by LK Shaw
I stumbled along the sidewalk behind him, nearly tripping trying to keep up. He knocked three times in rapid succession, and the door opened. He yanked me inside and we were enveloped in darkness as we were closed inside. A wiry, tattooed man guarded the door. His gaze swept over me, and I shivered at his lust-filled look.
Against my will, memories of my time in that basement slammed into me. My throat closed at the sensation of the collar locking around it. I couldn’t breathe. No, I screamed inside. Fight it, Charity. I forced myself to think about Oliver’s warm embrace. About his touch. His kiss. Had it only been last night that we’d made love? This morning that I’d awoken in his arms? I nearly cried at the unfairness of it all.
Sorensen had pulled me down a hallway, and we stood at the entranceway of a large room. In the center of it, on the other side of a table, sat El Diablo. His name fit perfectly as there was nothing but pure evil in his eyes. It wouldn’t surprise me to find horns buried in his hair and a forked tail hiding behind his back. His smile was sinister, and I shivered despite my vow to remain strong.
“I told you I’d bring her to you,” Sorensen gloated and postured like a sycophant.
“Yes, you did,” Morales replied in lightly accented English. His dead eyes shifted to lock on me. “You and those other two bitches have cost me a lot of money.”
Like I should feel bad about that. The anger Yvonne had been coaching me to let out decided to make an appearance. “If only we’d bankrupted you, you piece of shit,” I snapped.
I don’t think that was what she’d had in mind. I couldn’t take back the words though. Morales barked out a laugh and rose from his seat. He rounded the table and stopped in front of me. I stared him straight in the eye. Before I could blink, he backhanded me. My head whipped to the side, and he grabbed me by the hair, wrenching my neck back. I screamed in pain.
“You stupid cunt. You think you are funny, do you?” he hissed, spittle hitting me in the face.
Stupid Charity.
A metallic click echoed in the room, and a glint of silver flashed off the single light, illuminating the blade of the knife he shoved in my face. He ran the sharp point down my cheek, and I whimpered in fear.
Warm liquid slid down my face and dripped off my chin. Morales sneered and leaned down to run his tongue from my chin to the corner of my eye, lapping up the blood he’d spilled. I gagged and nearly vomited. His punishing grip loosened on my hair, and he shoved me to the floor. He pivoted and returned to his seat, leaving me trembling on my knees.
Don’t let these fuckers win. Yvonne’s voice rang loud in my head.
With shaky hands, I pushed myself to my feet and stood tall with my shoulders back and head high, despite the blood still trickling down my cheek. I stared with pure hatred at the man in front of me.
“Take her downstairs and chain her up. I’ll be there in a little bit for some entertainment.” His gaze shifted to Sorensen. “You and I have some business to discuss first.”
A third man stepped out of the shadows and tugged my arm, far more gently than I expected. He led me out of the room and down a darkened hallway. My gaze darted around looking for an opening to try and run, but all the doors were either closed or the room was occupied. If the place had a back door I hadn’t seen it, and the tattooed man remained at the front. I didn’t have any options.
The man stopped at a closed door, but the minute he opened it and my eyes locked on the stairs leading to the black abyss below, the panic set in. My feet dug into the floor, and I tried yanking my arm out of the man’s grasp. My breath came in short, sucking gasps.
“Please don’t make me go down there,” I begged, tears pouring from my eyes and washing away the blood. “Please.”
He held me even tighter and yanked me close. “All will be well Señorita Yates,” he whispered against my ear.
I froze at his words, and stared up at him. He wasn’t anyone I remembered from before. Once again, he gently tugged my arm, and this time, I let him. He carefully helped me navigate the stairs. Once we reached the bottom, I glanced around.
It was a different setup than the last. It was one giant room with a single bed instead of several, smaller rooms. The only visible similarity was the thick chain secured into the wall behind the bed with yet another collar attached to the opposite end of the steel lead.
“Come,” the man said, leading me toward my newest prison.
I balked, the terror growing despite his assurance that it would be okay. This had to be a trap. The walls began to close in on me, and my chest ached with the need to pull in more air. He moved into my line of vision, but his features were blurred. He gently clasped my upper arms.
“Señor Garrison will be here soon. You will be safe.”
A tinder of hope flared to life at his words.
“How do you know Oliver?” I whispered, fearing this man was toying with me before he shattered the illusion.
“He is Señora Valesquez’s son.”
I had no idea who Señora Valesquez was, but before I could ask, he had secured the collar around my neck. It took a second for me to notice he hadn’t latched it.
“Soon,” was all he said before turning and disappearing back up the stairs leaving me to wonder if I’d wake up from this nightmare to find none of it was real.
Chapter 37
My heart dropped into my gut at Maria’s words. “Who has Charity? What the fuck is going on?” I barked, wanting answers.
“We do not have time to waste right now. You can ask me on the way. But unless you want Charity to die, we have to leave this second.” She reached inside a hidden compartment in the desk against the wall and pulled out a 9mm. She grabbed a second magazine of ammunition and raced toward the front door, not even waiting for us.
