Ransom
Benson Security 4
Janet Elizabeth Henderson
Chapter 1
It was wise to call John Garcia by his street name—Beast. Calling him John reminded him of the asshole who’d fathered him, which tended to bring out his violent streak. He supposed he should have legally changed the John to something else, but he liked having an excuse for being the Beast. The nickname fit with the life he lived in the underbelly of Atlantic City. And it worked well with his profession—cage fighter and sometime bodyguard. Although, according to the four guys who knew him best, it was time he stopped using his face as a punching bag and got a new profession.
One of those four guys was the reason for Beast’s current visit to the Amazon rainforest—Joe Barone had married into a UK acting dynasty, and his new family had arranged a week-long wedding party to celebrate. Week-long. Beast shook his head at the thought. Where he came from, wedding receptions took place in an evening at the local bar.
“Is there anybody here who isn’t famous?” Noah Merchant, one of Beast’s four closest friends, leaned back against the bar, his eyes on the crowded dance floor. Noah was an Atlantic City cop who’d flown down with Beast. Neither of them had been able to take the full week off work to attend the entire event.
“Us.” Beast raised an eyebrow at the sight of two ageing Hollywood directors as they tried to line-dance. They were laughing hard while holding each other up. At least somebody was having fun.
“This is too weird,” Noah said. “I never thought Joe would marry into a bunch of celebrities. I thought he’d end up in jail.”
Beast chuckled his agreement. It was hard to get past the fame in Joe’s new family. His father-in-law was an Oscar-winning director, his mother-in-law a multiple-Oscar-winning actress, his brother-in-law was an action movie star, and his sister-in-law…
His eyes found Belinda Collins, yet again. She was magnetic and he was cheap-as-dirt tin. She pulled him to her, the same way she pulled the eyes of most every man in the room. And each and every one of them looked at her with a need to possess, something she seemed oblivious to as she danced with sensual abandon. The woman moved like smoke. Elusive. Sensual. Provocative. She was messing with his brain and making him sound like a weird fragrance commercial.
Noah caught the direction of Beast’s gaze and shook his head. “She’s not for the likes of us, Beasty-boy.”
There was no need to reply. An MMA fighter who lived in the underbelly of society and a Hollywood princess? Yeah. Wasn’t going to happen. Unless…she fancied slumming it. But then, even if she did, Beast wasn’t about to lower his standards to appease her curiosity about the rougher side of life. His life wasn’t a tourist destination. He’d spent enough time as a kid dealing with well-meaning outsiders who treated him like a curiosity, or worse, a charity case. As far as he was concerned, if the Hollywood princess wanted to see how the other half lived, she could look elsewhere. He wasn’t giving any tours.
“Doesn’t cost anything to look,” Beast said.
It was the mantra of his life. Plus, if a Hollywood actress wanted to put on a show, he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass up the chance to watch.
“Looking is all any of us can afford with this crowd. What the hell are we doing here?” Noah drew Beast’s attention away from Belinda’s long legs.
“Damned if I know.” If Joe had given a crap about their friendship, he’d have eloped and sent an email telling them after the fact. Hell, the ceremony hadn’t even taken place in Peru. That had been a tiny event in Scotland. Now, if Joe had stopped with that, Beast would have been more than happy.
“We’re here to support Joe,” Harvard said as he sipped his girly champagne. Out of the five childhood friends, Michael Carter, a.k.a. Harvard, was the only one who’d gone to college. Ironically, his big brain had earned him a full scholarship at MIT, but it had been too late by then to change his nickname. “And, hopefully, get laid.” He grinned. “I call dibs on Morticia.”
Their heads turned to watch the woman Harvard couldn’t take his eyes off, Rachel Ford-Talbot. She was mega-rich, related to British royalty, and an ice-cold bitch. She was also one of the owners of Benson Security, the firm Joe worked for and wanted his friends to join.
“She’ll freeze your balls off,” Beast warned.
“Yeah, but what a way to go.” Harvard grinned. He put his glass on the bar beside him and tugged at the cuffs of the white shirt where they poked out from the sleeves of his charcoal suit. He ran a hand over his shaven head and turned to them. “How do I look?”
“Black,” Noah said. “And I don’t think the princess does homeboys.”
“You know what they say about going black…” Harvard waggled his eyebrows at them. He was six feet six inches of pure muscle and genius brain, but he was also a horny black man with his eye on the prize. “Wish me luck. I’m going in.” And with that, he sauntered through the crowd and straight towards Rachel.
“Ten bucks says she eviscerates him within five minutes.” Noah reached for his wallet.
“When are you gonna learn that you never bet against Harvard?”
“Next time.”
“Fool.”
“You taking the bet or not?”
“Hell yeah, I’m taking your money.”
Beast shook his head. It was a miracle Noah had become a cop instead of the world’s worst gambler. And growing up in Atlantic City, the pressure was on to become the latter. Not for the first time, Beast thanked God that they’d all been roped into a church boxing group when they were teens. That group had saved all of them.
