Indebted

by Sharon C. Cooper

  “I won’t, Ham.” Laz was sure his friend knew him well enough to know there wasn’t much he regretted, except the rift between him and Journey. But he planned to fix that. “I’m cool. I got this.”

  “Just make sure your ass doesn’t end back up behind bars,” Mason added.

  Laz nodded. “You got it, boss.”

  He had no intention of messing up his relationship with his new team, especially considering how they’d stepped up tonight.

  But right now, all Laz could think about was getting Journey back safely while trying to keep at least some of the promises he’d made to her. If he wanted a life with her, he had to start doing everything by the book. At least whenever he could.

  He just hoped tonight he could keep his word.

  *

  “Move and you’re a dead man,” Laz growled, the muzzle of his 9mm pointed at the side of T-Bone’s head.

  It was still the middle of the night, and Laz had snuck into his home undetected. Now, with pressure on the back of the T-Bone’s neck, he pressed his face into the bed pillow.

  “I…can’t…breathe.” He wiggled, his arms and legs flopping around as he struggled under Laz’s hold.

  “You don’t have to breathe. Just listen,” Laz said cryptically. There was just enough moonlight filtering into the room through the side of the blinds for Laz to see the guy’s features.

  “Get…off me,” T-Bone rasped as he tried to move under Laz’s weight.

  “I will, as soon as you answer my questions. You kidnapped the ADA tonight. Where is she?”

  T-Bone froze. If Laz didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he had also stopped breathing. Scaring him to death was Laz’s intention, though he had promised Ashton that he wouldn’t kill the man. Considering what Laz had been through tonight, that had been one of the hardest promises to make. What he really wanted to do was snap the guy’s neck for even touching Journey, let alone drugging her.

  “Where is she?” Laz loosened his hold and the guy lifted his head slightly, gasping for air. When he didn’t speak, Laz cocked the gun, pushing it harder against his head. “Start talking. Now!”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “What the fuck do you mean, you don’t know? Your ass is the one who snatched her up.”

  Laz wasn’t a patient man, and he only had a few more minutes to get answers before Ashton and his new partner arrived.

  The deal was, when Laz was finished with T-Bone, they’d come in, claiming an anonymous tip of domestic violence and gun shots. Laz had no doubt they’d find drugs and assault weapons on the premises.

  “Where. Is. She.”

  “I don’t know!” T-Bone shouted. “Now get off me!”

  “Not until you give me more.” Laz placed his knee in the guy’s back.

  “Ow! Get…ow! Okay, okay. I was told to pick her up and park the car in the lot on State Street. I left her in the back seat. I don’t know what happened after that.”

  “What did you drug her with?” The guy didn’t respond, only making Laz angrier.

  “So help me… What was in the fucking needle?” he seethed. Flashes of the video bombarded Laz’s mind and he shook his head, trying to erase the visual on how this man had drugged her.

  “I don’t know, man! I just did what I was told to do. The needle was in the cup holder.” Laz squeezed T-Bone’s neck, not bothered by the way he was gagging. “It’s…th—the truth.”

  Laz loosened his hold. “Who gave you the order?”

  Again, silence. Laz could smell the man’s fear seeping through his pores. When T-Bone didn’t respond, Laz grabbed hold of the man’s hair and jerked his head back, sticking the gun in his ear.

  “Who gave you the damn order?”

  “I—I can’t… He’ll kill me.”

  “If you don’t, I will kill you. Do you hear me? I. Will. Kill. You.” Laz had promised to leave the guy alive, but…

  “Alonso…Moreno,” T-bone said reluctantly, knowing he was a dead man either way. He wasn’t even safe in jail.

  Alonso Moreno. Monsuli’s second-in-command.

  “Where can I find him?” Laz finally asked.

  “He moves…around. I don’t know.”

