local police on the payroll."

  "Looks like," Bishop said, "but there’s no guarantee he's even there right now. If he came to Vegas without any issues, he's probably careful enough to appear clean on paper, so he can travel freely. He's both under the radar, and arrogant, at the same time. Don't underestimate him. From what I've gathered he can be brutal, bloody, calculating and sadistic."

  "All the more reason to get Ella away from him as fast as I can."

  I dropped my toast onto my plate, sitting at the counter ready to get to work on my breakfast. My body needed fuel; my mind and heart needed more liquor.

  “He’s killed before, Beckett,” Bishop warned.

  “That’s never stopped me before.”

  "So that's your brilliant plan," Bishop said. "Go to Mexico, in unfamiliar territory, with no support, and just grab Ella then run?"

  "I'm still working out the finer details, but yeah. Pretty much," I grumbled, biting into a slice of bacon.

  "That's not a plan," Bishop snapped. "It's idiocy, that's what it is."

  "With all due respect, I don't exactly have a lot of options."

  He scoffed, his voice rough over the speakerphone. "People who say they don't have options are the same ones who refuse to take the time to examine all of the possibilities."

  Bishop was working up to something, and since he was stalling, I already knew it was something I wasn’t going to like.

  "And what options am I missing here, exactly?"

  He paused. Here it comes.

  "Bring a partner with you for support when - not if - things get hairy. You can't do this alone, you’ll have a better chance with backup."

  I sighed. "Bishop, I appreciate that, but I could never put you in that position. It's too risky, not to mention you're not as young as you used to be."

  "Watch your mouth boy, don't forget I taught you everything you know,” he said. “I could still whoop your ass. And I wasn't talking about me. I think you should bring Shane."

  I choked on my coffee, sputtering. "Shane?" I repeated, making sure I heard him right. "Your new kid? He's not ready."

  Bishop sighed. "No, he isn't. But what you can teach him is something he's missing, something I can't hammer into him. He needs to see it for himself. Shane needs to be close to a person who found the one thing he was missing that made you not only powerful, but also careful."

  I was confused. "I'm not sure I follow. What can I teach him? Everything I learned, I've learned from you, Bishop."

  “Not everything. There's a lot of risk in this world Beckett. I can direct your anger, teach you how to channel it. Train you to fight better, harder, smarter. But I don't want to make monsters, not again. Not... like Axel."

  I suddenly realized how much it pained him, his former student becoming a vicious and highly trained killing machine, hurting innocent people without remorse. Axel turned himself into the Shadow, and now, Bishop was doubting his ability to teach Shane.

  "Shane is at a crossroads right now, I can see it clearly this time, the subtle signs I didn’t see when I trained Axel. I need Shane to choose the right path. He needs to know there are things in this world worth fighting for, Beckett. I taught you to kill, but that girl - she taught you to love. I need Shane to see that, and I need you to get out of there in one piece. He’s a good fighter, he’s clever, he thinks on his feet. Taking Shane gives you a better chance. If you won't consider doing it for me, consider doing it for her."

  I closed my eyes. I worked better alone, always alone, but this could give me an advantage. I had to admit that. The silence hung around me, heavy and uncomfortable.

  "When will you ask him?" I said finally.

  "I already did," he told me matter of fact. "Shane already agreed. I can get him on a flight to you tonight."

  "Send him," I said. "But I hope he understands the stakes; I'm coming back with Ella, or I'm not coming back at all."

  "I know, son," Bishop said, as gently as possible with his gruff drill sergeant voice. "That's what I need him to understand. There is a lot in this life you can fight over, reasons to kill, but there are precious few things in this world worth dying for."

  I knew all too well what he meant. Seeing the people responsible for my parents’ death brought to justice. Protecting the woman I loved. You could have everything, but nothing, without people in your life that made you feel complete. That was worth risking the ultimate price.

  I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, for both Ella’s sake and mine, but if it did - I was ready.

  23

  Ella

  I slept through the night, deep and dreamless, the combination of alcohol and exhaustion acting like a powerful sedative - shock probably played a part as well. I'm not sure how long I would have kept sleeping had I not felt the sensation of a hand softly stroking my hair, fingers weaving themselves gently through the strands. It felt familiar, intimate, and comforting.

  Beckett...

  I sighed softly, caught between dream and reality, opening my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings - and an unfamiliar face.

  Charles!