“Nice to see how the other half live,” Noah said as he surveyed the crowded ballroom. With its floor-to-ceiling windows and view across the Amazon, it was a far cry from Noah’s own wedding reception, which had been held at the local Irish bar. “Guess this is what happens when you have more money than sense. Do you know what Julia’s mother told me?”
Beast shook his head. A better question might have been whether he cared what she’d told him.
“That they chose Peru for the party because it had romantic significance for the couple—they fell in love here.” Noah shuddered at the thought.
Beast was in complete agreement. That was the kind of pink, girly crap that made a man want to find the nearest underground fight and let off some steam.
“Joe know she’s telling people that?” he said.
“Joe doesn’t give a crap. Look at him.”
The newlyweds, Joe and Julia, were slow dancing to a techno tune over in the corner by the bar. The place could have blown up and they wouldn’t have noticed.
“How the mighty fall,” Beast said, with a shake of his head. “What’d you get the happy couple for a wedding gift?” He put his empty glass on the bar behind him. He was done for the night.
“Dinner plates with the flag printed on them.”
“The American flag?”
Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Is there another one? What’d you get them?”
“Matching pistols.” Noah laughed hard, and Beast shrugged. “It was before I met Julia. I figured if she worked at a security company she had to like guns. Now I’ve met her, I realise I should have bought her a whiteboard.”
“She does like her lists.”
Joe had sent them photographic evidence that they were on several of Julia’s lists, which meant they had to turn up for the wedding. There had almost been a whiteboard meltdown when Beast made it clear he could only attend the last couple of days of the reception. Julia had been forced to write new lists, and Joe had not been pleased.
“What do you think Joe’s in-laws got them?” Noah pointed to the dance floor, w
here Julia’s famous family were holding centre stage. Each of her siblings were competing with each other, and their mother, for the spotlight. It was hard to believe they were related to the painfully shy bride.
“Gold-plated bathtub?”
Noah choked on his beer, and Beast thumped his back.
“That doesn’t help,” Noah said when he could breathe again.
They watched the dancing for a few minutes, and Beast found his eyes constantly straying to Belinda Collins. The actress was wearing a shimmering silver lace mini-dress that hugged her curves. She’d kicked off her shoes hours ago, and the silver toe ring on her left foot kept snagging his attention. Her hair was down, skimming her shoulders in a cut that probably cost the average person a year’s wages. But, he had to admit, just looking at those silky tresses made him think it was worth the money. And the way she moved brought on all sorts of visions involving satin skin on silk sheets.
“You gonna take the job?” Noah’s question snapped Beast’s attention back to his friend.
“Dunno. You?”
Noah looked down for a second. “Yeah. There’s nothing keeping me and the kids in Atlantic City now Therese is gone.”
Beast slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. Cancer had taken Noah’s wife two years earlier, leaving him with a broken heart, and two young boys to raise.
“London will take some getting used to,” Beast said, because he didn’t know how else to comfort his friend. “Don’t think there’s any baseball.”
“I’ll survive. Well, what do you know?” Noah pointed to the other side of the room. “Looks like I might win a bet for a change.”
Beast groaned at the sight of Harvard receiving a lecture from his crush and pulled a ten out of his wallet. “Guess this means Harvard will follow his dick and take the job too.”
“She’s an incentive, but he’s ready for a change. He’s done with the government. He wants a new life.”
They watched as Rachel slapped the big guy’s face and then strode away with her nose in the air. Harvard stared after her like a puppy watching his owner leave the house.
“Here’s hoping he lives long enough to enjoy it,” Beast said.
“It’d be good if we were all together again.” Noah used a suspiciously light tone that told Beast he was trying not to pressure him.
“I don’t know if I can follow orders, and Callum McKay sure likes to bark them at his team.” They looked over at one of the four owners of Benson Security. He was standing at the edge of the dance floor, feet apart, arms folded, glaring as his wife danced with a British actor. Every time Isobel caught his eye, she burst out laughing. But the actor was beginning to sweat under Callum’s threatening stare.
“I don’t think he realises he isn’t in the army anymore.” Noah took a sip of beer before casting Beast a sideways glance. “You’re going to think about it, though, right?”
“Told Joe I would. Although if that”—he pointed at Belinda’s bodyguards—“is the standard at Benson Security, I think I’ll take a pass.” The two men were too busy flirting with the wedding guests to pay any attention to their charge.
“They’re a different crew,” Noah said. “Julia’s trying to get her family to fire their teams and take on people from Benson Security.”
“They need firing.” Beast scanned the crowd and spotted Belinda staggering towards the exit, shoes in hand. “They haven’t even noticed their charge is leaving.”
Noah’s eyes swung to the movie star. “You head her off and I’ll go kick their asses. She can’t head out of here alone.”
Their five-star cabanas were dotted all over the large acreage of the resort. And although it was an isolated location, there was always a chance someone would want to get a little too close to a film star.
“No, she can’t.” Beast scowled at the thought. “Meet you in the lobby. Kick them hard.”
He took off at a jog, pushing his way through the partying crowd. One of the newer Benson Security team members was covering the door to the ballroom—overseeing the hotel’s security staff, and the private protection brought in by the celebrity guests.