  Figuring that was true, Laz eased up. “Okay, so this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to leave, but I suggest you keep this visit quiet. If you don’t…and if you follow me when I walk out of here, Monsuli will know what you’ve been doing with his daughter. His underage daughter.”

  “Wh-what? Sh-she’s eighteen,” T-bone stammered.

  “You sure about that?” Laz taunted, knowing the girl was officially an adult, but wanting this jerk to think otherwise.

  Laz let that information sink in before he shoved the man’s head into the pillow and started to back away. Before he could get to the door, he stopped.

  Visions of the way T-Bone had manhandled Journey continued to dominate Laz’s mind. He couldn’t shake them. All he kept seeing was her trying to fight the man off…and the needle.

  T-Bone must have sensed when Laz moved back to the bed. “I told you everything. Just—”

  Laz hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his pistol and then left the room. He climbed out of the window that he’d entered through and eased into the back yard. Once he was in the alley, he pulled a burner phone from his pocket and dialed.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “Please send someone quick!” he whispered. “She’s screaming and I heard gunshots. Hurry…”

  Laz gave them the address, but when they asked for his name, he said John Doe and then faded into the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Journey jerked awake and tensed when a piercing pain shot from the top of her head to the base of her neck. Blinking several times, she tried pushing away the sleep still clogging her mind, but struggled to keep her eyes open.

  The room was dark with just a hint of light coming from somewhere, but not enough for her to see anything. Fear had been her companion earlier but screaming for help hadn’t accomplished anything but hoarseness and a sore throat.

  I’m so tired…and hungry. At least they’d given her bottled water, but she felt so weak.

  “Help! Please. Help me!” she yelled, but barely heard her own voice as defeat tried to consume her. I’m not giving up. I can’t give up, she thought to herself.

  She wiggled and rocked as much as she could in the hard wood chair, hoping to loosen the constraints on her wrists. Not only were her hands bound behind her back, but her ankles were tied with rope around the leg of the chair. Every muscle in her body ached, but whenever she was dozing off, she tried to keep moving, tried to stay hopeful that Laz would find her.

  I love you. I love you so damn much.

  His words floated through her mind on a continuous loop. She knew she had fallen in love, but she never thought she’d hear those words from him. Now he might be risking his freedom and his life…for her.

  The people who kidnapped her promised not to hurt her as long as Laz saw to Monsuli’s death. There was no way he could do what they asked of him without ramifications. She could admit to wanting the whole Monsuli case to go away, but not like this.

  Not at the risk of losing Laz.

  Tears filled her eyes and regret assailed her as she thought about the baby. She should’ve told him about the baby the moment she found out, but instead she let fear and selfishness keep her from talking to him. And for what? It all seemed so silly now.

  At least she’d gotten a chance to tell him that she loved him.

  A sudden chill filled the air, and Journey shivered, coldness seeping deeper into her bones. She had worn pants to work which offered some coverage on her legs, but the thin blouse was doing nothing to ward off the cold.

  I have to get out of here. She had no idea where she was or who the kidnappers were since they kept their faces covered even when they let her talk to Laz.

  He’s going to find me. Journey knew that he was pro
bably searching every inch of the city for her, but she couldn’t just sit around and wait. She had to figure out a way to…

  Journey startled when the lights popped on. Squinting, her eyes were slow to adjust to the poor lighting, but she took in the room. Small with gray concrete floors and walls, and no windows. She’d been in a haze when they put her in the room, but she would have remembered the flat screen television sitting on a roll-away stand several feet in front of her now.

  Journey gasped when the television suddenly came on and Monsuli’s face filled the screen. Her heart beat faster as the words “breaking news” scrolled beneath the photo before the reporter appeared on the screen.

  In breaking news, overnight…

  Overnight, Journey thought. Exactly how long had she been there?

  As we mentioned earlier, notable drug lord Enrique Monsuli was found dead in his cell early this morning. The guards on duty discovered him hanging from his bedsheets. Early reports are saying that he committed suicide. So far there has been no evidence of foul play. We’ll keep you informed of any new developments throughout the day.

