by Rita Herron
“Tell us what happened,” Lucas said. “You took DiSanti’s baby?”
Mila sipped her coffee, then decided to tell him everything. She might be in trouble, but the most important thing was saving Izzy from that horrible man. “You asked if I was raped and I told you no. But Izzy’s birth mother was one of DiSanti’s victims.”
Brayden hissed between his teeth at the image she painted.
“Go on,” Lucas said.
The memory of Carina coming to her that rainy night flashed back, stirring pain and fear. “The girl’s name was Carina,” Mila said. “I met her at the clinic after she escaped DiSanti. She was pregnant and alone and terrified. She had no place to go, so I arranged for her to stay in a shelter.”
“She could have come to us,” Lucas said. “If she’d testified, we could have protected her.”
Mila swallowed back disgust. “You don’t understand how terrified and traumatized she was. She was a little girl herself. She’d been drugged and forced to entertain men. Then DiSanti decided he wanted her for himself.” She sipped her coffee again, the chill inside her growing more intense at the memory. “He locked her in his private lair and raped her repeatedly.”
Silence, thick and filled with the horror of her words, stretched between them for several seconds.
Lucas cleared his throat. “How did she get away from DiSanti?”
Mila traced a finger around the rim of her mug. “She said the minute she realized she was pregnant, that she decided she had to leave. She didn’t want him to know about the baby.” She paused, thinking about how frightened Carina must have been. And how brave.
“DiSanti traveled a lot,” she continued. “One night when he was gone, she sneaked out the window. She said she ran for miles and miles. His men came after her, but she hid in a drainpipe, then an abandoned mine for days with no food. She drank water from a nearby creek at night when she thought no one was looking for her.”
Emotions twisted Brayden’s face, but he didn’t comment.
“Then what?” Lucas asked.
“One night she hitched a ride to Austin. By then, she was feverish and dehydrated. A woman picked her up and brought her to my clinic. She was terrified and so alone, but eventually she told me her story.”
“You knew who DiSanti was?” Lucas asked.
Mila nodded. “I’d heard his name floating around in relation to human trafficking.” Mila released a pent-up breath. “When she was feeling better, I helped Carina move into a shelter. In the past three years, two more girls escaped DiSanti and showed up at the clinic. I helped them find a safe place, as well.”
Brayden finally spoke. “Good God, Mila, does DiSanti know all this?”
“When he showed up at my clinic for the surgery, he said I’d taken girls away from him and that I owed him.”
“That’s the reason he chose you for the cosmetic surgery,” Brayden said, as if it made sense now.
“Did DiSanti know about Izzy?” Lucas asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. At least, he didn’t mention her or her mother.”
“No doubt he would have if he’d known,” Lucas said.
Mila nodded. “He would probably have killed me right after I finished the surgery.”
A strained silence fell between them, mired in the truth of her statement.
Brayden shifted. “So how did you come to have Izzy?”
Mila rubbed her temple where a headache was staring to pulse. “One rainy night shortly after Izzy was born, Carina showed up at my door. She said the people at the shelter found a home where she could live and attend school. She knew she was too young to raise a child on her own and wanted to make a future for herself. Then she begged me to take Izzy and raise her.” Her voice cracked. “What was I supposed to do?” she said in a raw whisper. “I couldn’t turn her away or let that little baby go into the system. And I sure as hell couldn’t let DiSanti have her.”
Only now he did.
“Do you know where DiSanti is or where he was going?” Brayden asked.
Mila gaped at him. “Of course not. If I did, I would have told you.”
“Did Carina sign Izzy over to you? Did you file adoption papers?” Brayden asked.
Mila chewed the inside of her cheek. There was no use lying. He would find out that there was no official adoption. “No, she was scared and in a hurry when she left. I was afraid if I filed for adoption, that DiSanti would discover the truth and come after Izzy.”
Brayden cursed, then stood and walked to the French doors. She wanted to join him, to ask him to forgive her for keeping secrets.
But he obviously didn’t want to hear it.
Lucas cleared his throat. “Have you been in touch with him since we left the FBI field office?”
Mila glanced down at her hands again. She wanted to trust them, to tell them about the text.
But DiSanti had her little girl. And she couldn’t do anything to jeopardize Izzy’s life.
So she shook her head no.
* * *
BRAYDEN NEEDED TIME to assimilate everything Mila had confessed.
Faced with the fact that she’d lied to him, he didn’t know whether to trust her now. She’d bent the truth to help Izzy and her young mother, or at least that’s what she wanted them to believe.
The Mila he thought he knew would have done that.
But for some reason, he sensed she was still holding back.
Not to mention she’d broken the law. Technically DiSanti had legal rights to his daughter whereas Mila could be charged with kidnapping.
He believed in upholding the law, but this time there were grays. Mila’s daughter was an innocent, trusting little girl.
How could he put her back in the hands of the monster who sold and traded young girls and women?
Lucas’s phone buzzed, and he stepped aside to answer it.
“I’m sorry, Brayden,” Mila said. “I wanted to tell you everything that day at the FBI office, but I was afraid.”