  I snapped my head to the left, away from his touch. He seemed completely unfazed by my reaction, seated comfortably beside me on the bed. How long had he been there, watching me? Touching me? I didn't ask, it was better not to know. I pushed myself up, covering my body with the blankets.

  "Good morning," he said. "It's time fo
r you to get ready for our day."

  "Okay," I said flatly.

  He frowned and seemed disappointed that I didn't ask what we would be doing. I didn't care - I knew whatever it was, I would absolutely hate it.

  "I laid out your clothes," he said, his voice colder now. Charles stood up and walked towards the door without looking back. "Make yourself presentable and be downstairs in twenty minutes."

  He didn't close the door, and I didn't bother to either. What was the point? As his actions kept reminding me; I had no privacy here. I was a prisoner, held against my will in a golden cage.

  I looked around and noticed on a chair by the window there was a yellow dress, bright like a daffodil, laid out for me - just like he said. I cringed when I noticed the accompanying white lace bra and underwear. One; because he had laid out my underwear for me. And two; because I hated lace underwear - but, when I touched the fabric, I was surprised they didn't feel scratchy like I expected them to be. The tag told me they were La Perla, high end and expensive. I felt sick to my stomach and said a silent prayer that Chales wouldn't ask to see me in them.

  I didn't have time for a shower. I stripped out of last night's clothes and got dressed. In the bathroom I splashed my face with cold water, brushed my hair, then used a few of the toiletries left out to freshen up.

  I headed downstairs, past the living room where we sat together last night, where he had blackmailed me into kissing him. I was disgusted with myself then, and even more so now. Did Charles even know anything about Dana? Was this all just another mind game, cooked up by a sadistic asshole to toy with me?

  I found him in the dining room, seated at a table piled high with plates of food; fresh fruit, eggs, meats, pastries, and drinks. I sat myself at the opposite end, as far away from him as possible, begrudgingly eyeing everything hungrily. I was starving. Charles watched me as he poured himself a cup of coffee, dropping in two sugar cubes, then he stirred.

  "You must be hungry," he said. "Eat."

  I hated that every simple pleasure I was granted right now; my clothes, a bed, food - it was all his to give or take away. He craved power and control, that much was obvious, and this was just another extension of that. A reminder of the imbalance that existed between us; captor and captive, purchaser and property.

  I stood up, holding my plate, filling it with anything that looked appetizing - which was nearly everything, since I had been deprived of food for so long. He was reading something on a tablet while I filled a mug with coffee. I poured in cream, dropped in four cubes of sugar, every movement under his gaze.

  "You look lovely this morning," he said. "That dress suits you."

  "Thank you," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

  I took my plate and the coffee back to the far end of the table. I didn't want him to think for a fraction of a second that I enjoyed his company, or that his compliments meant anything to me. But I also didn't want to further antagonize a narcissistic, cold, and vicious man. Surviving here would be a delicate, painful balance.

  I ate my breakfast and tried to ignore the fact that he was watching me closely, scrutinizing my body language. There was something uneasy about his expression, as if he was looking for something specific.

  "You really do look like your sister," he said finally.

  I almost choked on my food from how quickly my head snapped in his direction. "Not exactly, of course,” he added. “But there is without a doubt a family resemblance."

  "You bring her up whenever you want something from me," I said. "What's your reason for bringing her up now?"

  "Alright. I'd like to take you into town today, Ella," he said. "I have business to attend to, and I'm not comfortable leaving you here alone - not yet. Even if I locked you in a room, chained to a pipe, something tells me you're crafty enough to get into some type of trouble that would displease me. So, I would like you to accompany me. And I want you to be on your best behavior."

  "That sounds like a lovely way to spend a day with my kidnapper," I said, returning my attention to my breakfast.

  "It can be, if you’d relax a bit," he said. "But I'm aware you need motivation more than threats to keep you in line. Otherwise, I can't trust that you won't make yourself a liability."

  "So what do you propose?" I asked. "You don't trust me, and you have nothing I want - except for my freedom, which we both know you'll never give me, and information about Dana, which you can only give me once. Then I’ll know whatever it is you know."

  "That's not exactly true," he took his phone from his pocket and placed it down on the table. "I have information about Dana, that’s true. But I'm also your only link to her. Would you like to hear her voice again, Ella?"

  I froze, my blood turned to ice in my veins, goosebumps scattered across my skin despite the heat. "I don't believe you," I said. It was impossible - but then again, it was also entirely possible that she was still alive. And that Charles knew how to reach her.

