Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3)

by Rachel Blaufeld

  Another jewel.

  Totally spent, the pair crumpled to the floor, lying still in each other’s arms.

  “Want to take a bath?” Mike asked, running his hand down Lynx’s bare back, stroking his fingers over her tattoo.

  She knew he didn’t need to see it to know where it was—he’d spent many Sunday afternoons memorizing its every intricacy. The quiet afternoon she’d pointed out the words CASH OUT, he’d made love to her on the spot.

  Lynx gave him a small smile. “Yes, I’m all sticky.”

  He picked her up and carried her to the master bath. There he filled the tub, tossing in sample bath salts they had from the Firefly, and removed her shoes. When the water was to his liking, they settled in the tub.

  Lynx leaned back against Mike’s chest, breathing out a sigh of contentment.

  “Perfect,” he muttered, pulling her hair to the side. Whispering into her ear, he asked, “Marry me?”

  The water was steaming hot, but Lynx couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her.

  Three days later

  “MIKE, THERE’S a Benito Benzo here to see you.”

  “I’ll be right out,” I told the front desk attendant and hung up my private line. I strode out of my office wearing a T-shirt, Puma track jacket, jeans, and black patent Jordans. I was that kind of boss—a dressed-down one.

  “Mr. Benzo,” I said, greeting the small man wearing an Armani suit in my lobby.

  “Mr. Wind.” He offered his hand and I took it.

  “Mike, please.” Mr. Wind was my dad, and while he’d been both supportive and civil lately, I was my own man.

  “Then Benito, I insist.”

  “Let’s go back to my office. You brought something for me?” I cocked an eyebrow at his case and he nodded. Apparently, he was the best at what he did.

  I led him back to my office and tossed my jacket over my chair, leaving my tattoo on full display as I pointed to the table. “Let’s set up over here.”

  Benito set his case down and opened it. When the bright sunlight hit its contents, it set the room ablaze.

  “Nice,” I said.

  “All of these are top quality and clarity, like you asked, and all are platinum set. I also brought a sizable selection mixed with different-colored stones as you requested.”

  Lynx had said yes, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to get her a ring. I could afford the best, and that was what she was going to receive.

  In my mind, the ring had to have some color—something warm and bright like her true heart. I gravitated toward a large emerald-cut diamond flanked by two yellow diamonds, bold like the sun, emanating warmth like the big ball in the sky.

  A while back, Lynx had mentioned she was tinged, colored with something bad or some such shit. I hated hearing it. No fucking way was I letting her live the rest of her life feeling that way.

  “This one,” I said, tapping a finger on it.

  “Good choice.”

  Benito packed up his case while I wrote him a check with a lot of zeroes.

  “Nice doing business with you,” he said as I walked him to the front entrance. “Send anyone my way.”

  I CAME home to a dark condo. “Lynx?” I called out, looking at my phone.

  It was after seven. After meeting with Benito and then showing the ring to Lisa, I had to head up a marketing meeting. I’d capped off the day dealing with a shitstorm over by the hot tub—a very angry wife had caught her husband vacationing with her best friend.

  In all the excitement of the afternoon, I hadn’t texted with Lynx.

  She had plans to meet her therapist and then head to lunch with Sammy today. Lynx was supposed to be picking up some of her sister’s pieces to sell in the hotel’s boutique, and show Sammy the latest pages of her book.

  Overwhelmed with the book and busy helping me, she’d put her degree on hold again, pushing her classes to the side. “I’ve learned more in the last few years than most do in a lifetime,” she told me.

  Considering the options where she could be, I tossed my track jacket and T-shirt in the hamper, changed into a pair of jeans with holes worn in the knees, and made my way to the bar. In my mind, if Lynx got home soon, maybe we’d stay in.

  It wasn’t until I was screwing the top off the Jack that a shiver swept over me. I didn’t like that she wasn’t home, hadn’t called or texted. Trying to tamp down my caveman instincts, I grabbed my phone and shot her off a text just as a call came in.