“Afraid you’d go to jail for kidnapping?” Brayden asked, his voice harsher than he’d intended.
Hurt flashed across Mila’s face. “No, afraid DiSanti would learn about Izzy. If you’d seen this thirteen-year-old girl, beaten and bruised and terrified of DiSanti, you’d understand.”
He had seen Evie, Mae Lynn, Adrian and Agnes. “You should have trusted me to understand.”
Mila shrugged. “All I wanted to do was help Carina recover and have a future. That’s what she wanted for her baby, too.” She touched his arm. “What else could I have done?”
A muscle ticked in Brayden’s jaw. Before he could respond, Lucas stepped back inside. “I have to go. Charlotte is on her way to pick you up, Mila. One of the girls at the hospital wants to talk to you.”
“Does she have information?” Brayden asked.
“I don’t know,” Lucas said, “but they opened up to Charlotte and Mila yesterday. Maybe one of them remembered something helpful.” He gestured to his phone. “Meanwhile, forensics identified a print from Dr. Manchester’s house. Belongs to a man associated with Jameson Beck. I’m going to question him.”
Brayden couldn’t just sit around. He wanted to do something.
And he needed space from Mila. Although he understood her reasons for keeping secrets, it hurt that she hadn’t trusted him.
Especially after the night before.
A knock sounded, and Brayden let Charlotte in. She took one look across the room and must have felt the tension. “Should I come back?”
Mila shook her head no. “Let me freshen up. I’ll be right back.” She ducked into the guest room and the shower water kicked on.
“What’s going on?” Charlotte asked.
Lucas explained the situation while Brayden cleaned up in his bathroom. Ten minutes later, he was ready. Mila emer
ged about the same time. She’d pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, and looked young and vulnerable, and so damn sad that he wanted to draw her in his arms again and make love to her until they both forgot the obstacles between them.
But he was done playing the fool.
As soon as they got Izzy back, figured out what to do with her and captured DiSanti, she’d be out of his life.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mila’s nerves were on edge as Charlotte drove toward the hospital. Her friend turned into the parking lot of a small diner before they arrived and cut the engine.
“Come on, we’re stopping for a hot breakfast,” Charlotte said. “You look like you need it.”
Mila swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed her daughter back. “I’m really not hungry.”
Charlotte touched her arm and offered her a stern look. “You may not be, but you need to eat and keep up your strength.”
Tears blurred Mila’s eyes. “I can’t believe you’re being so nice to me. Aren’t you angry like Lucas and Brayden?”
Charlotte’s heartfelt sigh mirrored the tender understanding in her eyes. “How can I be mad at you for protecting your child?”
Mila bit her lip. “Didn’t Lucas tell you the rest?”
Charlotte squeezed Mila’s hand between her own. “What? That DiSanti is her father?”
Mila nodded miserably. “Her mother—”
“Was a terrified young girl who was raped,” Charlotte said. “For that alone, DiSanti needs to go to prison. And then there’s all his other crimes. When I think of what he did to Evie and Mae Lynn and Adrian and Agnes, I get riled up all over again.”
“She was so scared when she came to me,” Mila said softly.
“And brave,” Charlotte said. “She escaped him, and she did the most unselfish thing anyone can do. She must have loved the baby to give her up.”
“She wanted her to have a better life,” Mila said. “And I wanted that for both of them.”
“I know you did,” Charlotte said softly. “And I promise that we’ll find Izzy, and she’ll have a future with you.”
“But Brayden looked so hurt, and they’re both furious that I didn’t tell them the truth sooner.” Mila gulped. “And technically Izzy isn’t mine. What if I get her back and they take her away from me?”
Charlotte hissed between her teeth. “Don’t worry about that. The Hawk men may be miffed now, but they’re the most protective bunch of males I’ve ever met. They won’t let DiSanti keep Izzy. And they’d never let anyone take a baby out of her mama’s arms.”
She released her hand. “Except legally I’m not her mama.”
“You are in every way that counts,” Charlotte assured her. “The rest is paperwork. And Brayden is excellent at cutting through red tape.” She opened her car door and motioned for Mila to follow. “Now, let’s grab some breakfast before we visit the girls. It’s going to be another long day.”
Mila checked her phone as she got out and said a prayer that she’d hear something today.
She didn’t know how much more waiting she could take.
* * *
BRAYDEN’S EMOTIONS BOOMERANGED all over the place. Dammit, he still wanted to help Mila. And he sure as hell wanted to save Izzy from DiSanti.
“I know you’re upset, brother,” Lucas said. “I didn’t realize you and the doctor had gotten...chummy.”
Brayden silently cursed. “It just happened. She was upset, worried. I wanted to comfort her.”
Lucas pulled down a side street. “You sleep with all your clients to comfort them?”
Anger flared inside Brayden. “That’s not fair, man. You slept with Charlotte.”
Lucas grimaced. “For the record, I’m not proud of the fact that I was on the job.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “That said, I’m not sorry it happened though. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
That was true.
