Running Scared

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Running Scared Page 18

by Velvet Vaughn


  “Is this Eric Bishop’s room?” Declan asked.

  “It is,” the man confirmed in a deep rumble. “No visitors.”

  “Are you with the Chicago Police Department?”

  “That’s need to know, and you don’t need to know,” he retorted.

  “Let me see your badge,” Kayla challenged.

  “I’m off duty. I was hired to stand guard and not let anyone inside.”

  “Who hired you?” she asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” the man responded. Then his eyes narrowed. “Are you Elliot?”

  He almost repeated the giant’s need to know line, but he was anxious to see his brother and no mood for games. “Yes.”

  “Can I see some ID?”

  “Only if you tell me who hired you.”

  “Your bosses.”

  Declan glanced at Kayla with raised brows.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know either, but I’m not surprised. I’m guessing Alex Mylonas arranged this?”

  The man reluctantly nodded. “Mylo and I go way back.”

  She turned to Declan. “Alex used to be a detective with the CPD.”

  “I met him. Good guy.”

  Kayla held out a hand. “Kayla Hepburn.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Terrance Owens. Can I see some ID?”

  They both handed over their credentials, which he studied critically—front and back—before nodding and returning them.

  “Are you the same Terrance Owens who played in the NBA?” Kayla questioned.

  “One in the same.”

  “How’s the knee?” Declan asked of the injury that ended his playing days.

  “Rehabilitated.”

  There was more to the story, but Declan didn’t have time to listen and Terrance didn’t seem inclined to talk. “How long will you be here?”

  “Through the night. Another off-duty cop, Ramiro Vargas, will relieve me and then I’ll be back tomorrow evening. We’ll be here until Bishop is released.”

  Declan shook his hand. “Thank you. I’ll sleep better knowing Eric’s safe.”

  Terrance slapped a catcher’s mitt-sized hand against the door and held it open for them. The room was dim with the curtains pulled and the television off. The only light came from the various machines beside the bed wheezing and beeping. Eric was attached to several monitors, his damaged body bandaged and bruised. One side of his face was swollen, and his left arm rested on a pillow on his stomach. Declan flashed back to the night he arrived at the foster home, so small and skinny. The man had beat him within an inch of his life for no reason at all except that he breathed.

  Moisture gathered in his eyes as he stepped to the bed and lifted Eric’s unbandaged hand. His scarred thumb unconsciously stroked the matching wound on Eric where they’d vowed to be brothers for life. From that first day, he’d sworn to protect him, and he’d failed. It was his fault he was lying in the hospital bed, battered and broken.

  Eric’s lids fluttered and he opened his eyes.

  “Hey, brother.” Declan wiped away a tear before it fell. “I’m so damn glad you’re awake.”

  Eric managed a half smile. “Me, too.” His voice was a low wheeze. “Kinda iffy there for a while.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Like I flashed back twenty some years,” Eric remarked, referencing the night Declan had been thinking about when he walked in the room. “Except this time, there were two of them.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, guilt eating a hole in his stomach.

  Eric’s eyes opened again. “Not your fault,” he insisted. “Asshats who did this to me are to blame.”

  He could say that, but it wouldn’t absolve Declan’s guilt.

  “You look like a wreck, Dec. Am I dying?”

  “Hell no!” He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d cut out his own heart and give it to Eric if he needed it.

  “How bad am I?”

  He wanted to lie and assure him that he’d be just fine, but he couldn’t. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to the doctor yet.”

  “Actually, you’re going to be just fine.”

  Both heads swiveled to Kayla, who’d stayed back while Declan talked with Eric. She held up a silver chart. “Cracked ribs, concussion, fractured ulna, several contusions, bruised kidneys, but nothing too serious.”

  That many injuries sounded serious to Declan, but he didn’t want to panic in front of his brother. He’d wait until he was alone. “Eric, this is a coworker. Kayla Hepburn.”

  Kayla flashed her mega-watt smile and goodness, she was staggering. “Nice to meet you, Eric, though the circumstances suck.”

  “Damn, bro, I want to work where you do,” Eric mumbled, his lids drifting closed though he valiantly tried to fight it.

  “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Eric’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed his hand. “No. You need to find out what these men want so Jamal will be safe. I’ve got protection, thanks to your bosses. Finish it.”

  Declan wanted to stay with his brother until he was well, but Eric was right. Jamal wouldn’t be safe until the threat was over. “I’ll check in with you every day. Call if you need anything and I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

  Eric was asleep before they left. Declan stopped to exchange phone numbers with Terrance. “Please call me if there are any problems or complications.”

  “Will do.”

  As he and Kayla navigated the corridors, he felt marginally better having actually spoken with Eric. He had a long road ahead of him to recover, but he was alive. That was all that mattered.

  Turning to Kayla, he said, “I have no idea where the safe house is located and I’m not sure I can find the SUV we drove here. I was zoned out when we parked.”

  “Got it covered,” she assured him.

