by M Never
“Now go.” I land a hard blow on her behind. “When you get back, I’m chaining you to the bed and eating you for dinner.”
“Oh God,” she says, flustered with desire. “I’m going.”
“Just give the doorman your name when you get back,” I tell Ellie as she steps on the elevator. “You’ll be on the list.”
She grins and does a little sexy wave to acknowledge me just as the doors close. Then she’s gone.
And I’m completely miserable.
I head back into the Toy Box and plop down into a seat. Both Jett and Juice stare at me.
“What?” I ask defensively.
“Whatcha doing?” Jett asks.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Sitting down.”
“Where’s Ellie?”
“She went out.”
“To do what?” His eyebrows crease.
“Break up with her boy toy.”
“And you let her?” His tone elevates.
“Yeah. What do you think the jimmy was for?”
“You bugged your fiancée?”
“Well, I had to keep an eye, or ear, in this case, on her somehow. I know I couldn’t force her to stay.” Unfortunately.
“Don’t you think that’s a little . . . stalkerish?” Juice asks.
I glare at both of them. “There is an unidentified threat out there, and although it doesn’t seem to involve Ellie, I decided to play it safe anyway.”
“Translation,” Jett arbitrates, “I am insecure about my fiancée hanging out with another man, so I took it upon myself to eavesdrop.”
“Fuck you,” I spit. “If the two of you have such a problem with my moral turpitude, you can leave.”
Jett and Juice glance at each other decisively.
“I’ll get the popcorn.” Juice jumps up.
That’s what I thought.
Once gone, Jett swivels his chair so he’s looking directly at me. “You’ve come far, Grasshopper.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. Condescending cocksucker. “You do know I’m going to throw knives at your head while you’re sleeping tonight, right?”
“Good.” He runs his hand through his blond hair. “Take a little off the top. I’m due for a trim.”
“Ass—” Loud popping noises like gunshots suddenly echo from inside the apartment.
“Juice!?” We both yell as we jump up and grab the closest firearm in reaching distance. We hear more pops and then the smell of popcorn fills the air.
We glance at each other hesitantly, waiting a few moments before Juice reappears with a big bowl in one hand a bottle of soda in the other.
“Should I put my hands up?” he asks as he stares down the barrel of two semi-automatic handguns.
Jett and I both exhale.
“When you said popcorn, I thought you meant you were going to rip open a bag.”
“No way.” He sits back down in his captain’s chair. “This is first-class entertainment. It warrants the real stuff.” He pops a kernel into his mouth.
“Just turn the fucking thing on.” I uncock the gun, and then grab a handful of popcorn for myself.
A few seconds later, the sound of cars passing and Ellie humming plays through the room.
“Good acoustics,” Juice mouths.
I roll my eyes; idiot loves his gadgets.
She has to be close to the coffee house by now, if not there already.
There’s a low ringing noise, and then a muffled voice I recognize.
“You’ve reached Mark at Expo Shipping and Receiving. I’m sorry I missed your call but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Beep!
“Mark, you going to be really sorry you missed this call! I’ll only forgive you if you’re doing something really important, like Pretty Pete. Call me! I have to ask you something. Bye.”
Ask him something?
“Pretty Pete?” Juice asks with wide brown eyes.
I shrug. “He’s gay. It’s her old boss.”
“Ah.” He acknowledges, then goes back to munching on his popcorn.
A few moments after she hangs up, tires screech, there’s a sharp intake of breath, and then what sounds like a scuffle. I fly out of my seat when I hear Ellie scream ‘no!’ and a car door slam.
“Ellie!”
The sound of tires peeling out tears through the room, and then there’s just silence.
I barely remember making it down to the street—there’s just a faint recollection of Jett ordering me into the elevator because the stairs would take too long. We retrace Ellie’s steps with my mind in a panic. Someone took her. Someone took her again. I can’t think, I can’t see, as pedestrians and tourists knock me around. I feel like I’m caught in a wind tunnel.
“Kayne!” Jett calls a few yards away from me. He’s crouching by the curb on the corner. I walk over to him dazed. He stands up, holding Ellie’s necklace. “They grabbed her here.”
Those words slice through me like I’ve just been cut with a burning blade.
“And look.” He points to several spots. “Traffic cameras and ATM machines. Maybe they caught something.”
“They better fucking have.”
I’m shaking with rage by the time we get back to the Toy Box. Juice’s fingers are already flying as he hacks into every camera in the area.
“Anything?” I growl.
“Not yet. Give me a second.”
“Juice, fucking find something,” I snap.
“You yelling at me isn’t going to make the process go faster, so back the fuck off.” He concentrates on the screen.
“Kayne.” Jett pulls me back and I begin pacing like a lunatic. Who am I kidding, I am a lunatic. SOMEONE TOOK ELLIE! This is all my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have let her leave. I should have listened to my fucking gut. It’s the one thing that’s kept me alive the past twenty-eight years. I just gambled with, and lost, the most important thing in my life and these two want me stay fucking calm.