For a second last night, Brayden had entertained the idea that Mila was his Charlotte.
Fool.
Brayden scanned the parking lot of the feed store where this guy Theo was supposed to be working. “Once we catch DiSanti and rescue Izzy, what’s going to happen to Izzy?”
Lucas shifted the vehicle into Park and cut the engine. “Let’s just get him and save Izzy. Then we’ll discuss where to go from there.”
What more could Brayden ask for?
For Lucas not to arrest Mila for kidnapping? Technically she hadn’t... In her situation, he would have done the same thing. And no way would Lucas have let that baby be carted off by DiSanti.
Lucas climbed out, and Brayden followed him up to the door of the feed store. The store looked empty, a truck parked to the side by a loading dock. Brayden took a few steps and noticed more trucks in the back at the loading dock. Voices echoed from the dock, and cigarette smoke curled into the air near the rear door.
He motioned to Lucas that he was heading that way while his brother strode inside the store. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket and adjusted his Stetson, glad he’d worn jeans and a T-shirt and cowboy boots. Sometimes the suit was intimidating.
Two men looked up and went still, their conversation quieting.
A big burly guy in a jean jacket and battered boots sauntered toward him, his posture defensive. Brayden wasn’t a small guy, but this man probably outweighed him by fifty pounds and carried himself like a street fighter. “What can we do for you, mister?”
Brayden tilted his hat to the side. “Looking for Theo Reeves? Is that you?”
The guy’s brows pinched together. “Who’s asking?”
It was Reeves. Damn. Brayden had to stall. He might need backup. He moved forward, lifting his chin. “I’m looking for a missing kid. A three-year-old little girl named Izzy Manchester. I think you know where she is.”
Panic flashed across the brawny man’s face. “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Really?” Lucas appeared from the back door. “Because your print showed up at her house. The very house where she was abducted at gunpoint.”
The man’s gaze shot from Lucas to him, then he growled and broke into a run. Lucas raised his gun and shouted for the man to stop, but Reeves dived into the driver’s side of a feed truck.
Brayden was closer and jogged after him, then yanked at the door as the man started the engine. The engine fired up, and Theo started to back away.
Lucas fired a shot at the tires. Brayden yanked at the car door and pulled it open. Theo punched him in the face, and Brayden’s head jerked backward. Dammit, he didn’t intend to let this bastard get the best of him.
Mila and Izzy needed him.
He clutched the door and grabbed Theo’s beefy arm. But Theo lifted his free hand and raised a gun with it, pointing it straight at Brayden.
Brayden cursed and reached for his own, but the man pushed the gun at Brayden’s temple, and he froze.
A second later, a bullet whizzed by his head. Theo’s body bounced backward, and blood spurted from his forehead where Lucas’s bullet had hit its mark.
* * *
MILA HADN’T THOUGHT she could eat, but she felt marginally better after a hearty breakfast and coffee. Still, the uncertainty of where Izzy was and what Brayden and Lucas planned needled her.
When they arrived at the hospital, she checked on Keenan and Anita and Frannie while Charlotte went to visit the two other victims.
Keenan was sitting up and looked more rested and focused, as if the last of the drugs had been flushed from her system.
“Did you find Izzy?” Keenan asked.
Mila shook her head. “Not yet.”
Keenan twisted the sheets between her fingers. “I remembered something else. I don’t know if it’s important or not.”
Mila stroked the girl’s shoulder. “E
ven the smallest detail might help, sweetie.”
“I heard them talking about a plane.”
“You mean a flight they were going to catch?”
Keenan shook her head. “I think it was a small plane. A private one.”
Mila sucked in a sharp breath. Of course, DiSanti had the money for a private jet. It also made it easier for him to escape.
“Did they mention where they were flying?”
Keenan shook her head. “They said they had to wait until he was feeling better.”
“He?”
“They didn’t use his name. But I knew who they were talking about.”
Mila’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She grabbed it and checked the screen.
You aren’t listening, Dr. Manchester. I thought you wanted to see your daughter again.
Fear caught in her throat. She told Keenan she’d be right back. She walked down the hall to the vending machine then sent a return text to DiSanti, but the text immediately bounced back.
She made a pained sound, barely stifling a scream. A footstep sounded behind her. She started to spin around to see who was there, but something sharp jabbed her in the back.
Then a man’s low growl in her ear, “If you scream or try to alert someone, the kid is dead.”
Mila went perfectly still. “I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t hurt my daughter.”
“Then walk.”
Mila forced a breath in and out, then did as he ordered. She passed two nurses she recognized from the night before, then ducked into the elevator. The man holding the gun on her remained close behind her, the barrel of his gun digging into her back.
Her heart pounded when a janitor and a young couple with a baby entered the elevator. The baby in the pink blanket reminded her of her daughter.
The janitor narrowed his eyes at her as if he recognized her, maybe from the night before, but she simply smiled at him, then pretended interest in her phone.
The doors whooshed open on the second floor, and the janitor exited. The couple followed, and she was left alone with the man and his gun. He ordered her toward an exit, and she walked on unsteady legs to the door.