And vowed to rip the guy’s fucking heart out.
“He just—he wouldn’t—”
“Shhhh. You’re safe now. You’re safe. I won’t let him touch you ever again.”
She whimpered and nodded, dampening his shirt with her tears.
“I was just there at the cocktail lounge before I came to your apartment. Frank wasn’t there, but I’m going back to find him. He’s in some deep shit—some other men were there looking for him, too, rummaging around in his office. And they were fucking pissed. Is he in some kind of trouble that you know about?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, pulling away. “Probably, knowing him. It wouldn’t surprise me. And he’s been calling and texting me all afternoon.”
“Did you talk to him or respond?”
She shook her head no.
“Don’t. Something’s not adding up. He should be there on a Saturday night. His bartender thought he was in his office, but all I found were some assholes looking for him. Said he owed them money. I’ll get his home address from his files if I have to. Track that prick down. Stay here, and don’t open the door until I get back.”
“But I have to go out. I still don’t have any food here, and I wanted to get a couple of things at the grocery store.”
“I had Matthew order groceries for you. From one of those delivery services. Don’t open the door for anyone but the delivery guy.”
“Brent, I can’t afford that. Seriously. I can’t even—”
“Damn it. I’m not letting you starve yourself, Ella. You almost passed out in the hallway. You’ll get your new job and get on your feet again, but right now? I’ll take care of it. I can afford some damn groceries.”
“Brent—” she protested.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, effectively ending the conversation.
“What are you even doing here? Why’d you come down to Florida?”
“We’ll talk later.”
Ella didn’t say anything, just looked at him with wounded eyes, and his heart clenched. Her gaze skittered around the apartment, like she didn’t know what to believe. She was dealing with a lot of shit from her boss, with the stress of barely having enough money to scrape by, and the last thing she needed was him to make her life more complicated.
But that’s exactly what he planned to do—complicate her life. Make her his.
“Ella.”
She met his gaze.
“We’ll talk when I get back. He will never touch you again. Never. Don’t leave this apartment.”
“I won’t.”
“I protect what’s mine,” he growled.
Brushing a kiss across her forehead, he turned to the door. Ella looked completely bewildered—shocked he was there, upset about what happened. No doubt still also pissed at him. He’d take her anger though just as long as she was safe. Just as long as that asshole didn’t touch her ever again.
And after that, he’d let her know in no uncertain terms that she was his.
Chapter 12
Ella watched in disbelief as Brent stormed out of her apartment, uneasiness churning through her. What the hell had just happened? She didn’t even know what he was doing here in Florida, but somehow, inexplicably, she felt relief. She’d been certain Brianna was joking when she’d said Brent was on his way.
Brent.
Seriously?
She was still pissed as hell at him, but to let someone else take control of the situation felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Things had already escalated out of control. Her heart raced every time she got a damn text message, certain it was Frank harassing her more. She’d been jumpy every time someone brushed against her at work last night after what had happened. And if Brent would help her deal with her asshole of a manager so she could move on with her life, then she’d take it. She wasn’t above accepting his help with that.
But…Jesus.
When he’d gotten all growly, declaring that he protected what was his? She’d just about turned into one of those women who threw themselves at a man. Because something about the possessiveness in his deep voice had been sexy as hell. But he was the one who’d freaking shot her down the other night. Left her half naked on the sofa, tossing a blanket over her as if he didn’t even want to look at her anymore.
And it was embarrassing as hell.
A loud knock sounded on her door, and she sighed, wondering what Brent wanted. He’d been gone, what, twenty seconds? Had he even brought anything inside to accidentally forget? She crossed her small apartment and opened the door, gasping in surprise as two menacing-looking men crowded the doorway. Her eyes widened at the tall, bald man with tattoos running up and down his thick arms. He leered at her, his green eyes roaming up and down her body, and she unwittingly took a step back. The shorter man chuckled and she tried to look away from the long, angry scar across his face, like someone had slashed him with a knife.
She tried to slam the door shut, but they were too strong, and she screamed as they pushed their way inside and the shorter one grabbed her. He easily hefted her off the ground, pinning her arms to her sides and laughing as she kicked and struggled. “Frank gave you to us for the night,” he hissed. “There’s no sense in fighting because you’re not getting away. And we’re gonna have some fun with you.”
“She might make it worth all the trouble that asshole has caused us,” Baldy sneered. “That bitch is even hotter than Frank said. I could bang her all night.”
“No!” Ella shouted as a large hand covered her mouth.
Scarface carried her across the small studio toward her bed. She desperately fought him, twisting in his grasp as his arms tightened, his sweaty body holding her close.
“Hurry up!” the bald one shouted. “I want to go a couple of rounds with her, too.”
“Wait your fucking turn.”
He cursed as his phone rang loudly, and she bit down on his hand. Hard. He shoved her onto the bed, pulling a gun from his waistband as she scampered away. “Not a fucking sound,” he said, aiming it at her.
