Bruiser

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Bruiser Page 24

by Whiskey, Samantha


  “He’ll pay.” Muffled voices.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “He hired those guards for her. Trust me. He’ll pay to get her back.”

  Todd.

  But how many more?

  “Which one?” the other chuckled softly.

  “We can probably charge double.”

  “You don’t want to keep the kid?”

  “Not if she’s worth cash.”

  I heard Elliott suck in her breath. My hands itched to hold her, to get her the fuck away from those monsters.

  “I’ll find you, Elliott,” I promised her, even though she couldn’t hear me.

  Then the phone died.

  The elevator chimed.

  “Give it to me,” Lukas ordered, and I did.

  He headed over to where I had an extra charger in the kitchen.

  Two suits walked in.

  The first was an older man who looked like he had one foot in retirement, and the other was a blonde woman with her hair in a tight braid.

  “Mr. Porter?” she asked.

  “You guys got here fast,” I said, offering my hand to shake, which they both did.

  “I’m Agent Daniels, and this is Agent Armstrong. Of course, when someone with such a...high profile calls, we make certain to move quickly,” she said.

  “Money talks, right?” I asked with a grimace.

  “Have you been asked for money?” she asked.

  “Looks like he’s going to be,” Paulson said, lifting the note that had been left on the entry table with a pair of tweezers.

  A moment later, Agent Daniels had it bagged.

  “That’s not Shea’s handwriting,” I told her.

  “There’s a phone number on the back,” she remarked. “Get the equipment set up,” she ordered Agent Armstrong.

  “I have a tracker on Elliott,” I told her. “Shea’s phone is dead, but give it a few minutes, and it will come online.”

  “A tracker?”

  “How much of the history do you know?” I asked.

  “Only what her security filled us in on. Domestic abuse? Stalking?”

  “Pretty much.”

  We moved toward the living room, and Agent Daniels’s eyebrows shot up at the group of guys.

  They all scattered from the couch, and she took a seat, taking over my coffee table as binders and a box appeared with Armstrong.

  “You did the right thing calling us,” she said. “Not trying to go it alone.”

  “Look, I’m a big guy. Pretty skilled with my hands, too. But I’m a hockey player, not Liam Neeson. Do we look like the cast of an action movie?” I motioned to the guys.

  “Speak for yourself,” Lukas muttered.

  “I just want my girls back,” I told Agent Daniels.

  “Then let’s get you your girls back.”

  I filled them in on the rest of the story, including the fight we’d had. I didn’t care how it looked. They needed all the information. Agent Daniels tilted her head when I told her I’d walked out last night and why, but hadn’t commented.

  “It’s back,” Lukas said from the kitchen.

  I jumped from the couch, nearly running for the phone.

  As I turned it on, the screen flickered. “No, don’t you fucking dare,” I warned it. I quickly entered the security code and fired up the tracker app.

  The screen flickered again, going fully black for a few moments before coming back.

  “Lay it flat,” Agent Daniels ordered, and I did so, putting it on the kitchen counter, still plugged in.

  The app opened, and I hit the “listen in” button, then watched as the map started to zero in on their location.

  The screen failed, going entirely black.

  “Shit,” Agent Daniels muttered.

  I could hear Elliott lightly humming to herself, but nothing else.

  “We’re all set up,” Agent Armstrong called out from the living room.

  “You monitor this,” Agent Daniels said to another suit who had to have arrived while we were in the living room.

  “I’m not leaving this phone,” I told her as she ushered me to the living room.

  “Mr. Porter, I need you to call your wife’s kidnappers. If they hear your daughter in the background, they’ll search her until they find that tracker, and right now that’s the only link to her you have.”

  I was hung up on one fact that wouldn’t let go.

  “Shea isn’t my wife.” But God, I wished she was. I wanted that connection, even if it was only vows and a last name. What was the point of waiting when you already knew? What if I was too late?

  “I’m sorry I misspoke,” Agent Daniels apologized. “Now, I need you with me. I need you to walk away from this phone into the living room and make this call with me. Can you do that?”

  “We’ll stay with the phone,” Connor said, Noble nodding with him. Somehow that made me feel better than just knowing the other suit was there.

  I nodded my thanks to them.

  “I can,” I assured her. Every step away from Shea’s phone was torture.

  “Okay, call this number,” Agent Armstrong said, pointing to the digits they’d left on the back of the note. “Biggest things you want—” he took out a laminated sheet.

  Holy shit, they had laminated kidnapping sheets.

  “You want proof of life. You won’t get it instantly, but ask.”

  “They don’t know that you have the tracker,” Agent Daniels reminded me.

  “Second, you want their demands,” Agent Armstrong added. He walked me through everything I was supposed to ask, then made me repeat it.

  By the time they handed me a phone that had been cloned to my number, I was ready to crawl out of my skin.

  I dialed the number.

  It rang twice.

  “We have what you want,” the voice answered. The guy wasn’t even disguising his voice.

  Agent Armstrong nodded at me, having checked his machinery.

  “I’m well aware. I want to talk to them.”

  He cackled like a deranged witch. “Not going to happen.”