  My stomach sank when I saw the call was from Landon.

  “Talk to me,” I demanded. “Where’s Lynx? She was supposed to meet Sammy, and now she’s not here.”

  “Listen, Mike, I’m in my car, heading to get you, and then we’ll talk.”

  “No fucking way. Spill it.” I paced the dark apartment, finally leaning my forehead against the window.

  “We’re going to fix this.”

  “What?” My question reverberated off the glass. “What the fuck are you going on about?”

  “Bruno made a deal, gave the Feds some info about the other guys, the ones Zayid sends ahead of time. Apparently, the intel was good, and he was cut loose.”

  “Fuck it to hell, Landon.”

  “Of course, he was told to lay low, stay clean and honest, but you know he’s an idiot.”

  “Where is my woman?” Thank God the window was made of safety glass, because my fist met with it three solid times in a row. Then a fourth for good measure.

  “We’re going to find her.”

  I growled, unable to form a sentence.

  “They were at lunch, and Bruno walked right up to their table. Stepped behind Lynx, packing heat, and told Sam he’d shoot if she made a peep. Then he walked Lynx out of there.”

  “FUCK!”

  “Sam is at home, in shock. I left an agent with her. I know you got your other girl in a safe house, but I’d warn her.”

  Lisa.

  “What about my real fucking girl?”

  “We’re on it. Looking as we speak. I’m going to come get you, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Did you call Carson?”

  “On his way.”

  Of course, I was the last to know.

  Trying to put a lid on my rage, I ground out, “I’m going to have Sampson go check on Lisa, but you better get here fast or I’m going rogue on this one.”

  I disconnected the call, called Sampson, and then punched the shit out of the mirrored shower door—which wasn’t fucking safety glass.

  LYNX FINALLY felt at peace. She’d dropped out of her classes but was helping Mike. He acted all tough like he didn’t need any help, but it was an act. He wanted her help.

  “I love your help, it’s just I don’t want to let you make any more sacrifices,” he’d told her.

  Bullshit. He loved it and she knew it.

  The writing had been a pleasant surprise. She couldn’t believe how much she loved curling up in a corner of a coffee shop and writing down her thoughts and experiences. She’d originally thought reliving them would be unsettling.

  “This is really good. Your feelings jump off the pages.” Sammy peered over the short manuscript as they were seated on the outdoor patio having a late lunch, iced teas in front of them and a bread basket in the middle of the table.

  Together, they made some notes with a red pen, occasionally striking out parts that felt too intimate to Lynx.

  “Do you think I should use a pen name?” Lynx sipped her tea and looked away, distracting herself from what her sister might think of her experiences, although she wasn’t sure why. They’d compared notes, and many of them had been the same.

  “No. This is too important. You can’t be shamed by your actions, Lynx. You were making ends meet, and were very enticed by an opportunity. You were sort of young and foolish, because you also set out to find me. And you did.”

  “Landon did,” Lynx mumbled.

  “He did, but with the help of you and your friends. He fought a lot of red tape from the agency.
Carson’s old contacts and money made it all happen faster.” When Lynx kept her gaze on her iced tea, Samara reached for her hand. “Look at me, sweetie.”

  Sighing, Lynx looked up.

  “We’re lucky to have found each other, and I’m so glad we did. We’ll have that forever.” Sammy spoke softly, her words blanketing Lynx with the warmth of unconditional love. “I’m proud of you, and so is Mike. You need to wear your story with pride.”

  Closing her eyes, Lynx imagined it—others benefitting from her story.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  Lynx’s heart stopped at the unmistakable voice that came from behind her. Something hard jutted into her back and she froze, afraid to move. Becoming all too aware of the deserted patio, which was creepily quiet, she felt her heart stammer in her chest.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance, Samara,” Bruno said. “I’ve heard all about you . . . at least when Lincoln here was loyal to me.”

  Sammy glared up at him, but kept her voice low. “I think you should go away.”

