Never Hold Back (First Responders #2)

by JA Essen

  He walks back into the room and I stop him. “What is it? What did you find?”

  “How do most people close and open a door with a handle on it?” He quips.

  “By using the handle?” I answer his question with a question.

  “That’s right. I was able to lift three full prints from the inside and a thumb from the outside where someone gripped the door, most likely to pull it open quickly and forcefully. I need to get this information to Eads, now.”

  I gladly let him pass and watch as Eads put his hand over the microphone on the phone and smile when his agent gives him the news. Heading back into the room, he pulls out a case, secures the prints with another piece of film, and uses a small, high-definition scanner to send them through to the office.

  Eads exits the bathroom, hand over the microphone again, after being on and off the phone for at least a half an hour. “Someone, bring me the iPad now.” I don’t even wait to be told ‘no’, but rather sprint to exactly where it is, retrieve it, and have it in his hand in less than five seconds. “Thanks,” he says, slightly agitated that I was the one that acted after he had specifically told me to stay out of the way.

  Back into the bathroom, I watch as he powers it on and is able to swipe-activate the screen. He looks at me when the password screen comes up and I quickly type it in. Going to ‘settings’, he relays the ISP information along with some other specific details about the unit. Thanking whoever is on the other end of the line, he ends the call.

  “There’s a good chance they will be able to pull the call and retrieve the footage for us. They keep very secure storage, and I have an IT specialist back in the office that is working with them to get it. We should know something in a few hours.”

  Eleven A.M. rolls around and there is another knock on the door. Eads opens it for me and there is Alex, looking disheveled. Shaking his hand, and pulling him into a bro-hug, I joke, “Shit man, and I thought I looked rough.”

  He smiles, realizing how much I’ve been through in the past fifteen hours, and just shakes his head at me. “You definitely know how to diffuse a tense situation, don’t you? It’s good to see you man, I just wished like hell it wasn’t under these circumstances. I’m guessing that me telling you to get some sleep is out of the question, right?”

  “Did SEAL team Six kill bi-Laden?”

  “Alright, smart ass. Well, I’m starving seeing as I flew all night so let’s go get some food. If nothing else, you need to be away from the scene for a while.”

  I grumble a bit, but know he’s right and give in. “Fine,” I concede, “but it has to be outside. I need another smoke or two.”

  Keycard in pocket, we head back to the central portion of the resort and settle on a little a-la-carte place serving fresh corn tortilla tacos, and hand-rolled custom burritos. I’m not really hungry, but I haven’t eaten since yesterday evening at five, so I grab two pulled-chicken tacos and a beer. Popping the lid off the frigid Corona is a welcome sound, and I tilt it skyward, letting the ice-cold liquid run down my throat. The tacos are actually quite tasty with the fresh-made pico, and I manage to slowly eat them both.

  Alex on the other hand has already put away two massive burritos covered in chili sauce and is working on his third Mexi-Coke. “Dammit, Alex, you weren’t kidding were you?” I say with one eye arched at him and his cleared plate.

  “Gotta keep my girlish figure” he retorts as he rubs his belly. Sitting in that office behind a desk has definitely put a few pounds on around his midsection.

  I push my plate back, settle lower in my chair and glance out at the blue baja-waters and everyone enjoying them. Pulling a cigarette out from the pack, I light it up and take a long drag, wincing a bit at the first lung-full again. There’s no judgement whatsoever from Alex, and I’m very grateful. He knows I gave up smoking shortly after we started the academy together, but this situation gives me a free pass.

  “How the fuck does this happen on such a huge resort, man?” My eyes are still searching the waters as if Rachel will just suddenly appear.

  “You used the key word, Zander. Huge. There’s just so much open space and so many ways to get onto it, that there’s no way it can all be watched all the time. Whoever these guys are know that, too. I received information en-route that two other girls were taken from another resort nearby this week as well. Wherever Rachel is being held, I’m betting they are too. I have some guys looking into information from those resorts as well.”

  He continues to assure me that he feels strongly about the information they already have and that something will turn up, cracking the case for them. I just need to be patient, which he knows is the hardest thing in the world right now.

  No fucking shit.

  I break a little when I see a couple walk by that could nearly mimic Rachel and I if the guy wasn’t about four inches too short. Running my hands up and down my face and then through my hair, I can feel the wetness in my eyes and the burn in my throat. “I was gonna ask her to move in with me, Alex.” It comes out broken and full of despair.

  “Correction.” He covers my fist with his hand “You are going to ask her to move in with you.”

  I can’t look him in the face. It’s just too much. I put my head down on the table top to hold the tears back. I feel Alex let go of my hand when his phone starts to ring.

  “Yes. Okay. That’s the best news I’ve heard.” My head pops up and I wipe my eyes. “We’ll be right up.”

  He ends the call. “That was Eads. They got a call back already and they have an image capture from the Facetime call. And it’s clear.”

  Eleven

  Rachel

  Holy hell my head is throbbing. It feels like it may literally split open from temple to temple at any second. I try to open my eyes, but something is covering them.

  Why am I on my side? Why is the floor moving?