  “Can you at least tell me if they’re okay?” My voice tensed.

  “Girl is fine. Woman is still napping.”

  “She’s been unconscious since this morning? I’ve seen the security footage. I know you hit her.” I barely contained my rage.

  Lukas put a hand on my shoulder, grounding me.

  “We gave her a little something extra to help her relax. She’s a feisty one. My guess is she’ll be out until morning.”

  Fuck me, they’d drugged her.

  I put the phone against my forehead for a second as my throat worked, trying to breathe through it. Elliott was alone with her. Abandoned. Probably scared to death.

  “You there?” he asked.

  “I am,” I answered.

  “Good. Now, first. No cops,” he demanded.

  I looked Agent Daniels square in the eye. “I won’t call a single police officer.”

  God bless her, she smiled.

  “You’d better not!”

  “What do you want for them? I’m assuming you didn’t want me to call just for fun.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

  “A million.”

  “Done,” I answered without even looking at Agent Daniels.

  The man breathed heavily into the phone for a moment before responding.

  “A piece.”

  Two million dollars.

  They either had no idea what I was worth, no idea what they were doing, or both.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  “I did. I’ll pay it. Do you take checks?”

  “What? No. Cash only. Unmarked, nonsequential hundred-dollar bills.”

  How original.

  “I can’t get that kind of cash until tomorrow,” I told him, my stomach rebelling at the thought of leaving my girls alone with them overnight.

  “Sure you can.”

  “No, I can’t. The banks aren’t
exactly open seeing as it’s eight pm on a Friday night, and I’ll have to liquefy some assets.”

  I had a few hundred thousand in cash in the safe, but nothing close to two million. I’d have to empty every account I had in Seattle to get that much cash, and I honestly didn’t know if I had that much liquid.

  Everything else was in investments.

  I’ve got you. Lukas’s handwriting scrawled across a piece of paper that he waved in front of me.

  Gentry waved his hands, and once he had my attention, pointed his thumbs at himself and then held up two fingers. Me, too.

  If I hadn’t been terrified for the girls, I would have lost it in gratitude.

  “Fine, tomorrow it is. You’ll meet us at—”

  No. I couldn’t trust that they’d let the girls live.

  “You’ll meet me,” I said, allowing the menace in my voice leak through. “We have the second game in our Ontario series tomorrow. Two p.m.”

  “Want to trade off at center ice?” he cackled again.

  My fist clenched, but I kept my temper. “No, I want to meet after. Too many people will notice if I’m missing from the game, and then you will have the cops involved. You bring the girls to the arena, I’ll tell you how to get to the tunnels that run under it. I’ll meet you there right after the buzzer ending the third period. We’ll make the trade, and you can walk out with the crowd. No one will even notice. You’ll be free.”

  “Walk out with the crowd?” he asked.

  “Nothing like twenty thousand people to help you get lost.”

  “Good point. Guess all you hockey players aren’t as dumb as people think.”

  Out of the two of us, I wasn’t the dumbass, that was for sure.

  “You’ll have to get there before the end of the first period,” I told him. “They shut down the entrances to those areas after first period because they assume the staff is inside. But there are no cameras down there,” I promised, telling him the truth. “You’ll be able to watch the game, or listen, or whatever. You’ll know I’m on the ice, that I’m telling the truth.”

  “You don’t show up at that game, or we see a cop, and they die.”

  My heart froze. Just because they were stupid and rash didn’t mean they wouldn’t kill the girls.

  “I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize my family.”

  He grunted.

  “You harm one hair on their heads, and I’ll burn the fucking money,” I warned, despite the grimace Agent Daniel gave me.

  “Don’t you worry. You’ll get your pretty little girls back. We’ll get our money. It’s all business, right?”

  “Right.”

  “See you tomorrow, pretty boy.”

  He hung up.

  I put my head in my hands, taking deep breaths.

  “Okay, not-Liam-Neeson what exactly were you thinking?” Agent Daniels snapped.

  “Those tunnels lock down after first period. I wasn’t lying. There’s only one way out until about an hour after the game, and it’s with the crowd. They’ll be trapped until after the game.”

  “Which is when you show up, and those tunnels open,” she argued.

  I shook my head. “I’ll be there when they arrive. They’re not going to shoot the girls when they see I’m standing there with the money. Then you guys can come save the day while they’re trapped.”

  “No offense, Porter, but how the hell are you going to do that? They’re going to notice that you’re not on the ice.” Gentry commented.

  I looked at the clock. Ten-thirty on the East Coast.

  There was only one person I knew who could impersonate me on the ice well enough to cover for the first few minutes of a game. Just warm-ups. Coach could keep him on the bench after that. Hell, he could probably carry off a shift, and we’d just leak a story that I was skating like shit because I was sick. Hell, unless the cameras got right up on him, they’d never know, that’s how close we looked alike.

  “Porter?” Lukas prompted.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed the number by heart.

  “I love you, but you’re interrupting what promises to be a very interesting threesome.” His voice was almost enough to make me smile.

  “Yeah, well kick your right and left hand out of bed. I need you to get on a fucking plane right now. I need you in Seattle by morning.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Zero hesitation.