  “Not so lucky. I’m going to keep my piece right where it is—on your sister’s back—and she’s gonna leave with me. No fuss, no nothing. Hear me? Nod and smile if you do. Don’t call attention to us, or I’ll pull the trigger.”

  “Do it,” Lynx said quietly, fixing a pleading gaze on Sammy. Her sister had just told her how lucky they were to have each other. Lynx would deal with this quietly on her own, and then have a future with Sammy. And Mike.

  Oh my God. Mike is going to go ape-shit.

  “Let’s go,” Bruno demanded. “I have plans.”

  He helped Lynx stand and guided her to the exit at the rear of the patio.

  Lynx refused to turn and look at her sister. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, heading to the unknown, unafraid. She’d survived a lifetime of crap . . . she’d outsmart Bruno too.

  “What’s your plan, Bruno?”

  “Oh, you’ll see, my dark-meat pretty.” His voice was sinister, more outraged than ever before. A chill ran the length of her body at his use of Zayid’s pet name for her, but she remained stoic on the outside.

  “Here we are.” Bruno unlocked a dark Cadillac and shoved her in the passenger side, never moving his gun from her. Keeping it trained on her, he rounded the hood and got in, locked the doors, and started the engine.

  “Give me your phone,” he demanded, his gun pointing at her face.

  Cool air blasted from the vents as she reached into the pocket of her jeans shorts and pulled out her phone, just then realizing she’d left her tote with all her belongings at the table.

  Bruno took the phone and tossed it out the window, then swung a U-turn and drove back, directly over it. “Let’s hit the road.”

  He was quiet as he navigated the side streets. When he hit I-75 toward Tampa, he finally spoke.

  “My friend only had to hang around Sammy’s shop for a few days before he overheard her making lunch plans with you today. It was like winning the lottery. First thing I did was give Zayid’s men a ring. You’re worth a lot of money. I guess your sister was kinkier, but for some reason, he thought you were a real prize.”

  Resisting the urge to poke her palms with her fingernails and make herself bleed, Lynx stared straight ahead and considered her options. She could claim to need to use a bathroom and run, or she could throw herself out of the moving car.

  Or she could wait for Mike. She knew her sister would call Landon. They would find her, and maybe, just maybe, wherever Bruno was taking her would lead to the larger pipeline for girls being sent abroad.

  If she played along for a while, she could make Mike and Landon proud, lead them to the source. Rather than just dreaming about being the hero like she used to, she could actually be a savior for other women. And to do that, she figured she should act the part of a disgruntled kidnap victim.

  “You sure you want to do this?” she asked.

  Idiot that he was, Bruno told her his plan. “Oh yeah. I’m going to get my moolah and fly the coop. Caribbean, here I come. Sand, beaches, and women.”

  She shrugged.

  “For your sake, I hope it works out.”

  “If I wasn’t afraid of those assholes, I’d backhand you for that comment. But they want you unharmed.” He let out a long cackle. “They think you’re rushing back to get to them.”

  “Maybe I am.” Lynx let her old professional voice come out—coy, sexy, and wanton. She hated the way it sounded, but it seemed to please Bruno.

  They drove across Alligator Alley, and hours later made their way over the bridge and into Tampa. Bruno pulled up in front of a luxury hotel.

  “Be good. I don’t want to hurt you.” He jumped out of the car and opened her door, taking a firm grip on her wrist as she got out. “Feel good? You should’ve felt the way your boy toy squeezed my arm.”

  Mike should have stayed out of it that day. Lynx kept her thoughts to herself and walked into the hotel.

  In the lobby, Bruno urged her into an elevator and pushed the button for the seventh floor. Surprised he already had a room key, Lynx watched him pull it out and open a room.

  He pulled some rope from his pocket and tied her to a chair, leering at her as he said, “Now we wait.”

  For a second, Lynx couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she’d got herself into. She could be going back to that world, the one she’d escaped.

  “MAN, I’M freaking the fuck out,” I said as I threw open the door to my condo for Landon. “Where the hell is she? Do you have a lock on her?”

