Guarding His Fake Family

by Knight, Katie

  “Wait! Please. Alisha’s in trouble. Bad trouble. She’s been kidnapped and they might kill her if I can’t figure out where she is. Please, just answer my questions and you could save her life. I won’t give your name or number to anyone. I’ll keep you out of it all, I promise. Just please. Help me.”

  The guy hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know who the Andronettos are working for.”

  Another sigh, then, “Look, I don’t know any of this for sure, okay?” the guy said, his voice hushed. “But I heard things, working the bar at The Stagecoach. They told me stuff about their boss, someone named Ludgate. And this guy, he had Hendrix and Milo mixed up in stuff much bigger than forged art. They were in over their heads, if you ask me. I don’t know what exactly, but they were nervous about it. They used to talk about meeting that guy, Ludgate, at one of the piers downtown. The one they ran their imports in and out of.”

  Simon jotted down the address with a shaky hand, then ended the call, thanking the guy again.

  Afterward, he just stood there a second connecting the dots in his head. That had to be where they were holding Alisha. He walked over to where Rick stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “Call your brother-in-law and pull in anyone who can be trusted on the force. Tell them to meet me down at this pier.” He rattled off the address as he headed out the door. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Alisha lost track of how long she sat there, waiting. She was pretty sure Ludgate and his thugs were drawing things out on purpose, just to watch her squirm. Her ass ached and her hands were numb and if she didn’t get to a bathroom soon her bladder felt like it was going to burst. But overriding all that discomfort was the ever-increasing anxiety about what was going to happen to her.

  The fact that they were discussing their plans right in front of her like she wasn’t there—or like they didn’t expect her to be around long enough to tell anyone—only made it all seem worse.

  Even so, she did her best to remember as many details as possible. A journalist through and through, committing it all to memory for a future story she might or might not get the chance to write gave her some sense of normalcy and helped her stay calm in the face of this horrible storm.

  No. She would get out of this. She would write her story. She wasn’t through yet.

  Please don’t let me go out like this. Please let Simon come soon.

  After repeating her silent prayer for the hundredth time, she lowered her head and listened to her abductors’ discussion across from her while continuing to rub the ropes binding her wrists against the sharp edge of the chair back. Whether or not it was doing any good at weakening the ropes she couldn’t say, but at least it made her feel like she was doing something. She kept the movements small so her captors wouldn’t notice.

  “Is the other cargo ready to transport?” Ludgate asked one of the thugs standing beside him.

  “Yes, sir,” he answered, shuffling his feet. From the way the two goons kept fidgeting, Alisha could tell they were antsy. Good. About time someone besides her felt off-kilter in this situation. “The cargo is secured and prepared for boarding.”

  Cargo? She guessed that the cargo these men were speaking about were more women like her. Taken from their lives to be sold to the highest bidder. To be involved in the human trafficking process yourself—from the most dangerous side—was terrifying.

  She rubbed the ropes against the edge of the chair a little faster and harder.

  A fourth man Alisha hadn’t seen before walked into the warehouse and over to Ludgate, bending to whisper something into his ear. She couldn’t hear what was said, but the way Ludgate’s black gaze slid her way and his creepy grin told her it wasn’t good. Her pulse jumped and her stomach dropped.

  “Good news, Ms. Lewis,” Ludgate said, rising and walking over to stand in front of her. He was tall and thin, reminding her of a wily weasel. “Your wait is over. The ship has been loaded and is ready to depart. The only cargo left to load is you.”

  “Like hell,” she growled, baring her teeth at him. If she was able, she would have punched that smug look right off his face, but all she could do at the moment was kick out at him with her legs. He easily sidestepped her feet and made a scolding tsk-tsk noise before waving his thugs over again. “Drug her before putting her in the hold. We don’t want her causing a fuss and riling up the others.”

  Drugs? No. No, no, no. no. She rarely even took aspirin, let alone anything stronger, especially since the pregnancy. The baby. Oh God. The baby. Anything in her system would affect her unborn child too.

  Heart hammering in her chest, she sawed the ropes against the chair harder, not caring if they saw her now. The thugs walked over and jerked her arms hard, yanking her up onto her numb feet. She stumbled, pins and needles prickling painfully through her lower extremities as her nerve endings slowly awakened. She barely noticed any of that, her concentration locked on the syringe one of the thugs held. The other thug had a hold of Alisha’s arm, hard enough to leave bruises. She struggled, tried her hardest to wrench free, but he was too strong. Meanwhile, Ludgate stood by on his cell phone, talking on it quietly, looking supremely bored with the whole scene.

  The guy with the syringe stepped toward Alisha.

  “Hey, please. I don’t need any drugs. I’ll be good, I promise,” she said, wiggling to make it more difficult for the guy with the needle to roll up her sleeve. “Seriously. I won’t do anything. Please. Don’t give me anything. Please! I can’t take drugs.”

  She didn’t want them to know about the baby, but if it saved her child from peril, she’d do what she had to do.

  Thug two wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her steady while thug one tied a rubber tourniquet around her upper arm and then tapped a finger over her inner elbow, searching for a vein. At her words, he looked up at her and raised a brow. “Don’t worry. Once this goes in, you won’t care what we do to you.”