  They skirted around a man wearing a blue uniform and headphones as he mopped the floor. He turned abruptly and bumped into Kayla before his foot slipped on the slick surface and he went down. He reached out for something to steady himself and grabbed Kayla’s foot, sending her stumbling into Declan. He caught her before she went down and helped her stand.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, ma’am.” The man awkwardly lurched to his feet and tugged cords from his ears, his face reddening in embarrassment. “I wasn’t paying attention. Did I hurt you?”

  “No problem. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Sorry again.” With a sheepish look, he turned away and resumed his task.

  “Are you okay?” Declan asked once they were on the elevator heading down to the garage level.

  “The hit wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t tried to dislocate my leg from my acetabulum.” She rubbed her hip socket.

  “Do you need to have it looked at before we leave?”

  She made a dismissive sound and waved a hand. “Nah. It’s fine.”

  The doors swished open and she led him to the SUV. He’d have never found it on his own. Tugging the keys from his pocket, he punched a button on the fob and unlocked the doors.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, do COBRA Securities agents drive anything in a color other than black?”

  She chuckled. “I think BeBe gets a volume discount if they all look alike.”

  He climbed behind the wheel and secured the belt across his chest. Pushing the start button, he waited for the engine to fire before shifting into drive. Kayla consulted her phone and punched numbers into the GPS. A voice instructed them on the route to take. As they drove along the streets, he recognized the area. It was an upscale suburb surrounded by trees, featuring large houses with security gates. He was realizing his new company spared no expense.

  Speaking of, he hadn’t talked about numbers with his bosses, but he intended to pay the fees. Noah, Ethan and Kayla were unexpected help and he was grateful he wasn’t going this alone anymore. Having security outside Eric’s door was a huge weight off his shoulders
, too, and would allow him to sleep. It wouldn’t be cheap, but maybe they’d float him an employee discount. As it was, he’d probably be working free for the next fifteen or so years.

  The cultured voice on the GPS instructed him to turn right into the next driveway. He almost missed it because it was hidden. Stopping at the gate, he rolled down the window and entered the number Kayla read to him. The gates slid open and they motored along the blacktopped drive to the house. This one was modern with glass and concrete, nothing like the mountain home where they’d spent the night in Michigan. He parked next to Noah’s Escalade and cut the engine.

  Ethan was waiting for them by the door. “How’s Eric?”

  “Banged up, in pain, but alive and awake.”

  “Thank God,” Noah said, coming up behind his brother. “I’ll make a call and get security set up outside his hospital room.”

  “Someone is a step ahead of you.” Kayla slid past them to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “The bosses beat us to it.” She held one up to Declan and he nodded, catching it when she tossed it to him.

  “I’m not the least bit surprised,” Ethan claimed. “They think of everything.”

  “Get this.” Kayla recapped her bottle. “The man standing sentry is Terrance Owens.”

  “The NBA player?” Ethan asked.

  “Former,” she corrected. “He’s a cop now.”

  The two of them started discussing his pro career and subsequent injury as they headed out of the kitchen.

  “Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “Since this case is personal, and heck, I’m not even officially an agent yet, I plan on picking up the tab for having you three here and the added security for Eric.”

  Noah held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. First, I’d be here no matter what. Ethan, too. Besides being coworkers, you’re our friend and we’ll always support you. Second, Jamal is important to us and to Peyton. Finally, the bosses won’t let you. You’re one of us now. They take care of their own.”

  “But this is above and beyond.”

  “When I hooked up with Peyton, it was because her brother called me to check on her. I drove to Chicago on my own. When it was clear she was in danger, the bosses authorized full support, even though it wasn’t an official case. Same with Ethan and his girlfriend, Esme. You can offer, but they won’t let you pay.” He chuckled. “Actually, it’s how most of the agents met their significant others, Luke and Logan included.”

  “Well, I’m extremely grateful you guys are here.” He would still offer to reimburse the expenses, even if they declined. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary.”

  He followed Noah into the great room. The décor was contemporary and industrial, with clean lines and minimal furnishings. It might be artistic or whatever, but it seemed cold to him.

  “Declan!”

  Jamal jumped up from the couch and ran to him, throwing his arms around his legs and clutching for all he was worth.

  Declan rubbed his back. “Hey bud, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  “He refused to go until you arrived,” Ethan informed him.

  He crouched down until they were face to face. Jamal smiled but he was trembling. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded shakily. “I’m okay. I was just worried about you.”

  Jamal’s arms wrapped around Declan’s neck so tightly, he risked cutting off his air. He needed to check on Kenzie and go over game plans with his coworkers, but he needed to assure the young boy first. “Do you want to watch television before bed?”

  Jamal nodded happily. “We’re watching Secret Lives of Pets 2.”

  That was another thing he’d need to consider when he adopted Jamal. He was obsessed with animals. Declan never owned a pet. Some of the foster homes had dogs or cats, but he learned early never to get too attached. It was hard to leave them when he was shipped off to a new family. Life in the service was not conducive to pet ownership. Declan would make sure Jamal had one now.

  “How’s Kenzie,” he asked Noah when he was settled on the couch with Jamal close to his side.

  “Asleep. Ethan checked on her before you arrived and she’s still out.”

