“Where’s your cell phone?” she suddenly demanded but didn’t wait for a reply. “You called them, didn’t you?”
He stared at her with a strange look, lacking reaction to her outburst. “Jackie--” he said softly then allowed his eyes to signal something not far to her right.
She looked to the alcove near the door leading beneath the house. A man in his early twenties, Sal, had a gun aimed at her. She recognized it as Holden’s gun. Her expression immediately dropped.
“Oh--”
Another man also in his early twenties, Wes, and a woman about the same age, Mandy, appeared in the doorway just behind Sal. Mandy smiled, approached Jackie, and removed the revolver from the back of her pants. All three were little more than street thugs taking advantage of the approaching hurricane to loot wealthy homes. Both young men had visible tattoos, body piercings, and low-slung trousers. Mandy resembled a Goth prostitute in her short skirt, black fishnet stockings, and platform high heels. Her lip, eyebrow, and nose piercings added to the drama of her persona.
“Just take what you want. We have enough to worry about with the storm,” Holden announced firmly, although remaining non-confrontational.
“Don’t worry; we will,” Mandy replied and giggled with delight. She flipped Holden’s badge open with all seriousness. “FBI--you’re under arrest.”
It was obvious to Jackie that the trio of young thugs were slightly unbalanced and therefore unpredictable. Considering the fact that they were now armed made for a more frightening situation. Any sudden movements could get both of them killed.
Wes dangled Holden’s handcuffs while wearing a cheap grin that conveyed his lack of empathy for human life. “Imagine what we can do with these.” He then smiled lustfully at Jackie. “Wanna play good cop bad cop?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Sal snapped with annoyance to his friend’s lack of maturity and slapped him on the back of the head. “Cuff them to the counter. We have a house to pillage.”
With both sets of handcuffs, Mandy cuffed each of their left wrists to the island counter post, which was cemented into the floor, then hurried from the kitchen. Wes winked at Jackie as he walked away. Holden glared at the young thug as he left. Jackie sneered her annoyance at Holden.
“Some FBI agent,” Jackie suddenly snapped. “You let three punks get the drop on you?”
He seemed surprised by her outburst directed at him. “I didn’t see you going Bruce Lee on anyone’s ass,” he snapped back. “What’s your excuse?”
“Oh, so I’m in charge of the ass kicking department? Nice to know,” she lashed out. “What happened to all that macho male dominance from last night?”
He obviously wasn’t in the mood after being disarmed by three thugs. “Hey, I was shot and pistol whipped last night. I’m still not seeing straight,” Holden launched back. “What’s wrong with you picking up some slack?”
Jackie gave him a stunned look to the comment. She couldn’t believe his nerve. “I’ve been picking up your slack from the first day I’d met you!”
Mandy popped into the kitchen and glared at them. “Excuse me. Can you save the domestic dispute for the marriage counselor?”
“Us--married? That’d be a cold day in hell,” Jackie snarled while looking away.
“You certainly act like you’re married. Just keep it down,” Mandy announced almost sweetly. “You’re taking the fun out of our home invasion party.”
Mandy disappeared to join her friends. Both collected themselves and attempted to remain calm. Holden eyed the wooden post with which they were both cuffed then gave Jackie a curious look.
“Can you break the post?” Holden asked softly.
“They’ll hear it.”
“What if I created a diversion?”
Her look conveyed her concern. “What sort of diversion? They have our weapons.”
“Relax, I know how to be subtle,” he replied then cleared his throat and spoke louder than necessary. “It’s all your fault. We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t--”
Jackie gave the post a firm kick. It cracked coinciding with his low, harsh words.
“--for that idiot friend of yours. Where the hell--”
Jackie again kicked the post with a little more vigor. It cracked but still didn’t give.
“--did you find that guy!”
Jackie applied a little more force behind her third kick. The post splintered and broke. Both slipped their cuffs off the broken post. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, alerting both. They didn’t have time to plan a surprise attack. Jackie and Holden moved closer together in front of the broken post with their backs to the counter, giving the appearance of still being cuffed to the post. The three street thugs entered the kitchen, each carrying a bag full of Monroe’s possessions. Wes dropped his bag, smiled deviously, and approached Jackie with the handcuff keys.
“Time for you and me to have our own little party,” Wes said while dangling the handcuff keys in front of her.
Jackie suddenly snapped kicked Wes in the groin and elevated him off the floor. She’d struck him so fast and hard, he never saw it coming. He hit the floor before he even had the chance to clutch himself in agony. Mandy and Sal gasped as they watched their friend hit the floor. After the initial shock, Sal became enraged and aimed his gun at Jackie. Holden knocked the gun from Sal’s hand and punched him in the face. Jackie leaped for the discarded gun. Mandy kicked it away just before she reached it and aimed the revolver at Jackie’s head.
“Don’t make me shoot your girlfriend!” Mandy cried out to Holden.
Holden saw the gun aimed at Jackie’s head, frowned, and released Sal’s shirt. Sal jumped away from him looking more like a frightened kid than a tough street thug.
“What do we do with them?” Sal asked with concern while eyeing their friend, who still writhed around the floor in agony. Wes wasn’t going to walk right for days.