  He held her arm with one hand and brought the syringe down with the other, his eyes trained on the vein now bulging beneath her skin.

  “No!” she yelled. It was clear now there’d be no knight in shining armour for her. No Simon sweeping in like a superhero to save her and the day. If she was going to get out of this, she needed to do it herself. Seattle was a busy port. There had to be someone else out there. Even if there wasn’t, she still screamed and kicked as loud and hard as she could. “Help me! Somebody! Anybody! Help!” With thug two holding her tightly, she was free to kick out her legs, slamming Syringe Guy right in the thigh, forcing him to stumble back before he could inject her.

  At that same moment, a loud bang sounded from somewhere behind her and all three men swivelled fast in that direction. Alisha took advantage of the distraction, shoving hard against her captor and stumbling free as his hold broke. She didn’t stop to look behind her, just kept moving toward the square box of light from the doorway in front of her. If Ludgate and his men got hold of her again, there was no doubt in her mind they’d kill her.

  Muffled voices and the sounds of a fight echoed through the cavernous warehouse as she stumbled toward the exit, aware only of her thundering pulse, the rush of blood in her head, the cool breeze of freedom so tantalizingly close, and yet still so damned far away.

  Once she got out of here, she was going to do things differently. She was going to tell Simon she loved him. She was going to find a way to balance her work with the new life that was waiting for her once the baby was born. She was going to…

  “Alisha!” a voice shouted from behind her. An achingly familiar voice. Simon.

  He’d come for her after all. Her very own knight in shining armour.

  She turned in time to see him perform an impressive roundhouse kick to one of the thugs’ heads, sending the guy to his knees before he face-planted unceremoniously on the floor. The rush of victory inside her was short-lived, however, as another thug, the fourth gu
y who’d entered earlier, took her arm and started dragging her away.

  “Time to go,” he said, grunting as she tried to dig her bare heels into the cold cement floor. “Move your ass, lady. Ship’s sailing.”

  “Fuck you!” she said, pulling against him and spitting in his face for good measure.

  The bastard hauled off and smacked her hard across the face, making her head spin as he bent and picked her up over his shoulder to cart her away like a sack of potatoes. Positioned as she was, she couldn’t see where the guy was taking her, could only gaze at the fight between Simon and Rick and the thugs. But where was Ludgate?

  Peering frantically through the shadows, she spotted him. Off to the side, the grey of his suit contrasting with the darkness. He was raising his arm, light from the doorway reflecting off the metal barrel of a gun…aimed right at Simon’s back.

  Oh God!

  “Simon!” She screamed. “Look out! He’s behind you! He’s going to—”

  Bang!

  Ludgate fired and all hell broke loose. Through the cacophony of noise and violence, Alisha strained to see what had happened, if Simon was okay.

  Please God. Please let him be okay.

  “Stop right there! Hands up!” a new voice said, this time from behind Alisha. The thug toting her over his shoulder halted abruptly, nearly dropping her on her head. “Put the lady down. Now!”

  Slowly, Alisha slid down the thug’s front until her feet touched the chilly cement once more. She straightened and winced, then peered through her braids at the cops now filling the doorway.

  Behind her, more cops flooded into the warehouse, putting a quick end to the struggle. Her knees wobbled from a mix of relief, adrenaline, and exhaustion, but she remained upright through sheer force of will.

  Simon. She needed to make sure Simon was okay.

  “Alisha?” he called out, just as she turned to look for him. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

  Then she was in his arms and she finally let go, nodding and crying and sagging against him, letting him take her burden until she was strong enough to hold it herself again, because that was what couples did. When she finally caught her breath, and felt steady on her feet, Alisha pulled back slightly, still staying near to his warmth. Maybe it was the shock or the discomfort of standing on cold concrete in bare feet, but she was chilled to the bone and couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

  Simon gestured to one of the cops nearby, who brought over a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. He gathered it around her and held the ends, tugging her back to his chest. There was a small cut over his eyebrow and his knuckles were grazed and bruised from the fight, but other than that, he seemed unharmed. She’d never seen a more gorgeous sight in all her life.

  Love swelled inside her and Alisha opened her mouth to tell him, but all that came out was, “About time you got here.”

  * * *

  Simon blinked at her a moment, taking in her lovely face, reassuring himself she was okay, before letting her words sink in. When they did, he laughed. So typically Alisha. Always putting up a strong front, always independent. But instead of pushing him away, it only made him want to be there for her more than ever, in whatever way she’d allow.

  He leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow, then pulled back, smiling. “I love you too.”

  Her expression blanked and her eyes widened. “You love me?”

  “Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “Go figure.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You’re lucky my hands are still tied or I’d punch you right now.”

  Grinning, he kissed her again, then pulled out his pocketknife. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  While he moved the blanket aside to cut through the ropes around her wrists, Simon glanced around the area to make sure the cops had everything under control. Rick was assisting them, rounding up the thugs and pushing them outside to the waiting squad cars. Near Simon’s feet was a broken syringe and his heart dropped. “Did they give you anything? What about the baby?”