  Journey’s mouth dropped open.

  Oh. My. God.

  How was that possible? Shock and fear battled within her. No way a man who was appealing his murder case would commit suicide. But the alternative…

  “I guess it’s true what I’ve heard about Detective Dimas.”

  Journey jumped at the sound of her captor’s voice, awe in his tone. He spoke with an accent, but she couldn’t tell its origin. She also couldn’t see him since he was standing somewhere behind her.

  “Oops, I should’ve said Lazarus Dimas. I forget. He’s no longer a cop, which still surprises me, but somehow I bet you had something to do with that decision, too.”

  Anger bubbled inside Journey as she ignored this guy’s last comment. All she could think about was Monsuli and Laz’s possible involvement in his death. No way would Laz risk going to jail for murder, even for her.

  Yes he would, a small voice inside her head whispered. “I’m also very protective.” His words from when they talked about dating slammed into her memory. She prayed he had nothing to do with this, but deep down she knew.

  “Just let me go. You got what you wanted.”

  “Rumor has it,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken, “when motivated, Dimas is vigilant when it comes to righting a wrong and protecting those he loves.”

  “Then you should know by kidnapping me, you’ve put a target on your head.” The words were out of her mouth without thinking. This guy had promised not to hurt her and she wanted to keep it that way. But Journey hated knowing that he might have forced Laz to do something he wouldn’t have done otherwise. “You got what you want. Now let me go,” she demanded with more bravado than she felt.

  The man chuckled, but even twisting back and forth in her chair, she couldn’t see him. “Attorney Ramsey, I would think you’d be happy to have one less case to handle. Prison was too good for Monsuli. As for Dimas coming after me, he’d have to find me first.”

  She almost told him that Laz would definitely find him, but she kept her mouth closed. She wanted all of this to be over with once and for all. “Just let me go.”

  “I’ll let your boyfriend know where you are. It’ll be up to him to come and get you, but I’ll be long gone by then.”

  “Please…please if you’re not going to let me go yet, can you at least untie me? The ropes are too tight. They’re cutting off my circulation. I promise, I won’t try to get away,” Journey lied. If she got a hint of an opportunity to get out that place, she was taking it. She hated feeling so helpless, waiting around for someone to rescue her. For as long as she could remember, she always took care of herself and rarely had to depend on others.

  “Nice try, but I can’t do that.”

  Before Journey could form her next thought, the television went out and the room went black.

  “No…no! Don’t leave me! Let me go!” she screamed, rocking back and forth in the chair. With what little strength she had, Journey jerked against the ropes, not caring about the pain shooting through her arms and legs as she tried to break free.

  I have to get out of here.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she continued wrestling with the restraints, her efforts proving fruitless.

  “Sit still before you hurt yourself,” the same voice said, startling her. She thought he had left the room. “I assured Dimas that you’d be unharmed, and I try to always keep my word. Though I hate to leave you here alone, our time together has come to an end. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable before I leave.”

  Journey jerked when she felt a pinprick in her neck and she cried outright. She had asked earlier what he had drugged her with, but he only laughed.

  God…please let my baby be okay.

  A short while later, her body grew heavy like before. Despite the efforts to keep her eyes open, she succumbed to the sleep that pulled her under.

  *

  “I guess asking if you’re okay would be a dumb question,” Hamilton said.

  Laz stared out the passenger side window of Hamilton’s truck, still feeling as if someone had a tight grip around his neck. From the moment he received the call, he had been on adrenaline overload and couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten or slept.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay. All I keep thinking about is those assholes having Journey in some damn warehouse. Do you know how much shit I’ve done in warehouses?”

  “No, but I can imagine.”