“I know where we can put them,” Mandy replied with giddy delight.
Chapter Thirty
Rickety steps from the kitchen led beneath the house, which was a large, empty dirt pad containing the massive stilts with which the house sat. Decorative skirting enclosed the home’s stilts for greater curbside appeal. Jackie and Holden bickered while walking down the creaking steps with Mandy and Sal behind them.
“My God! You two are annoying!” Mandy finally proclaimed, having had enough of their arguing.
There was nothing to see beneath the house beyond the stilts holding it up off the sandy dirt. A network of pipes and drains lined the ceiling. Monroe had a few beach items scattered about, which included a surfboard, a deflated, inflatable raft, and an old jet ski, which had been torn apart. Parts for the jet ski lie scattered about on a heavy, plastic rolling cart. Sal indicated the piping along the support stilt and ceiling. The ground was already wet from the storm and the rising surf.
“They’ll never break that,” Sal said.
“I have the perfect punishment for these two lovebirds,” Mandy announced with enthusiasm.
Mandy handcuffed Jackie’s wrists over the ceiling pipe, which also ran down the support stilt. She was positioned with her back to the sturdy stilt with her cuffed wrists above her, almost extending her arms straight up. Mandy grinned at Holden and motioned with Jackie’s revolver.
“Now give your girlfriend a big hug around the waist,” she teased.
Sal grinned and motioned with Holden’s gun as well. Holden frowned and placed his arms around Jackie’s waist while facing her. Mandy cuffed his wrists around the pipe against the support stilt behind Jackie. Holden could only move his arms up and down a few inches before hitting connectors holding the pipe to the stilt. Jackie and Holden glared at each other while only inches apart. Mandy appeared pleased and smiled mockingly.
“Now you two kiss and make up,” Mandy teased.
Mandy dropped the keys on the plastic cart ten feet away from them. Both laughed and headed up the stairs.
“Well,” Jackie huffed while
staring into Holden’s eyes only inches from hers. “This sucks.”
Holden pulled on his handcuffs behind Jackie’s back, frowned, and then looked above him where she was cuffed to the pipe along the ceiling.
“I can’t move at all,” he informed her with disgust. “You have only a foot or two forward and backward before hitting the connecting pipes.”
“We’ll just have to wait for Monroe to return. It’s only--” Jackie groaned lowly, “--four or five hours.”
Holden looked at the dirt floor with water now collecting on it in small puddles.
“That hurricane is going to hit us head on long before Monroe gets back,” Holden remarked. “There was a mandatory evacuation of the entire Eastern half of the island. This area will be flooded in an hour or two.”
His news was the last thing she wanted to hear. She glared at him with distaste. “I’m developing a healthy dislike for you all over again.”
“We can beat the crap out of each other later. Is there anything behind me that you can reach with your feet?”
Jackie leaned over his shoulder to look behind him, hesitated, and smelled him. She pulled back and looked at him with surprise. “Are you wearing Monroe’s cologne?”
“Jackie--”
“No, there’s nothing behind you,” she muttered. “Do you have your cell phone?”
“No, your friend confiscated it,” he remarked. “I thought it was in your bag with my holster, but it wasn’t there.”
She was a little surprised to hear him say that. She had been sure he found both their cell phones, but perhaps the disappearing cell phones was Monroe’s insurance policy when she decided to bring home the stray federal agent.
“Do you have anything in your pockets?” she finally asked with a defeated groan.
“I have a pocketknife in my pants pocket, but it won’t do us any good. Neither of us can reach it.”
She rolled her eyes and groaned softly. “No imagination, Agent Falcone.”
Jackie wiggled her right foot out of her shoe. She was suddenly aware that the water was now ankle deep. The water was rising rapidly with the storm and possibly high tide as well. There was no time to waste thinking about their situation. She needed to work on a solution and remain productive. Jackie grabbed onto the pipe above her for balance, raised her foot to Holden’s leg despite their closeness, and ran her toes along the outside of his pocket. She felt around for the pocketknife with her foot. Holden took a deep breath and tensed.
“Found it,” she announced with relief. She worked her toes along his pants with determination. “Now I just have to work it out of your pocket.”
“Jackie,” he announced gently while clearing his throat, “that’s not the pocketknife.”
She met his stare and immediately wished she hadn’t. His look was serious, but he was possibly blushing as much as she was.
“Okay then--”
Jackie moved her foot over a little further, found the actual pocketknife this time with her probing toes, and inched it up his pocket from the outside. It slipped back down. She cursed under her breath then looked at the collecting water on the floor. It was starting to spill in over her shoe on her other foot.
“This could take a while,” she said while attempting to sound calm.
“Yeah, sure. No pressure,” he muttered while attempting to hide his concern for their deteriorating situation. There was an awkward moment of silence before Holden finally spoke. “So what’s the deal with Monroe?”
Jackie became immediately hostile by the question and glared her disapproval at him. “I’m not going to let you interrogate me about my friends.”
“I already know about your father’s team,” he informed her. “I’m just passing time.”
She was silent a moment and considered his comment then continued on her pocketknife quest. “Okay, I’ll play along. What about Monroe?”