  Landon crossed the threshold and ran his hand over his face. “Tampa. Let’s go. We don’t have time for chitchat.”

  “No shit. Tampa, what the hell? You let them get that far?”

  My fist met with the mirror, shattering it—the same one Lynx had looked into to apply her lipstick a few nights ago. Pieces of glass went everywhere, raining down on our feet.

  “Fuck! I knew I should’ve kept Jovi on her, but she caught him watching her and gave me hell.”

  “Mike, beating yourself up isn’t helping. Let’s go. I shouldn’t even be taking you, but Carson assured me over the phone I was signing my death warrant if I didn’t.”

  “At least he’s right about one thing.”

  “For a preppy white boy, you’ve got a lot of street in you,” Landon said as I slammed the door closed.

  “Asher’s more of a father to me than my own. And what the fuck? Preppy? Don’t insult me.”

  He only nodded. There was nothing left to say. If Landon fucked this up, I was going to kill him, and he knew it.

  “Don’t be so cocky. This better work out in the end,” I muttered when we exited the elevator.

  Landon shot me a glare. “I didn’t waste all that time over in the desert saving those girls just for them to go back.”

  He beeped open the doors on his black Escalade and didn’t waste time gunning the engine. The flashing red law-enforcement light on the dash cleared traffic ahead of us, helping us maneuver out of the city fast, and before I knew it, we were flying over Alligator Alley.

  Landon’s phone went off every other minute or so, and he’d bark some instructions into his headset while nodding his head. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Feel me?” was about all I was privy to.

  Unable to take it anymore, I slammed my fist into the dash. “What the hell is going on? Stop with all the calls and head-shaking and uh-huhs. Fucking tell me.” I was good and sick of hearing only one side of every call.

  “She’s in a hotel in Tampa. We’re already inside with a surveillance team, and Carson is working on getting a second one. Bruno’s with her and armed. But he’s alone and outgunned, so we’re gonna get her out real soon.”

  “Tell them to do it already! What the hell are they waiting for? Go!” My voice boomed inside the car, and I didn’t give two shits.

  “We have to wait and see who’s coming, catch him on something bigger, more incriminating. He doesn’t have much more to give us.”

  “That�
�s bullshit! Stop using Lynx as a decoy. Go in, or I’m going to when we get there.”

  Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I called Carson. “Man, what’s with all this waiting shit? I want to get her out of there. Now!”

  I heard all kinds of background noise on his phone and then it went quiet.

  “I’m on my way,” Carson said. “And you need to calm the hell down. I have a team watching. Let’s see what Bruno is up to. If I didn’t think it was safe, I’d say pull her, but we got eyes on her.”

  Gripping my phone so hard it might crack, I practically yelled into it. “No, I don’t like it. Either you send someone to get her, or I am. I’m not joking, Carson.”

  I disconnected the call before he could piss me off any further.

  “Go, drive faster,” I yelled at Landon.

  WE PULLED up across the highway from the luxury hotel where Bruno was holding Lynx, stopping in front of a small commercial building that looked empty. I eyed the hotel from the passenger side window. No one knew hotels better than me. I counted the floors, guessed where the emergency exits would be, and formulated a plan in my head.

  Compared to the crap we used to pull as teens in my dad’s hotels, this was cake.

  “We got a surveillance crew inside here,” Landon told me as we sat in the SUV, nodding toward the empty building next to us. “Got a camera on the room. Lynx is tied to a chair, but she’s in no imminent danger.”

  I played dumb and continued to stare at the hotel. Chances were they were on this side of the building if his team could see them from here.

  “Which room? Show me.”

  Nodding toward the building where his team was set up, he barked at me, “Let’s go inside.”

  Who the hell did he think he was? My boss?

  Opening my door quietly, I watched Landon open the trunk and reach inside. When his attention was diverted, I jumped out of the SUV and quickly ran across the highway to the hotel. Glancing back, I watched him slam the trunk and give me the finger. He couldn’t holler for me—he’d call way too much attention to himself—so I was home free.