  It pained him that she’d been forced to endure the debilitating consequences of the flashbang but getting her out alive was the priority and they’d succeeded. The effects would fade, and she’d be back to normal soon.

  A soft weight thudded against his shoulder. Jamal was out like a light. “I’ll put him to bed and then we can talk.”

  “There’s a room ready for him upstairs, second door on the left. Yours is across the hall next to Kenzie.” Noah informed him.

  “Thanks.”

  As he climbed the steps, he wondered if anyone would notice if he slipped into Kenzie’s bed. He wanted to hold her, assure himself she was okay. He also wondered if Jamal knew he’d be sleeping in his own room instead of sharing one as they had the last few days. Declan knew he was scared to death and it helped him rest easy.

  He found the room Noah indicated and placed Jamal on the bed. The covers had already been turned down. Jamal still wore his sneakers, probably because Declan insisted they keep them on in case they needed to make a quick getaway, but he was safe here. Untying the laces, he slid them from his feet and placed them at the foot of the bed.

  As he tucked the covers around Jamal, he noticed a teddy bear on a shelf, and it reminded him of Yogi. He’d have one of his coworkers drive him over to retrieve Jamal’s prized possession soon. Reaching for the stuffed animal, he tucked it against Jamal’s arm. He instinctively clutched it tightly in sleep.

  Spotting a nightlight in an outlet low on the wall, he switched it on. He didn’t want Jamal to wake up confused with his surroundings. With one last look, he eased the door closed and made his way across the hall to check on Kenzie. She was sound asleep, still fully dressed. Noah or Ethan had removed her shoes. Declan considered taking off her pants so she’d be more comfortable, but he didn’t want to chance waking her. She was curled on her side, taking up miniscule space in the big bed. There was plenty of room for him to crawl in behind her and draw her against his chest.

  Brushing a tendril of hair from her cheek, he let his fingers linger on her soft skin. A chill ran through him. He’d come close to losing her tonight. If Ethan hadn’t thought to tag her, they might not have found her in time. The thought made nausea churn in his gut, so he pushed it from his head. They did reach her in time. He’d focus on the positive.

  Reluctantly he stood and forced his feet to move away from her until he was back down with the others. The cartoon movie had been replaced with a basketball game.

  Kayla tucked her feet beneath her. “We really need to figure out what this gang wants with Jamal.”

  Ethan shot up from where he’d been reclining in a chair. “I just realized something. The guys I tied up didn’t have the Eighty-Sixer’s tattoo on their face.”

  “That’s strange. I don’t think mine did, either.” Noah grabbed his phone and scrolled to the pictures they’d snapped of the kidnappers. “Nope.”

  Kayla held up her cell. “This one is tatted up like Travis Barker, but no eight or six on his face.”

  “What could that mean?” Declan handed Noah back his phone after viewing the photos.

  “That’s the first thing they do to a new recruit.” Noah shook his head. “Jamarcus tried to ink Jamal. He wanted him to deal at his school and the mark would let the buyers know whom to approach for the product.”

  Kayla made a face. “His own brother. That’s disgusting.”

  Declan glanced from Noah to Ethan to Kayla. “Do you think they farmed out the task of grabbing Jamal to another gang?”

  Ethan shook his head. “Not likely. Most gangs are notoriously territorial. They might partner with groups in other cities, but I can’t see them aligning with another one in Chicago.”

  “I agree,” Noah concurred. “The Detroit Original Gangst
ers didn’t pose a threat to their home base.”

  “Then we’re dealing with not one threat, but two,” Kayla surmised.

  Declan gritted his teeth. “And Jamal won’t be safe until we stop both.”

  #

  When it was time for bed, Declan followed Noah and Ethan up the steps. Their rooms were on the other side of the stairwell. With a wave, he turned in the opposite direction to look in on Jamal. He was sound asleep with the substitute Yogi tucked closely against his side. He closed the door and checked the hallway.

  The coast was clear.

  Creeping silently on tiptoes, he aimed for Kenzie’s room and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. She’d turned over since the last time he checked on her, but she still slept soundly. Toeing off his shoes, he removed his socks and jeans but left on his shirt and boxer briefs. He wouldn’t stay long but he needed to feel her in his arms for a little while before he headed to his own room.

  Gently lifting the covers, he slid in behind her, trying to move the mattress as little as possible. He hadn’t even settled yet when she rolled and snuggled against him, a contented sigh slipping past her lips. Wrapping his arm around her, he valiantly tried to ignore the putrid odor in her hair. Lingering effects of the flashbangs had settled into the soft strands, almost choking him. As it was, his eyes watered, and his throat itched. If it affected him this badly, it had to be worse for her. Breathing toxic fumes couldn’t be good for her lungs.

  Tossing the covers back, he stood and scooped her in his arms. Her head settled against his shoulder, but she didn’t wake. It took maneuvering worthy of a circus contortionist to turn on the taps in the walk-in shower and adjust the temperature with her in his arms. Once the water was just right, he settled her on a bench and began undressing her.

  “Declan?”

  “I’m here, babe. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. Hazy.”

  “That’s the effects of the flashbang.”

 

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