“You two seem rather close.”
Jackie slid the knife within his pocket with her toes but kept losing it when it reached his pocket opening. “Probably because we are close,” she casually informed him while keeping her eyes on her work. “I had a major crush on him when I was eight. Around the time I turned sixteen, Monroe started paying a lot of attention to me. When I graduated high school and was ready to go off to college, it was only natural that I wanted him to educate me before I went away.”
Holden suddenly appeared tense and a little surprised by the comment. He stared at her even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Are you saying he actually slept with his commander’s eighteen-year-old, virgin daughter?”
She suddenly looked up and met his gaze with a dumbfounded expression. “He was a young, horny Navy man. What do you think?”
He shook his head in silent disbelief. “Did your father ever find out?”
Jackie returned to fishing for his pocketknife and sighed deeply. “Unfortunately,” she replied. “Monroe became obsessive and wanted me to be his girl in port. When my father found out, he beat the crap out of him.”
“So you sold out the poor bastard just because he wanted a relationship?”
She again looked at him and stared with her mouth hanging open. “Are you kidding? I’d never tell my father something like that,” she gasped then turned serious. “Monroe made him suspicious. When my father confronted me, I tried to deny it, but you couldn’t lie to the commander.” She shook her head with disbelief. “My father actually grounded me for a month.”
“He grounded you? Seriously?” he asked. “I thought you were in college.”
She looked back at him with some confusion. She laughed and shook her head. “No, he grounded me. He took away my flying privileges. Longest month of my life,” she huffed and returned to working on the knife in his pocket. “Swore me off men for nearly a year.”
“I assume it was over with Monroe after that,” he remarked.
“As far as I was concerned, we were only ever friends,” she announced simply. “That’s why I chose him for my first time. Everyone kept saying a woman’s first time should be with someone special. Well, Monroe was very knowledgeable when it came to sex, or so he bragged on many occasions. Seemed like he’d make a good teacher.”
Holden was awkwardly silent a moment then finally spoke. “You’re not exactly inhibited about things of a sexual nature, are you?”
She glanced at him, noted the color in his cheeks, and hid her smile. “I think it’s cute that I can make you blush.” She returned to working on her assignment then muttered, “You wouldn’t last a day with my father’s team.”
“I’ll admit; I’m a bit reserved,” he replied.
She smiled but didn’t bother looking up at him. “Yeah, you’re a bit reserved,” she teased.
The water rose at an accelerated pace, startling both. The hurricane had to be intensifying outside. The water was now up to their calves, rising faster than either had anticipated. Holden eyed the water and appeared uncomfortable.
“How’s that pickpocket thing coming?”
“Slow,” she muttered while attempting to ignore the height of the quickly rising water.
Jackie gripped the pipe above her for better stability. There was a loud creak followed by a metallic clang. She looked up with surprise. The pipe had broken at a soldered joint before the connecting pipe just beyond Holden’s head. Holden looked up and saw the break as well.
“The pipe broke,” Holden announced with renewed enthusiasm then looked at her. “Can you slip the handcuff chain through the opening?”
Jackie held onto the pipe and allowed her body to sink, using her weight to pull down on it. The pipe creaked again, leaving a half-inch gap.
“I can now,” she announced while grinning. “It’s behind your head. I won’t be able to reach it without getting up and underneath it. Can you bend your knee?”
Holden did as she requested. Jackie placed her wet foot onto his thigh and attempted to pull herself up with use of her hands on the pipe. Her wet foot slipped off his t
high, and her back struck the pipe attached to the stilt behind her. She grimaced from the pain shooting through her back from the hard hit. Jackie took a deep breath, considered her options, and looked into Holden’s eyes.
“Okay, plan B,” she announced firmly. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“What--?”
Jackie grabbed onto the pipe with both hands, pulled herself up, and threw her legs around Holden’s waist, locking them at the ankles behind him. Holden appeared slightly startled by the compromising position. Or was it how easily she got there?
“Okay, not taking it the wrong way,” he gasped softly.
“Now help me balance.”
“Balance? How?”
She suddenly glared down at him. “Grab a handful of ass, Agent Falcone! Come on, work with me here!”
Holden pinned Jackie between his body and the pipe behind her and held onto her buttocks, supporting her weight. Jackie moved her hands along the pipe over top of him toward the break. She continued to lean forward to reach the break, pressing her exposed cleavage into his face.
Holden suddenly tensed as his face became buried in her chest above her tank top. “Uh, how’s it going up there?” he asked in a muffled voice.
“It’d be going a lot better if you weren’t breathing down my shirt.”
“Sorry, I’ll try not to breathe.”
Jackie had the handcuff chain against the break, but she needed just a little more forward momentum. “I’m going to let go of the pipe, so the chain will slip through. Hang onto me.”
“Won’t be a problem,” he muttered into her breasts.
Jackie released the pipe. The chain roughly slipped through the break, causing her to lose her balance momentarily. She caught onto Holden’s shoulders to keep from falling. She laughed with enthusiasm and pulled her chest away from his face. He stared into her cleavage almost mesmerized.
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