His For Five Nights

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His For Five Nights Page 3

by Jeannette Winters


  Alex couldn’t help but think back to the look on Ziva’s face. She pretended she hadn’t known his name, but he saw it in her eyes. Pure disdain. He understood why. James had given these people reason to hate him. Bennett spent hours updating Alex on everything he’d learned to date. Alex thought it couldn’t get worse, but it did.

  At one point, Alex had contemplated having the pilot turn the jet around, and flying back to Boston. Not because he was a coward. If anything, each new fact fueled his drive to move forward. He felt worse for one brother more than the others. Logan’s mom had died birthing him. Bennett had reminded him of the big picture. It wasn’t just one woman or one mother. The purpose of the expedition was to stop the evil still taking place in Tabiq. It was bad enough thinking it was only his father abusing the women of Tabiq, but this was much worse than he imagined. Knowing it was still happening today, outraged him. Even if he stopped it all, the families affected deserved some reparation.

  Although it made him sick, he needed to keep that in mind. Anyone who approached him could potentially be involved in the human trafficking ring. The policy of innocent until proven guilty wasn’t going to fly. From what they knew, the level of corruption was so deep it wouldn’t break easily.

  This area wasn’t the first place he’d been that was evil and corrupt, but it sure as hell was the worst. Typically, he took time to seek decent people and befriend them. There was no time for that now. He needed to keep his distance from the locals, getting deeper involved than he already was would only hinder his efforts.

  His mind wandered back to the intriguing woman he met yesterday. Ziva might have thought she was stealthy, but he’d picked up on her tail in that ratty old pickup truck at the airport. She had surprised him when she’d decided to follow him inside the hotel and had practically thrown herself at him. He wasn’t foolish enough to trust her, but he didn’t take her as a real threat either. I hope that’s not a mistake.

  It wouldn’t be the first tale of a man being taken down by a stunning woman. And that she was. He’d lain awake last night, haunted by thoughts of her. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d been instantly drawn to her. There was nothing about her he’d ordinarily find attractive. His preferred taste had always been blonde hair, and her hair was so dark it was almost black, reminding him of starling wings. The women he dated were tall with large breasts, not always real, but large nonetheless. Ziva was at least eight inches shorter than he was, and her small breasts matched her petite frame. Yet she had stood in front of him with such confidence he found it sexy as hell.

  Logically he knew he should’ve let the manager throw her out on her ass. Instead, he handed over the key that was supposed to be for whoever they were going to bring him. Now he had no place for the other woman except in his room. It’ll look more the part, but damn, I don’t like this. Not one bit.

  The air conditioner made a constant hum, drowning the outside noise. It also was impossible for him to hear if Ziva had taken him up on his offer and utilized the room. The taxi driver had informed him this was one of the best places in town because it had air conditioning. With the sweltering heat, he couldn’t imagine she’d refused. Even if she didn’t like him, a few days of relief from this one-hundred-five-degree temperature would appeal to anyone. And it gives her the opportunity to keep a close eye on me.

  Alex pictured what Bennett would say if he knew what he’d done. When they parted ways, Bennett made it clear that under no circumstances should he deviate from the plan. Alex hadn’t finished checking in, and their plan had already gone to hell. Guess that’s because I don’t answer to Bennett. Haven’t answered to anyone in a very long time.

  He heard the SAT phone that Bennett gave him ring, no need to check the caller ID.

  “What’s up?”

  “Have they delivered her yet?”

  Alex would like to correct Bennett, but his terminology was right. The girl wasn’t coming on her own accord. “No.”

  “When do you expect her?”

  “I was interrupted when speaking to the manager.”

  “What does that mean?” Bennett asked.

  “Simple. We didn’t finish the conversation.” Alex saw no reason to go into details.

  “Unless you enjoy baking in this god-awful heat, I suggest you handle that now,” Bennett said, sounding aggravated.

  “Heat’s not bothering me one bit,” Alex said, leaning back on the couch and smiling. He knew it was wrong, but he took pleasure knowing Bennett’s accommodation didn’t have AC.

  “Good, then you wouldn’t mind meeting me. You have what I need.”

  Alex knew exactly what that meant. He was looking for the duffel bag with an assortment of guns and ammunition in the closet. They anticipated Alex’s room would be searched; it was best to get the bag out of there quickly.