  Attempting to sit up, I discover that both my wrists and ankles are restrained and there’s a gag in my mouth preventing me from screaming. It all starts to flood back in like a breached damn.

  Two men busted in through the door leading out to our private patio where I had planned on having breakfast with Zander in the morning. I was Facetiming with Macy when they both rushed at me, one falling over the desk chair and the other lunging at me, catching me by the arm as I screamed for Zander and tried to roll off the bed. My kick boxing classes were completely helpless against those two monsters.

  Struggling as best I could only wound up with me busting my head into the dresser, which I’m sure is the primary culprit behind the pain now pulsing behind my eyes. I remember one of them getting his hand around to my face and placing a cloth across my mouth and nose. After that, everything goes blank until waking up just now.

  The vehicle begins to decelerate and eventually comes to a complete stop. I hear the ignition being cut and then a door slamming. Seconds later another door, much closer, slides open and there are hands on me. I begin flailing wildly about and screaming as much as I can through the gag in my mouth. I feel a sudden prick on my arm and as my head starts to spin, my will to fight gives out.

  Reality slips away.

  Again.

  When I finally come to again, I lazily open my heavy eyelids, the effects of whatever they used on me still lingering in my system. My wrists and ankles are no longer bound, but I can barely manage to even sit up against the wall. Every part of my body feels as if it weighs twice as much as it normally does. Pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my trembling arms around them, I attempt to start inventorying my surroundings.

  I’m in some small, dark, filthy room with one tiny window. My fatigued muscles won’t allow me to rise or I would try to go look out of it. Immediately to my left is a gross metal sink and next to it, a toilet. My mouth is so thick, it feels like it has been stuffed full of cotton balls. Reaching over, I turn the handle on the little sink, place my hand under the faucet and let a small amount run into it like a cup. Bringing it to my lips, it’s warm, but I don�
��t care. It passes over my lips and for the briefest of seconds, they feel better until the flavor hits my taste buds and I send it spewing back out of my mouth.

  Suddenly there is a voice and I coil back into my protective state. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “W-Who said that?” I mumble.

  There is movement from the far corner of the room that I hadn’t surveyed yet. Several beds are pushed together, and I see two other women in tattered, dirty clothes slowly start moving toward me. I pull in on myself even tighter.

  “We’re not going to hurt you. They took us, too.” The frail looking redhead sits down first in front of me, staying a few feet away, showing me she’s not confrontational. Her hair is matted, but I can tell she’s still very pretty and young like me.

  The brunette takes a seat next to her. “They took me while my husband and I were stopped at a gas station. He’d gone inside for snacks and they yanked me right out of the Jeep I was sitting in, waiting for him. They must’ve hit me quickly with something because I didn’t even have time to scream.”

  Letting the white-knuckled grip I had on my legs lessen, I start. “My boyfriend was showering in our suite on the beach when two men busted in through the private patio doors. I struggled, trying to get off the bed and make it to the bathroom, but they overpowered me and knocked me out somehow. Probably just like they did you.”

  Looking back and forth at their faces I ask, “Are you both Americans as well?”

  They just nod.

  “Do either of you know why they took us?”

  There is a commotion outside the door and they both put their fingers to their lips, motioning for me to be quiet. Several stressful moments go by and then everything goes quiet again.

  The brunette speaks in a whisper, “They don’t like it when we start talking. I got this,” she runs her fingertips over a swollen bruise on her cheek, “for refusing to shut-up and trying to talk my way out by promising to pay them more than they were being paid.”

  Fuck. It’s not about the money. What then? My stomach turns when I think about stories I’ve heard about third-world countries and prostitution rings.

  “How long have you two been here?”

  “I think this is day three for us,” the redhead answers as the brunette nods her head in agreeance. “From what we’ve discussed, I got here just a couple hours after she did.”

  “So you haven’t been told anything? Haven’t overheard anything?” The ‘flight’ need, but inability, kicks in so strongly all of a sudden that my limbs begin to shake uncontrollably.

  They both shake their heads no, and the redhead adds in, “They speak Spanish and the accents are very thick. About the only thing that’s stuck with me was ‘siete dias’ from yesterday. I think whatever is going to happen will happen seven days from yesterday.”

  Without warning, a heavily accented male voice booms from the other side of the door. “Shut up! Chicas estúpidas.” A heavy fist slams against the door, causing all three of us to jump.

  Zander, baby. Please find me. Find me quickly.

  Twelve

  Rachel

  Not sure what day it is now. I think I’ve been in here with Samantha and Alyson for three days maybe? None of us is doing well. Standing on the end of one of the beds, I peer out the small window looking into the industrial park area and say another prayer.

  Please, someone see this and call for help. Please.

  We know it’s a dangerous gamble, but we managed to tear a small section of the underside of the white mattress off and used some grease from the door hinges to create an S.O.S. flag of sorts. I’ve never been so grateful in my life for wearing a thong. Tearing the strappy sides off, we tied them to the mattress ‘flag’ and secured it to the bars of the window.

  “Has anything changed, Rachel?” Alyson is bleary eyed and her voice is hoarse.

  “Don’t think so. Everything seems to be in the exact same position as last night.” Her shoulders slump from the news. “I think that wherever we are is abandoned. The buildings don’t look like they’ve been used in years.”