  "Agree you'll stay by my side today, quiet and obedient, while I take care of certain matters that need my attention - and I'll prove it to you."

  I nodded without hesitation.

  "Say it, Ella," Charles commanded. "I want to hear you say that you'll obey me."

  "I will, I'll obey you,” my voice was desperate. “Whatever you ask, if you really can let me speak with my sister Charles, I’ll obey you."

  He smiled, victorious, then he picked up the phone and dialed. My heart was racing. With the phone pressed to his ear, he waited and watched me with those intense eyes of his.

  "Hello - yes, it's me. I have her here - is she ready? Good, good. Then I'm going to put the phone on speaker."

  Charles placed the phone down on the table, watching me with a smirk. I couldn't move, couldn't speak. This was impossible; Dana was gone. She was dead, she had to be dead. If it was as easy as giving me a call, she would have done it. She wouldn't have abandoned me, left me chasing her ghost for years, stripped me of the only family I had left. She wouldn't do that to me. She couldn’t.

  "Ella? Are you there?"

  Lies. A trick. It had to be.

  "Dana? Is - is that really you?"

  "Oh my God… yes. Yes it is, my little Bambi deer. Listen, I need you to know I'm sorry. I’m so, so sorry for everything."

  I gasped, a sob catching in my throat, my face twisting.

  Bambi deer.

  Dana's nickname for me. No one else knew about it, it was ours, affectionately given to me by my older sister because I had long clumsy legs, because she saw me as wide-eyed and innocent. Because I was an orphan, and orphans need stories about other orphans making it through the dark times. Bambi deer. Hearing those two words, tears started to pour down my face, collecting near my nose. I was an ugly crier; I didn't care.

  "Dana, I thought you were dead." I sobbed each word. "Why didn't you contact me? I've been so worried, I've been lost without you. You were all I had left, and then you were gone. Where are you?"

  "Ella, you have to listen to me. This world you're in now, it's dangerous. I need you to listen to everything Charles asks, he's... complicated. Everything is both complicated and simple now."

  "That's quite enough for now," Charles said, his voice emotionless.

  "Charles, please," Dana begged from the phone. "Don't punish my sister. Don't take your anger out on her because of me."

  "Say goodbye, Ella," he said.

  "No, please," I pleaded. “Not yet.” My head was spinning, was this a dream? A nightmare? Was anything real anymore?

  "Be brave, Bambi girl. No matter what that monster tries to do to you, remember how strong you are. Remember you're not alone, you have a sister who loves you. Charles, you enormous assho-"

  Charles pressed a button, ending the call and severing the only link I've had to Dana in five painful years.

  "No!" I shrieked, launching myself from my chair, rushing for the phone as Charles calmly slid it back into his pocket.

  "I didn't get to say goodbye, you didn't even let me
say goodbye."

  I was shaking now, with pain or rage I couldn't tell. The two were so closely linked.

  "I said you could speak with your sister, I delivered on my end of the bargain. Now it's time for you to live up to yours." Charles got to his feet. "Go clean yourself up, Ella. You look like a mess. Meet me outside in ten minutes."

  I grabbed my mug of coffee, ready to launch it at his back as he walked away. I felt helpless and I hated him for it - hated him more than I've ever hated anyone in my entire life. He held my one link to my sister, the one thing that was worth more to me than anything; my body, my sanity, my life.

  He won this round, and the bastard knew it.

  Begrudgingly, I found a nearby bathroom and washed the tears from my face. My skin was blotchy and my eyes were bloodshot; I looked miserable. I walked back the way I came, out the front doors, and I climbed into the idling car that was waiting for me.

  Charles gave me a wink. My stomach churned in revulsion, and I turned my head towards the window. If I looked at him right now I wasn't sure I would be able to control myself. I wanted to slap his face, claw out his eyes, draw blood. Anything to make him feel, if he was in fact capable of feeling anything.

  I watched the scenery as we traveled; the air hovered above the asphalt, wavy in the oppressive heat. The air inside the car was crisp and cool by contrast, the driver navigating to whatever the destination may be. I didn't know, and I didn't care.

  When we left the main road, where the pavement gave way to rough and rocky terrain, the buildings became more decrepit. I saw a group of men waiting far off in the distance, and when the driver turned his wheel it became clear that was our destination.

  The group looked in our direction as the car approached. Charles unbuttoned the sleeves of his tailored dress shirt and carefully folded them over his lean forearms. The car rolled to a stop and he turned towards me.

  "Be a good girl and wait here for me," he said. "I won't be long."