“Okay.” There are lots of different things popping up on Juice’s screen. “Look there,” he points to a few mismatched images lined up in a row. “Here she’s walking.” He points to her back. “Then here.” A car pulls up right in front of her just as she reaches the corner. It only takes a second, the picture is blurry, but there’s definitely two of them—one driving an old model sedan and the one who grabbed her. It literally took a split second to get her in the car and drive away.
My brain feels like it’s expanding in my skull from stress.
“Can we get a better picture of the car? Maybe a shot of the license plate?” Jett asks.
“Yup, found that.” Juice bangs on the keys. “It’s only a partial, but you can see the make, too. That’s huge.”
The letters FHK and MALIBU display across the big screen on the wall.
“I’m cross-referencing both identifiers in the DMV database and searching to see if there are any police reports about a stolen Malibu.”
The whole process feels like it takes forever. I know every second that ticks by is one more second our chance of finding Ellie diminishes.
“Okay,” Juice finally announces. “There are three potential hits on the car with that make and license plate letters. No reports of stolen vehicles.”
“Three?”
“Yeah, two in Honolulu and one in Ma’ili. I would try that one first.” He scribbles on a piece of paper and hands it to Jett.
“Why do you say that?” he asks.
“Ms. Kalani has a brother who was released from prison three months ago. Drug trafficking.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Her address is listed as his last known.”
I look at Jett. “Let’s go.”
THE ADDRESS JUICE GAVE US is a small farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. I think you can literally only fit a couch and a television in the rundown structure.
There are chickens and goats roaming the property, and the grounds are completely overgrown. If I was a douchebag drug smuggler, this is exactly
where I would live.
I yank on the black leather gloves covering my hands, the ones with the brass knuckles sewn right into them.
“Ready?” Jett asks as he opens the car door.
“To break someone’s face? Hell yeah.”
“Hey,” he puts a hand on my chest. “Don’t kill him before he talks.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“We’re going to get her back.” I know what Jett is trying to do. He’s trying to appease me so I can focus, but I’ve never been more focused in my life.
“In what condition?” I mutter rhetorically. I’ve run through every horrific scenario possible. Beaten, raped, drugged, sold, killed. There isn’t one thing I’ve left out.
“You knock on the front door. I’ll go around back. Maybe we can snuff him out.”
“I know the drill.”
“Glad to hear. Now get the fuck out of the car.”
I walk up the front path overgrown with weeds as Jett makes his way to the side of the house. He clucks to get my attention right before I knock on the door.
“Car,” he mouths. It must be hidden in the back.
I nod, then bang on the door. “Anyone home?” I yell. “I seem to be lost. And my GPS isn’t working out here.” I try to sound like a tourist. “Hello?” I bang again.
A second later the door jerks open to a very large Hawaiian woman in a Muu Muu dress and flower in her hair. She takes one look at me in my skintight black shirt, cargo pants, and gun holster and knows I’m no tourist. She tries to slam the door in my face, but I stop her with my hand.
“Where’s Pilipo?”
“Never heard of him.”
“Bullshit.”
“Kayne!” I hear Jett yell. “Coming around!”
I turn my head just in time to see someone disappearing into the woods. Perfect, a chase. It’s exactly what I need. My heart starts to punch through my chest as I book it across the front lawn and into the thick greenery. I can see his shaved head and tattooed arms fighting against the dense branches as I track him like an animal. I’m going to tear you apart is all I can think as adrenaline courses through my veins.
Just as I come up behind Pilipo, Jett barrels into him from the left side. They both hit the ground hard, rolling down a small hill. The medium-sized man ends up on top giving him the upper hand. He lands a hard blow across Jett’s face, causing him to spit blood.
A second later, I yank the piece of shit up and return the favor, smashing his nose.
“Where is she?” I bark.
“Who?” he screams back wiping blood from his face.
“The girl you took this morning.” I knee him in the stomach.
He keels over. “I don’t know nothing about any girl.” He looks up at me, and I immediately know he’s lying.
“Wanna try that answer again?” I kick him in the face, and he hits the ground hard.
“I don’t know shit.” He splutters, his mouth foaming with saliva and blood.
I glance at Jett. He’s standing on the opposite side of Pilipo. “I think he needs some incentive to talk.”
He looks up at me with blood stained teeth. “I couldn’t agree more.” Jett hauls Pilipo up and locks him in a full nelson. Arms subdued over his head.
Pilipo is sucking in air, and although he isn’t acting scared, I’m about to make him shit.
“I’m going to make this easy. I ask, you answer. Nod if you understand.”
He spits on me. I wipe my shirt. This job is so glamorous sometimes. “Okay, then. I’ll take that as a yes.” I pull a picture out of the side pocket on my leg. “Recognize her?”
Pilipo turns white as a ghost.
“That’s your daughter, yeah?”
He doesn’t say a word.
“She’s cute. Just turned four?” I taunt him.
He glares at me.
“Want someone to take her away?” I ask waving the picture of the little dark-haired girl blowing out her birthday candles.
His breathing becomes more erratic and his stare hostile.
“Tell me where you took her,” I lean in closer, “or I’m going to take her. We know a lot of the same people, brother, and what they’re capable of.”