  “Oh, and bring your skates. Your feet are a size smaller than mine.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “See you in the morning, Maddox.”

  Chapter 20

  Shea

  “Mom.”

  Elliott’s voice.

  I could hear it, but it sounded like she was speaking from the end of a very long tunnel.

  “Mom.” Her tone more annoyed this time, with an edge of anger I’d never heard before.

  Had I passed out in Hudson’s bed? Drank more wine than I’d thought?

  I peeled my heavy lids back, a pain lancing down my neck as light blazed. I clenched them shut before trying again. A thick fog slowly lifted until I locked eyes with a pair of pale green ones.

  “Elliott?” I pushed myself up from where I’d been lying down. On a cold, threadbare carpet. Stains littered it in sporadic bursts, and I pulled Elliott to me before my brain could catch up.

  “Mom,” she said, sighing as she flung her arms around my neck.

  I flinched, a searing, white-hot pain shooting through my skull.

  “Sorry,” she said, pulling back slightly.

  I kept her tucked into my side as I fingered the back of my head. A hard lump had formed there, tender to the touch.

  Too fast, memories flashed in my head.

  Hudson leaving.

  Todd in the parking garage.

  Then the darkness.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked, my hands smoothing down Elliott’s arms as I searched her.

  “No,” she said. “None of them have touched me.”

  “Them?”

  “The two men.” She eyed the closed door.

  “Did they say anything to you?”

  “Not really—”

  “Look who’s up,” Todd’s voice cut over Elliott’s as he kicked open the door. “Thought I heard a little too much chit-chat going on in here.” He tossed an apple back and forth between his hands as he leaned against the doorframe. “You know,” he said, waving the apple at me. “That little bit with your head?” he tsked, shaking his head. “Didn’t have to happen.” He sunk his teeth into the apple, the crunch loud enough to make me flinch. “If you hadn’t come at me like some damn mama jungle cat we’d already be on step two by now.” He chewed, his eyes never leaving mine. “But we lost precious daylight waiting for you to wake up. So the game has been delayed.”

  I narrowed my gaze, scanning the dingy room for any kind of weapon I could use.

  The room looked like the same cheap motels he’d made me stay in when I was pregnant.

  I’d never wanted to set foot in another one again, but I recognized the signs easily enough. Stained, ripped carpet. The stale scent of sweat paired with the too-sweet cloying scent of drugs, topped off with bodily fluids. The skittering of roaches as they scaled the half-rotten baseboards.

  Elliott was never meant to see this lifestyle.

  My rage helped mask the pain in my skull.

  “Game?” I managed to ask.

  “Yeah,” he said, crunching on that damn apple like he hadn’t taken us against our will. Like this wasn’t a crime that would get him sent straight to prison.

  The notion almost made me smile.

  Almost.

  “You two,” he said, waving a finger between us. “Are me and my partner’s meal ticket.” He swallowed, wiping some of the fruit’s juice off his chin. “I thought about how you could repay me,” he said, looking at me. “All those years I took care of you. I knew I’d need some compensation—”

  “You never took care of me,” I cut him off. We’d
been starved and scraping for food or money wherever we could. If I ever managed to hold a job, I had to hide the money so he wouldn’t snort it. “All you cared about was stealing cars. Robbing liquor stores. Or hit—”

  “You,” he interrupted. “Belonged to me. You should’ve behaved as such. Then you ran like a coward. And now? Well, now you’ll make amends. Or at least play a part in it.”

  I tucked Elliott closer, noting how she was staring into Todd’s eyes…piecing together a puzzle I’d never wanted her to.

  “I don’t have money,” I said, completely flabbergasted on how he could be so blasé about what he’d done. “Let us go,” I continued. “Let us go, and I won’t report this. We can chalk it up to desperation and call it a day.” I tried to match his calm.

  He furrowed his brow. “You have money.”

  “I don’t!” I almost laughed hysterically. “I don’t. If you’d seen my place you’d know—”

  My words died in my throat.

  He’d picked us up outside of Hudson’s.

  Oh, God.

  He snapped his fingers, crouching to my level where I sat on that disgusting floor. “There it is,” he said. “She finally catches up.” He took another bite, spraying half-chewed apple on my cheek when he continued speaking. “The girl I knew moved up in the world and caught herself a real player.” He swallowed hard. “A player worth millions.” He trailed a finger down my cheek, wiping away the fruit. I recoiled from his touch. “He’ll pay well to get your sweet ass back,” he said, then shrugged. “Though I can’t remember if you were that sweet or not.”

  I nearly snarled at him.

  “We’ll know in about—”

  “You’re him,” Elliott spoke, stopping him, and I cringed with my entire body.

  He tilted his head at her, smirking.

  His eyes—her eyes—locking on her.

  The exact pale green—she’d gotten none of my gray.

  “You’re…you’re…”

  “The word you’re looking for, kid, is father.”

  A stinging breath shook from my lungs.

  Elliott snorted.

  She actually snorted.

  The smirk melted off of Todd’s face.

  “You may have helped make me,” she said, pure disgust on her face. God, we’d need an emergency therapy session after this. “But you are not my father.”

 

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