Tears streaked down Ella’s cheeks, and she shook as she scooted back across her bed, putting as much distance between them as possible. With the gun trained on her, she didn’t dare try to escape. There was no way she could make it to the door anyway with the huge, hulking man on the other side of the room. Which one of them would be worse to deal with? Maybe she could convince them to leave. Act like she had money in the bank or something that she could give them. Maybe Brent would come back.
Please come back.
Had they passed him in the parking lot? Just missed each other by mere seconds? Why wasn’t he here to help her?
She trembled as fresh sobs erupted.
Scarface barked orders into the phone, and the bald man paced back and forth, looking like a bull getting ready to charge. Finally, he bit out a curse and stalked toward her, his hand going to the zipper on his pants.
“No!” she shouted.
“Change of plans,” Scarface snapped as he disconnected the call, waving the gun closer to her. “Our lookout just saw her boyfriend in the parking lot. Get up!”
Shaking, Ella didn’t move a muscle.
“Get off the fucking bed before I drag you out of here here myself!”
Tears running down her cheeks, she inched to the foot of the bed. She’d never feel safe in her apartment again. Never. When they got out to the parking lot, she’d scream and put up a fight so the neighbors would hear. But she wasn’t leaving with them. They’d have to kill her right there before she agreed to go.
“Jesus Christ,” Baldy muttered. “I could’ve fucked her once already.”
She stood up, shaking, and the guy pointing the gun at her nodded. She looked at him in confusion, when a cloth suddenly covered her face. It smelled sickeningly sweet, and she reached up, trying to pull it away, before everything faded to blackness.
***
Brent muttered an oath as he stormed across the parking lot of
Ella’s apartment building. As if he needed another fucking problem. He shoved the keys to his rental car back into the pocket of his cargo pants and jogged the last few steps to the man lying bloodied on the ground, half hidden beneath a car. He grabbed his cell phone, ready to dial 911, when he did a double take.
Ella’s manager gazed bleary eyed at him from the asphalt, a bruise forming around his eye, blood pooling beneath his head, his arm twisted in a sickening fashion. “The fuck are you doing here?” Brent demanded.
“I owed some guys money,” he said, wincing in pain.
“And why are you at Ella’s apartment complex?”
“They came looking for me at my house. That bitch has caused me nothing but problems for the past month, so I told them to take her for the night.”
Brent’s heart dropped as icy cold dread snaked through him.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I brought them over here. Told them where Ella’s apartment was. Said they could have her as collateral for the money I owe them. Have some fun with her tonight. They beat the shit out of me anyway though,” he moaned, rolling to the side.
“They’re in there now?” Brent demanded, his blood running cold. He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and sprinted back toward the stairwell, pulling his gun from his pants. Ten more steps and he’d be back at the building, but would he be too late? He flew up the stairs two at a time, cursing that he hadn’t paid more attention to who else was out in the parking lot as he’d been leaving. He raced down the breezeway he and Ella had walked along moments before, and his heart stopped.
Ella’s front door was wide open.
“Ella!” he shouted.
A large delivery truck pulled into the parking lot, and he grumbled. Now the fucking groceries arrive? He should’ve told her not to open the goddamn door for anyone.
“Ella, where are you?” he repeated.
Rushing inside, his eyes swept around Ella’s apartment. Not a thing out of place. No signs of a struggle. Her laptop lay on the table where she’d left it before. Her purse was hanging from one of the chairs. This wasn’t a robbery. They’d simply taken her.
He recalled the men he’d seen earlier in the evening—two huge, tatted up dudes in the back of the cocktail lounge. Fucking hell. Brent and any of the men on his SEAL team could take them, but Ella? She wouldn’t have a damn chance.
“Shit!” he shouted, punching the wall. The drywall easily gave way, and he cursed as he pulled his fist back out of the wall. He was out the front door and sprinting back down the steps in seconds. Tearing across the parking lot like a man crazed.
“Where is she?” he demanded, rage simmering inside him as he loomed over Frank.
He moaned in pain, gingerly clutching at his injured arm. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s fucking gone?” he roared.
Frank looked defeated in that moment. Resigned. As if he knew Brent wouldn’t do anything worse than the pieces of shit who’d already beaten him up. “They took her. I owed them money on a gambling debt, and they took Ella as a payment. You just missed them,” he laughed.
Brent was on his knees in an instant, his hand tightening around Frank’s throat. “You think this is a fucking game? Some kind of a joke to me?”
Frank tried to spit at him, and Brent tightened his grip, watching the man gasp for air. He had half a mind to choke the life right out of him, but he didn’t know who those men were. Where they lived. How to get Ella back. Maybe he could pull footage from them earlier at the cocktail lounge. See if there were security cameras here in the apartment complex. But the man on the ground beneath him had answers.
Brent finally released his grip, watching Frank’s eyes water as he coughed. “She’s caused me nothing but trouble,” Frank wheezed, chest heaving.
“Tell me where they went.”
“Call an ambulance,” he pleaded.
“Not a fucking chance. Where. Is. She.”
“Don’t know,” Frank gasped as Brent’s hand went to his throat again.
“Wrong answer,” he growled.
“The pawn shop. They work at the pawn shop on 5th. They take bets on the side.”