Pablo and I had already risen to our feet and took off after her. She led us down the hall, past the elevator we’d arrived in, and around the corner to what looked like a service elevator. The button was already lit and in less than a minute, a bell chimed signaling its arrival.
“Get in,” she ordered.
The three of us jumped inside before the metal doors closed. Maria placed a plastic keycard against an electronic pad and simultaneously held down two buttons. The elevator shuddered and began to descend.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I barked.
“That was one of my men. Your corrupt cop just took Charity from your home and is delivering her to Morales,” she explained. The doors split open, and Maria rushed out. “Follow me. Be quiet.”
Fear rushed through me. Someone had taken Charity? Who? I also suddenly understood her annoyance with my two word commands. Pablo and I continued following Maria down a dimly lit hallway. The scent and heat of a laundry room grew stronger until we reached a set of double doors.
Pushing open the right side, we entered the building’s laundry facility. It was almost suffocating inside. Several pairs of eyes followed us, but no one asked any questions. We weaved in and out of lines of hanging clothes and machines until we reached an open garage door with a delivery truck partially backed in, its loading doors opened.
“Get in,” Maria ordered.
The three of us jumped inside and settled on the benches on either side of the interior, Pablo and me on one and Maria across from us. Someone slammed the doors shut. The engine started and the van pulled out and headed down the alley. It made a right hand turn onto the main street and continued down the road leaving our entire team behind.
“Now, tell me what the fuck is going on,” I bit out, my fear for Charity raging. “What corrupt cop are you talking about, and how do you know this?”
“One of my men has been guarding you. He remained outside your home after you left to keep an eye on Charity. Unfortunately, he did not recognize the man until it was too late. I am sorry that he was able to take her, but I promise we will get her back,” she vowed.
I tried wrapping my head around everything she just said.
“How long have yo
u been ‘guarding’ me?” I asked suspiciously.
“From the moment I left to return to Mexico.”
I sank back against the hard surface behind me and stared at this woman. At my mother.
“You’ve been watching me—spying on me—my entire life?” It pissed me off that she invaded my privacy that way.
“I had to know you were safe. That Emilio hadn’t found you,” she said. “It was also the only way for me to see my beautiful son grow up. I didn’t want to miss anything. I couldn’t be here in person, and it was the only way I could still be a part of your life. I wanted to know everything about you.”
My heart jolted at her words. All my life I’d thought she’d abandoned me. That she’d forgotten all about me. But if she were telling the truth, then everything I’d always believed about her had been a lie. I couldn’t process this yet. I’d have time later to come to terms with things. In the meantime, Charity was in danger.
“Who’s the corrupt cop?” Pablo, who’d remained quiet this entire time, asked.
“A man by the name of Sorensen,” my mother replied.
“That motherfucking traitor,” I cursed.
“I have a man on the inside and several more will be meeting us at the location. He will do everything he can to protect her until we arrive.”
At my hip, my phone vibrated. Pablo’s began to as well. Shit.
“It’s Landon,” he said, glancing at his screen. Mine read ‘Cap’.
“Answer it,” I told him, tapping the ignore button.
“Rodriguez.”
The silence inside the van was thick and heavy with tension while Pablo listened. I could just picture Roberts on the other end. She’d be fiercely worried and in warrior woman mode. I’d seen her in action, and she was most certainly not someone you wanted as an enemy.
“We ran into a situation. Barrett Sorensen is on Los Lobos’ payroll.”
Silence. Pablo’s expression shifted to concern. “Fuck. Is she okay?”
I sat upright. Who were they talking about?
“Our intel says he is taking her to Morales. Location unknown at this time.” His eyes raised and landed on Maria, who appeared unconcerned. “Yes, she is with us.”
Rodriguez shook his head. “Negative.”
“We are almost there,” she said.
“10-4.” He disconnected the call. “Spencer has a cracked cheek bone and one hell of a shiner. Apparently she was at your house when Sorensen arrived. Knocked her out cold. She’s threatening to murder him if she finds him before we do.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. That sounded just like her.
“Landon said they started tracking our phones once they realized we were missing, and they’re on their way. Also, Cap is pissed and we’ll both be written up and suspended when this is over,” Pablo added.
“Shit, man, sorry to have dragged you into this,” I apologized, but he shook his head.
“You and I both know I’d have done the same thing if someone had taken Michele.”
He was right. I would do whatever it took to make sure Charity was safe. No matter what. Because I loved her. Jesus. When the fuck did that happen?
The van slowed before coming to a halt.
“We are here,” Maria announced, pulling out her weapon.
Pablo and I did the same. Within seconds the back doors were yanked open. The three of us jumped out. I glanced around the rundown neighborhood. A quick scan of the street confirmed we were in the heart of Los Lobos territory. Son of a bitch. A black, nondescript SUV was parked haphazardly along the curb, and four men exited it. Each of them carried an assault weapon.
I turned to my mother. Pablo and I may not have had any choice about being here, but we were still police officers and had taken an oath to uphold the laws of this land. “This is not an execution. It is an extraction. Those men in there will face their day in court and let justice decide their punishment. We are neither judge, nor jury, and the only reason bullets will be exchanged is if our safety is comprised and we have to defend ourselves.”