  “Sam’s temperature is still up. I think it’s the water.” Alyson removes her hand from Sam’s forehead.

  “I’m sure it is. My insides are tore up, too. We probably all have Giardia infections from the disgusting water. Unfortunately, it’s either keep drinking it or dehydrate.”

  Alyson’s eyes start to tear up, “I almost think I’d rather die of dehydration than face what’s going to happen to us in two more days.”

  Scrambling down from the window, I settle in beside her, taking her hand in mine. “Don’t say that. We will get out of here. I told you, my boyfriend is a cop. I know he’s using all the possible resources he can get his hands on to find me. To find us.”

  My nerves are shattered, and I don’t know where I am finding the strength to comfort her, when all I want to do is the same; just curl up into a ball and cry until there aren’t any more tears.

  Suddenly the door is inched open and a box is pushed in, then pulled closed right behind it just as quickly.

  Cautiously, I make my way across the dusty floor to check its contents. Warily I open the flaps, relieved when I see bread, bottles of water, and beef jerky. Not exactly beef Wellington, but it’ll do.

  “Girls, we’ve got some food.” Sam doesn’t budge.

  I gather the small box up in my arms and take it to the beds, setting it down next to where Samantha is lying. Stroking my hand through her hair, I shake her back gently. “Sam, you need to wake up. We’ve got some food here. It’s not much, but you need to get something in you to give your body the energy it needs to help fight off the infection as best it can.”

  Finally, she cracks her crusty eyes open and tries to give me a weak smile. I hold her arm and help her right herself against the wall. Grabbing one of the bottles of water, I spin the lid off and place it to her lips, tilting it up and letting her drink as much as she can. Alyson busies herself, dividing the remainder of the contents into thirds.

  “Hand me a piece of bread for her, will you, Alyson? Thanks.”

  Handing the piece to Samantha, I instruct, “Take your time with it. Just nibble. I know your stomach is doing flip-flops, but it will help to settle it down. Take it slow.”

  While she gets started, I take my portioned amounts from the box and begin to eat them at a measured pace. I’m sure we won’t see any again for a day or two, so when I’ve finished half, I place the rest back into the box. Alyson takes a cue from me and does the same.

  Over the past few days, during our discussions, I’ve learned that Alyson and Samantha were taken from the same resort, which was right next to mine. They didn’t have any common background other than both being Americans. Alyson’s husband is a computer programmer, and Samantha’s boyfriend is a nutrition specialist. The abductions obviously aren’t for ransom. We are all three very pretty, so the reality that we’re being held for slave trade is becoming more and more likely.

  Doubt settles in over me as I plan my next move, but it’s the only thing I can think of to try. Meekly, I walk to the door and put my head near it. “Señor? Hola? My parents are very rich. Mucho dinero. If you would just let us go, I know they would pay you however much you want.”

  Nothing.

  “Por favor, Señor? Por favor?”

  Shuffling outside the door sends me on the defensive, and I take a couple of steps backward. The sound of the deadbolt slowly being turned sends a chill up my spine, and a spark of hope to my heart.

  A short, heavy set Hispanic man walks in. “Mucho dinero, eh? Muchos y muchos?”

  The greedy grin on his face has me nodding and talking quickly. “Sí, Señor. MUCHO.” I spread my arms wide apart to emphasize what I’m saying. Big mistake.

  Abruptly, he takes one stride forward and a heavy hand checks me in the gut, sending me tumbling backwards and onto my side.

  “Cállate y siéntate!”

  Through the tears flooding into my eyes from
the pain and terror combined, I watch him stomp out of the room muttering under his breath. I have no idea what he said to me, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you’ve got a deal little girl.

  Alyson rushes up to me as he slams the door closed and locks it. “Rachel, are you okay? I told you’ve I’ve already tried that routine once before.”

  Grabbing onto her arm, I manage to make it to the bed. Holding back the wave of nausea from being hit so hard was nearly impossible, but no way in hell was I losing what little bit of food I’ve managed to get into my system. “I’ll be okay. Just let me lay down on my side. That definitely didn’t go as I’d hoped.”

  My strength for the three of us falters as I begin to think of Zander. I don’t even try to hide it as the sobs begin softly at first and then increase in magnitude as the uninhibited tears begin to roll down my cheeks. Alyson, sitting in front of me, takes my hand in hers and begins to stroke the topside of it with her other, whispering Shh to try and soothe me. A few seconds later, I feel Samantha scoot in close behind me and her hand begins to make circles on my back.

  My boyfriend’s a cop.

  I’ll be found.

  My parents have money.

  I’ll be safe.

  This nightmare will end soon.

  This plays over and over on a loop in my head as the darkness begins to settle in over me that I may never get to tell Zander how much he means to me. How much I want to spend the rest of my life with him. How much I love him.

  Startled by who knows what, I sit bolt upright in the bed, noticing that the other two girls are huddled together in the corner, sleeping propped against one another. What the hell woke me so suddenly?

  I rub my hands across my face and as I stretch my eyes open to acclimate to the darkness, I notice a flash of light through the window.