“Belinda?” Beast called to the woman. She barely topped five feet and yet still managed to look deadly.
She glared at him, as though his one-word question was a criticism of her ability. “She’s meeting the third member of her team, the driver, at the main entrance. I have a hotel security officer escorting her there.” She was of Chinese heritage, with a thick Scottish accent did nothing to soften her angry demeanour. “Because the arseholes who should be watching her are nowhere to be found.”
“They’re busy hitting on women on the other side of the ballroom.”
She muttered some curse words that Beast didn’t catch.
“I’ll cover her until they get here,” Beast said. “Noah’s rounding them up.”
“Roger that. I’ll inform the team.” She pressed the bud in her ear and mumbled into her throat mike.
Beast didn’t wait; he jogged through the resort corridors, hoping he picked the fastest route to head Belinda off before she left the building. She was a celebrity, recognised the world over, and she should have known better than to go anywhere without her complete team—even if she was surrounded by family and friends. Just because you were familiar with people, didn’t mean you should trust them. Beast knew exactly how evil the people closest to you could be.
He ran down the stairs, skipping several at a time, and rushed into the lobby, just as Belinda went through the main doors and out into the night. The third member of her team, the driver, greeted her with a smile that was as fake as a two-dollar bill. Alarm bells blasted in Beast’s head. Every instinct he had told him something was wrong. He just didn’t know what it was—yet. His eyes scanned as he ran, looking for the threat. Adrenalin honed his skill and instinct until he noticed every detail surrounding the actress. But still he couldn’t spot the threat.
Belinda said something to her driver as she laughed and patted his chest. Clearly, she knew him and trusted him.
Beast didn’t.
The hotel security guard who’d escorted Belinda nodded to the driver—transferring his charge over to her team. The driver smiled as he opened the rear passenger door. With his other hand, he produced a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He was far too nervous for a man inside a secure compound. A man with a team at his back.
And then the threat became clear.
If Beast hadn’t been studying the scene so intently, he would have missed it. As Belinda climbed into the car, she slumped forward. The driver positioned himself behind her, blocking the passenger door from the main entrance. But he didn’t block all of it. Beast saw hands reach for Belinda. Hands that shouldn’t have been inside the car. In a matter of seconds, someone dragged the actress into the darkness of the vehicle.
They were kidnapping her.
A wave of adrenalin surged through Beast. With a roar, he barrelled through the doors and lunged at the driver. The man spun, his hand coming up to fend off the attack. Someone called from inside the car. Beast grabbed the driver’s jacket and tossed him out of the way. Something sharp slammed into his chest. He reeled back. There was a metal dart sticking out of him. A strong hand grasped his upper arm as his knees gave way.
His last thought, before the world went dark, was Son of a bitch drugged me.
Chapter 2
Belinda Collins woke to a terrifying realisation—she wasn’t in her hotel room. She knew this because her hotel would never have allowed the heat to gather in her room to the point where she felt like she was in a sauna with a sumo wrestler sitting on her chest. No, the exclusive resort on the edge of the Amazon rainforest was all about air conditioning, thousand-count sheets and beds that made you feel like you were sleeping on a cloud. And she definitely wasn’t lying on a cloud. It felt very much like she was lying on a carpet of Lego.
But worse than the heat and the lumps beneath her was the presence of a large body lyin
g beside her. The body was breathing, hopefully sleeping, and Belinda didn’t dare move or open her eyes until she remembered who that body belonged to. Which, considering the fog in her head and the throbbing pain in her temples, could take a very long time.
She vaguely remembered staggering out of her sister’s wedding reception, on the last night of a week filled with rainforest tours and poolside parties—all to celebrate Julia marrying Joe. Then she remembered heading for one of the cute little golf carts the hotel used to transport people around the resort. She remembered being disappointed that a SUV was waiting for her instead. She remembered her driver opening the door for her, ready to transport her to her cabana. And then…she remembered nothing at all. Nothing. Absolutely blank nothingness. She didn’t have a clue where she was, how she’d gotten here and even worse, who she was with.
This was bad. Really bad. As in international-news bad. This was worse than the time she’d gone skinny-dipping with the cast of her first movie and the paparazzi had plastered the photos of her very naked, and un-Photoshopped, backside over every tabloid in the world. It had been cellulite-ageddon. And now, here she was in trouble again. How could this have happened? She was so careful now. She was past the getting drunk and blacking out stage of her life. She was mature—okay, mature-er. She was a serious actress. An Oscar nominee, for goodness’ sake. She was also very much stuffed.
“You might as well open your eyes. I know you’re awake.”
Belinda’s eyes popped open at the sound of the deep American accent. She blinked against light that felt like ice picks stabbing into her brain and waited as a face came into focus. She frowned. She knew that face. It was attached to the most masculine man she’d ever seen, and she vaguely remembered he was some sort of fighter…
“MMA! Cage fighting,” she said with a smile, making him frown.
Wow, she hadn’t seen a man pull off a look that brooding since Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire. It shot his looks from unconventional straight into panty-melting. And she had to admit, she’d been rather partial to his looks before he went all broody on her.
Ransom (Benson Security Book 4) Page 1