She studied me, and I maintained eye contact. This was non-negotiable. She nodded. “I will let my men know.”
Pablo and I followed behind and Maria joined her men.
“Do you think she’s telling the truth?” he asked softly.
I observed her. “I wish I knew.”
The leader of her group waved us forward, and with guns drawn, we dashed through several yards, a random dog barking its head off. We slowed and came up on the backside of a two-story house that at one time had probably been gleaming white, but had turned a dingy gray with neglect. Cracked and broken windows were boarded up with plywood from the inside. The grass was shin high and a dull, lifeless brown as though it had given up trying to thrive in this neighborhood.
A heavy quiet surrounded us. We each took our places on either side of the back door, the screen barely hanging by its bottom hinge. The leader tapped on the door in a pattern. Within seconds, it opened, and one by one we entered, with Pablo and I taking up the rear. The men spread out, and the one who’d let us in waved us forward.
“The señorita is in the basement. One guard at the door.”
Fuck. I needed to get to Charity. She had to be going insane down there.
Shouts came from the other end of the house followed by gunfire. A lot of it. Son of a bitch. I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Show me,” I barked as the shooting in various parts of the house continued.
I raced down the hallway after Maria’s man, my gun and gaze sweeping in every direction. Pablo was right behind me. We turned the corner, and the first bullet struck the wall next to my head. I dove for cover in a nearby open doorway. A quick scan of the room showed it was empty.
“This is the police. Put down your weapon,” I hollered out.
More gunfire followed. Taking a deep breath, I peeked my head around the doorway spotting the gunman. More bullets flew, and I whipped my head back to safety. Another single gunshot came followed by a cry of pain. I took a chance and stuck my head around the door. A body laid on the floor and Pablo moved to stand next to him, kicking away the weapon on the ground.
He flipped the man onto his stomach and secured his hands behind his back. I stepped into the hallway, and he glanced over at me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m good. Thanks for having my back.” I walked over to where the two men were and palmed the doorknob, my gun aimed and ready.
I cracked it open, light peeking through, and braced myself for someone else shooting back, but nothing came. The rest of the house had quieted as well. “Charity?” I called out.
“Oliver,” she screamed.
Without another thought, I pushed the door open and tore down the stairs. I spotted her. She threw down the length of chain she held in her hand and sprinted to meet me at the bottom of the steps. We collided, and I held her tightly against me as she sobbed into my chest. I pulled back and palmed her face, my eyes scanning across it, taking in the track of dried blood.
“Fuck, they hurt you.” I rasped out.
She clasped onto my wrists. “I’ll be okay.”
I wrapped my arms around her again, hugging her close, and buried my nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her. We stood there for a minute, holding each other. I could have lost her. Don’t think about it. She was safe in my arms, and that’s where she would remain.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Charity drew in a sharp breath and pulled back to stare up at me, her expression questioning. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t think love existed until I met you. I fucking love you.”
Her smile took up her whole face. “I love you, too.”
“Oliver,” Pablo hollered from the top of the stairs. “You guys all right down there?”
“We’re coming up,” I called back, threading my fingers through Charity’s.
We crested the top of the stairs and found Maria had joined Rodri
guez.
“I called Landon. She and Cap are five minutes out,” he said. “Paramedics are on their way. We’ve got four dead bodies, including Morales, and three injuries. Sorensen is missing. We think he took off once the shooting started.”
“Maria?” Charity’s voice was whisper soft.
“¡Hola, cariño!” my mother smiled affectionately.
“I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
My fingers gently squeezed hers. “Maria is my mother.”
Charity’s eyes jerked up to meet mine. “Your mother?”
A noise at the end of the hall grabbed our attention. My eyes widened.
“No!” Maria yelled.
Time stopped. Gunshots rang out. A body slammed into mine. Instinctively, my arms tightened around it.
“Oh, fuck, no. No, no, no, no.” I stared down into dark brown eyes filled with pain.
I lowered Maria to the ground, my hands putting pressure on the wound in her chest. Blood spilled from beneath my fingertips. “Hang on, Mom. Help is on the way. Just hang on.”
My head jerked up. “Somebody get me a towel. Something.”
I turned my attention back to my mother, the dark red liquid staining my hands. Beside me, Charity was crying.
“My beautiful son.” She tried to smile, but it turned pained. Blood trickled out of her mouth. She coughed, and more poured from her lips.
“Don’t try to talk, Mom,” I begged. “Where’s that towel?”
“I have always”—cough—“loved you. Take care of each other. Love each other.”
She inhaled a shaky breath, and her eyes drifted shut. She didn’t take another.
“Mom,” I yelled, jarring her. “Mom.”
A hand landed on my shoulder. “She’s gone, Oliver. I’m sorry.”
Charity wrapped her arm around my waist, quietly crying. I sat there, numb, unable to look away from my mother’s body. People arrived, but I was oblivious. Exhausted, I collapsed against the wall, my elbows resting on bent knees. Charity continued to sit beside me and laid her head on my shoulder. The M.E. arrived as well as the crime scene team. Still I sat there, watching as they placed my mother on a gurney and wheeled her away.