  The warehouse images of his past rushed back to him like a bullet to the chest. How many times had he taking a perp to one in order to scare some sense into them? Or the number of times he’d been under cover and met in a warehouse. Or most recently, the time he knocked Scott around a little for the hurting he had put on elderly people. If any of those scenarios played out with those who took Journey, Laz didn’t know what he would do.

  “If they hurt her I—”

  “Don’t go there, man. She’s fine.”

  Hamilton exited off the highway in Alpharetta and Laz’s anxiety increased as they followed the navigation system’s directions. He pulled on the collar of the long-sleeved T-shirt he was wearing, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. It was barely daybreak and despite the fifty-five-degree morning, he lowered the window.

  “Just sit tight. We should be there in a few minutes. He assured you she was fine.”

  He being Alonso Moreno.

  Moreno didn’t know that Laz knew his identity, but he’d soon find out. He might not have been the one to shove Journey into the car, but based on additional information beside T-Bone’s admission, Moreno had orchestrated the snatch.

  The guy had definitely done his homework, but little did he know, so had Laz. It was only a matter of time before Moreno suffered the same fate as Monsuli.

  Laz thought about the call he’d gotten from his contact at the prison a couple of hours ago. It worked to Laz’s benefit that Monsuli had more enemies than friends. All Laz had to do was make the right connections to get the job done without actually taking out Monsuli himself. At the time, he hadn’t asked or wanted to know how the task would be done. He had just hoped it could be done.

  Suicide.

  Laz hadn’t seen that one coming. There was a little guilt nipping at his nerves, but mostly what he was feeling was anxiety and a desperation to find Journey and make sure she was okay.

  He sat up straighter when they pulled into an empty parking lot of an abandoned warehouse.

  “Go around to the back and park by the door on the end.” Forty-five minutes ago, he had been given instructions on exactly where to find her.

  Laz just hoped…

  The moment Hamilton slowed, Laz was out of the truck before the vehicle came to a complete stop. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he pulled open the heavy metal door that led into the semi-dark musty building. Anger and fear warred within him, unsure of what he’d find.

  She
has to be okay.

  It was colder in there than it was outside, and the musty odor made him almost positive there was mold and mildew in the place. He had only been there a few minutes and already he struggled to breathe. His concern for Journey surged. There were a few windows, most riddled with holes the size of large rocks, but none provided much ventilation.

  “Those bastards left her in this shit hole,” Laz muttered, then coughed as dust from the dirt floor kicked up with each step he took. He moved around old steel plates, debris and a host of other shit he couldn’t identify at the moment. “Journey!”

  “Calm down, Laz,” Hamilton said when he caught up to him. “If you’re freaked out when you find her, she’s going to freak out.”

  “I can’t calm down,” Laz growled, checking each small room they passed, making sure they were empty. He swallowed hard, trying to manage the impatience that was making him want to tear the place apart. When he neared the second-to-the-last door—the room they said she’d be in—Laz struggled to calm his pounding heart.

  He stopped in the doorway and his temper flared. “They fucking tied her up!”

  Journey was on the other side of the room lying on a filthy sofa, her back to the door. His rage mounted. The room, semi-dark, damp, and nasty, only made him angrier.

  She’s not moving.

  Panic rioted within him, and then dread lodged in his gut when he saw the needle on the floor next to her.

  “No,” he choked out, feeling as if someone had reached into his chest and grabbed hold of his heart and squeezed. “God, no.”

  Not again.

  He hadn’t realized he had stopped in the middle of the floor until Hamilton moved past him, hurrying to her side. “She’s alive,” he said after turning her over, his fingers against her neck. “Her pulse is strong, but she’s freezing.” Hamilton started shaking out of his lightweight jacket.

  Laz shoved him out of the way and made quick work of untying her hands and feet. “Journey. Journey,” he choked out, barely able to hold himself together. He made note of the vicious-looking rope burns and the areas of broken skin on her wrists and ankles. He wasn’t a praying man, but he sent up a silent prayer hoping she was okay. She had to be okay.