He doesn’t utter a word, just snarls at me. I wait him out, but he doesn’t budge.
“Fine. Let him go,” I instruct Jett. “You just signed your daughter’s death sentence.” Jett drops him to the ground. “And I’ll make sure you never find her body.”
“Wait!” Pilipo punches the dirt. “Fuck. Swear you won’t touch her!”
“Give me the information I want and I’ll think about it,” I sneer.
He glowers at me on all fours. “An estate. In Kailua.”
“Who hired you to take her?” I grab his face.
“I don’t know his name! All I know is he calls himself Protégé and is trying to take over the cartel I used to run for.”
“Who’s cartel?” I demand.
“El Rey’s.”
I look at Jett.
Shit.
WE LEFT PILIPO LYING IN a pool of his own blood.
I’m just ripping off my bloody glove when my phone rings. It’s Juice.
I put it on speaker as Jett drives down a muddy road back to the highway.
“What’s up?”
“Got news. We know who hacked Endeavor.”
“Who?” we ask.
“Simon.”
“Simon? Like the Gatekeeper, Simon?” Jett questions.
“One and the same.” Juice confirms.
“Isn’t he supposed be the one protecting our classified information?”
“Yes, but he also doubles as a hacker. Turns out he’s been working an undercover mission of his own.”
“And no one knew about it?”
“Adams did.”
“Of course, he did,” I state aggravated. Commander Adams knows everything that goes on with Endeavor, he’s the fucking man behind the curtain. “He didn’t think to clue anyone else in?”
“Too dangerous. They wanted this guy. Bad.”
“Bad enough to let him think he was hacking one of the most powerful security agencies in the world?” Jett asks.
“So it seems. Simon had to lay low until all the information was transferred. Well, all the wrong information anyway.”
“So, no identities have been compromised?” I ask.
“None but the guy who hired Simon to hack us.”
“And that would be who exactly?” I inquire on the edge of my seat.
“That’s what I’m calling about. Kayne, you’re not going to like this. I’m sending a pic.”
A new message pops up on my screen.
“His name is Eduardo Sanchez or, as he’s known on the street, Protégé.”
“Protégé?” Jett and I repeat in unison as I open the text.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“What?” Jett glances tensely between me and the road as he drives. “What is it?”
I hold up my phone so he can see, all the blood draining from my body.
“It’s Michael.”
“I CAN’T BREATHE!” I SCREAM as I kick and flail, being hauled around with a hood over my head.
I’m suddenly dropped on the floor, hard.
Ouch!
I don’t know what happened. One minute I was walking down the street minding my own business, and the next I was being forced into the backseat of a car where I was tied up, gagged, and then shrouded in darkness. I’m now lying helplessly on my side with my hands bound behind my back and my heart on the verge of giving out. It’s been beating triple time since I was grabbed.
“Well, look who finally decided to come home,” a male voice says. The hood is removed, and I look up into a pair of dark chocolate-brown eyes. Michael’s eyes. I glance around erratically. I’m in a bedroom. A very fancy bedroom that has a beautiful view of the Pacific, white décor, and a polished wood floor. The smell of fresh flowers is as potent as air freshener.
�
�You look hot as hell like that, Ellie,” he says as I stare at him angry, confused, and unable to speak.
He props me up so I’m sitting on my butt and removes the gag. I work my jaw quickly, trying to get the feeling back.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I demand.
Michael laughs at me. “Have fun on your trip?” He lifts my chin and regards the large bite mark on my neck.
I refuse to answer.
“Looks to me like you did. You never let me give you hickeys.”
“You never tried.”
“I was holding back.”
“Why?”
“So I didn’t kill you,” he says matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. Little gullible Ellie,” he recites.
I stare at him like he’s deranged. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Let me tell you a story.” Michael diverts, avoiding my question. “There was this boy who had a father whom he loved dearly. A man he looked up to and idolized. A man who wanted him to go to college and live a straight-laced life. But the boy wanted to be just like his father. Wanted money and power and women. So the father took the boy under his wing and groomed him. And when the boy was just old enough, and had proven himself just enough,” his voice elevates, “his father is killed in cold blood and his kingdom is destroyed. Do you know what that does to a child?”
I shake my head.
“It makes him want revenge.” His eyes widen rabidly.
“Revenge on who?”
“The man who killed my father. The man who is your Master.”
“I don’t have a Master,” I contest.
“Don’t lie to me, Ellie. I saw it with my own eyes. I was there that night. I watched as he toted you around like he owned you and the world. I fucked right in front of the two of you.”
My eyes widen as images of that night, the night of the party, flash in front of my eyes. Jett dressing me up. Kayne leading me around. The roped off section of the room where we watched one of his girls get taken on the same kind of table that was in my room. Taken by Michael?
“Why were you there?” I ask dubiously.
“It was a party. I was invited.” He shrugs.
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head.
Michael sighs and crouches down so we’re eye level.
“You know, I was actually jealous of him. You were so beautiful and raw and intoxicating. I wanted what he had. I wanted you.”