Brent rose, pulling his keys from his pocket. “Wait!” Frank shouted as Brent jogged across the parking lot. “Call 911!” Grumbling, Brent called for an ambulance as he raced out of the lot. He barked out the address of Ella’s apartment complex over the phone and then sped down the road, not giving two fucks if he was breaking every law in the books.
Nothing could happen to Ella.
Nothing.
Because he’d never ever forgive himself.
Chapter 13
Ella’s mind was foggy as she slowly began to wake up. She struggled to open her heavy eyelids and was greeted only by darkness. Her head pounded, and she tightly closed her eyes again, trying to stop the pain. It did nothing to alleviate the ache or confusion. The throbbing in her temples. She swallowed, her dry mouth uncomfortable. It felt like it had been stuffed with cotton for hours. She wracked her brain, trying to remember what happened, but it was like she was trying to recapture the lost details of a dream. It was just on the edge of her memory, right there, but slipping away. Fading. Like sand slipping through an hour glass. One more second and it would be gone forever.
And she was tired. So tired.
Had she spent the night somewhere? She’d flown home from Virginia the other day, so she wasn’t still at Kenley’s place. But she wasn’t in her apartment. She wasn’t in her own bed.
She blinked, once again groggily looking around the room, but there was nothing but infinite darkness. Was it night or day?
Why couldn’t she remember anything?
Breathing deeply as she tried to fully regain consciousness, awareness slowly trickled back. The rough sheets on the bed chafed against her bare legs. She shifted uneasily as beads of sweat clung to her forehead. Nausea roiled through her at the stale cigarette scent in the air.
But where was she? How did she get here?
Fear washed over her as she realized she didn’t even know how much time had passed since she’d last been at her apartment. Was that only last night? Or had days gone by with her not remembering? How could she not know what time it was? Or where she was? What had happened to her?
She’d been at her apartment waiting for…Brent? Why had he been there anyway?
“The hell I can’t go in there!” a deep male voice shouted from the hallway. The doorknob rattled, and she realized she was locked in the room. Lying on a bed.
“You can’t fuck her when she’s unconscious!”
“I’ll do whatever I goddamn want. That bastard owes us, and I’m collecting on his debts.”
Were they talking about…her? Her chest clenched in fear as she strained to hear the rest of the conversation.
“I told you, you used too much of those chemicals. I wanted you to temporarily knock her out, not put her in a coma or something. She’s been out for two hours!”
“How the hell would I know?” a voice shouted back.
Footsteps pounded away, getting quieter, moving down the hall. Should she get up? Try to open the bedroom door? She was just…so…tired. She was getting pulled under again by the endless darkness. It was like waves were crashing over her, tossing her around, confusing her. Sucking her back down. Lulling her to sleep.
If she just closed her eyes….
Later. Everything would make sense later.
***
“Fucking hell,” Brent spat out over the phone. “I’m at the goddamn pawn shop, and those guys aren’t here. The entire place is locked up. Not even a car in the lot. Put Blade on the phone. Maybe he can hack into the store’s computers and pull up some names. Addresses. Anything. I’m going to track those motherfuckers down and find out where they took Ella.”
“Easy now,” Matthew drawled on the other end of the phone. “We’ll find her. Blade’s on his way over to our place right now.”
; “Shit!” Brent cursed, pacing back and forth in front of the steel gates covering the storefront. “We’re wasting time. Too much time. I can’t believe I didn’t see them in the goddamn parking lot!”
“There’s probably surveillance at the apartment complex. Blade can hack into anything. We’ll pull that up, run their plates, and you’ll be on your way to her in no time. And Cobra,” he said, calling Brent by his nickname.
“What?” Brent snapped.
“Not a word of this to Brianna. Not until we find Ella.”
“Affirmative,” Brent muttered. Jesus Christ. Like he’d want to drag Ella’s friend into this clusterfuck.
His phone buzzed with an incoming call, and Christopher’s name flashed across the screen. “Gotta go,” he barked at Matthew.
“What do you need?” Christopher asked, instantly all business. Thank fuck for that. Sometimes Brent bickered with the guys on his team like they were his brothers, but when the shit hit the fan, they had each other’s backs.
“Names. Home addresses. Some assholes involved in some dirty deals with Ella’s manager at the cocktail lounge took her. They fucking took her!” he shouted, his gut churning. Jesus Christ. If anyone would understand, Christopher would. Lexi had been kidnapped months ago. Held against her will by some crazy man intent on stealing national security secrets. The entire team had worked together to track her down. To save her. But to have the same goddamn thing happen to Ella? To have someone take her from her own apartment? He’d never let her out of his sight again. Never. He’d quit the service if he had to. Give up his life as a SEAL.
The thought of her alone and helpless nearly slayed him.
“Already pulling up the data,” Christopher said, his voice cool. “Let me do my thing, and you can go get your girl.”
Brent pounded his fist into the brick wall, the rough texture scraping his skin. He glanced down at the blood on his hand, barely visible in the dim light from the parking lot.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered.
Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) Page 13