  “No, I managed to stop them,” Alisha said, moving away once she was free to rub her sore, abraded wrists. He’d have to make sure they stopped by the ambulance waiting outside so they could put some salve on those for her so they didn’t get infected. “There are other women, Simon.” She said. “Ludgate said they were shipping them out tonight.”

  “Yep. The cops raided the ship and have them all in custody.” He gestured to a cop who gathered up the syringe, putting it in an evidence bag. “They’ll be reunited with their families as soon as law enforcement gets them all identified.”

  “Good.” Alisha looked back to where the cops were handcuffing Ludgate. “He doesn’t look like the human trafficking type, does he? Just goes to show you never can tell.”

  They watched as the cops hauled Ludgate away. The man was spluttering and whining about his attorney, claiming that he’d see to it that everyone involved in the raid was fired. The cops seemed to be largely ignoring him. Not a single one of them seemed impressed or even slightly worried. After all, they’d found Ludgate’s ship loaded full of captured women. There was no chance on earth that that man was going to breathe free air again.

  Just before they closed the door on the squad car, Simon yelled, “Have fun in prison!”

  Ludgate gave him the facial equivalent of a middle finger through the window as the police drove away.

  Once that final threat to Alisha’s safety was taken away, Simon was finally able to relax his guard a bit. He walked Alisha over to the ambulance so the EMTs could check her out. The medics were looking over the recently released women from the cargo ship as well, but while most of them seemed scared and some of them seemed drugged, Alisha was the only one who was injured, which got her bumped to the head of the line. He couldn’t help hovering over her, feeling anxious that something might be wrong that he hadn’t noticed. At least until he saw Alisha turn to him and smile—then there was nothing but warmth and light and funny sort of buzzing in his gut that he could only describe as happiness.

  “Everything okay?” he asked the EMT who was bandaging up Alisha’s wrists. Simon couldn’t seem to stop touching her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I hope so.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Alisha said, resting her head against his chest. “Stop fussing.”

  If she hadn’t been snuggling into him, he might have taken her words more seriously. As it was, he just wrapped his arms around her more tightly. “Can’t. Sorry.” When the paramedic nodded to signal that he was done, Simon guided Alisha away, finding a relatively secluded corner so they could have a moment of privacy together. He kissed the top of Alisha’s head, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo. “I was so scared when they took you. All I could think about was you and the baby and hoping you were okay.”

  In a rare show of weakness, Alisha nodded, clutching his T-shirt with her hand, keeping him close. “Me too. The whole time they held me here, I just kept thinking about you and praying you’d find me.”

  They stood there for a while, just holding each other, until most of the police officers had cleared the scene and the CSI team moved in to process the evidence. Rick left too, saying he needed to get home for something. Simon had thanked him, but his focus was completely on Alisha.

  “I’m sorry,” he said into her hair.

  She looked up at him, frowning. “For what?”

  “For not believing you, for not trusting your gut when you said there was more to this case than the auction house and the Andronettos. You were right, and I was wrong. If you’d let this story drop like I wanted you to, Ludgate would have gotten away with it. All of those women would have been gone forever—no one else would have put the pieces together in time to stop the boat. You saved them.”

  “And you saved me,” she replied. “It all worked out.” She shook her head. “I’m just glad you found me.”

  “It’s not all right, though.” He pulled back and cupped her cheeks. “I should know by now to trust your gut.
I won’t make that mistake again, I promise. I’ll have faith in you next time.”

  Alisha clasped his wrists, staring up into his eyes. “Okay. And I’ll have faith in you too.”

  They kissed again, long and slow and deep, before walking back toward the exit, arms looped around one another’s waists.

  “So,” Alisha said, once they were out of the warehouse and headed over to Simon’s car. “How did you find me?”

  “It was no easy feat. First, I went to the Stagecoach to talk to Hendrix and Milo, who were no help at all, except for them suggesting I look at what you were working on. So I called your editor and talked him into letting me see your files.”

  “You’re kidding!” Alisha laughed. “But how was Bob able to give you my passwords? He doesn’t know them.”

  “He does now—because he reset them. Next time you log in, remember that your password is now Newsroom1.” Simon winked. “But don’t be too hard on him. I told him it was life or death.”

  “Oh, I’m going to be hard on him all right. That kind of thing should at least get me a raise.”

  Simon shook his head, pushing the button on his key fob to unlock the car doors. “Anyway, I found the name of your source and called him. When I told him you’d been kidnapped, he told me everything because obviously he knows how awesome you are.”

  “Yeah, right.” She slid into the passenger seat, chuckling. “He’d sell his own grandmother down the river if he thought his butt was on the line. But I’m glad you got him to talk. And that you got to me in time.”

  “Me too.” He started the car, then just sat there, the adrenaline from earlier burning off to leave exhaustion behind. “Seriously. Your work was excellent on this story. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to get to you in time. You basically had it all figured out, just a few details were missing.”

  She shrugged, leaning her head against the window beside her, looking as drained as he felt. “You do realize you’re saying I’m good at my job, right?”