  “How do you plan on pulling this off? I’m unable to move without eyes on me.”

  There was a pause then Bennett answered, “I met a taxi driver the last time I was here. Once he helped us, we had to get him and his family out of the country. Finding someone willing to risk it all is nearly impossible.”

  Ziva. Alex was shocked she was his first thought. For all he knew she’d rat them out for the right price. If that happened, Bennett was right: neither of them would make it back to Boston. At least, not alive.

  “How good are you at picking locks?”

  Bennett snorted. “I’m not a burglar.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “I didn’t say that. What do you need?”

  “Wait until dark. I’ll let you know when I go out. Whoever is watching me most likely will follow. I’ll give you thirty minutes to get in and out.”

  “Roger.”

  Normally, he would’ve thought the guy was just a cocky bastard, but Alex had heard plenty about Bennett’s skills. There wasn’t much he couldn’t do. Since arriving in Tabiq, he’d corrected his stance. Bennett had been right. This wasn’t a place to come alone. At least, not if you’re one of the good guys.

  Ziva couldn’t believe the only thing separating her and Alex was an adjoining door. She purposely stayed quiet, so he didn’t know she was there. It was hard because the man didn’t seem to sleep. She’d pressed her ear against the door at all different hours, and each time he seemed to be pacing.

  He may not need sleep, but I do. Her eyes were burning from exhaustion, yet she knew if she closed them, that would be the time he left his room. She needed to get inside his room and search for proof of why he was there. Not that I need it. He’s a Henderson. We all know why he’s here.

  She was just about to lie down on the bed when she heard something like a door closing in the hallway. Ziva dashed to the door and wished there was a peephole so she could see. Pressing her ear to the door, she heard footsteps, but they stopped right outside her door. She held her breath, not that he could hear, and waited. Was he going to knock? Did he have a key and was about to come in?

  If he does, what’s the problem? He gave me the key. He offered me the room. That didn’t mean she wanted to see him, especially not in her room. She’d kept her emotions under wrap in the lobby yesterday, but in here, alone, would be much harder.

  After what seemed to be an eternity, whoever it was must have changed their mind and walked away. When the footsteps seemed far enough away, she cracked her door slightly and peered out. She could tell it was Alex. His tall, muscular build wasn’t something she could forget. Even if I wanted to.

  Ziva watched him turn the corner and disappear from sight. This was her opportunity. She closed her door, ran to the dresser where she had placed the hard plastic bank card, then headed out the door.

  She didn’t have time to waste. He was gone but for how long she wasn’t sure. Hopefully not to go and meet up with some unsuspecting woman. Ziva froze as her hand was on the doorknob of his room. Should she follow him instead? Would her planned search turn up empty and her time be better spent watching him?

  Taking a deep breath, s
he took the card and slipped it between the doorjamb. Sliding it upward, it came in contact with the locking mechanism. It took a few tries, but eventually she heard the click, and the door opened.

  That was her answer. She’d search now and follow later. Ziva quickly went into his room and shut the door behind her. She began opening drawers and looking through them. It was odd because he had hardly unpacked, as though he wanted to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Do your dirty little deed, have your fun, and leave. Oh yes, you’re the son of James Henderson. God help the poor woman they send you.

  Ziva needed to focus on the task at hand. There wouldn’t be a second shot at it. Looking around, she noticed she’d left the drawers ajar. She hadn’t thought about keeping things exactly as she’d found them when she came in. All she wanted was proof of who he was, and what he was doing. She then could post her findings on the Internet for all the world to see exactly what kind of sick bastard he was.

  She had every intention to make sure the Henderson name would never be looked upon in the same light in the business world. No respectable person would want any dealings with them. Their family name would go down in shame where it belonged.

  Ziva thought about going back and fixing the contents of the drawers. That would waste valuable time. So instead, she made sure the next few things she searched were scattered around making it look as though his room had been ransacked. There was a small amount of money left on the nightstand, which she took to make it look like a robbery. In this town, that’s very likely. Even in the one decent hotel. But I’d be shocked if anyone besides me was stupid enough to mess with a Henderson.

  If the situation weren’t so darn serious, she’d laugh. If her father had a clue what she was up to, he’d roll over in his grave. Although he’d always spoken about doing something to make the madness end, he never had the chance. Despite his many stories of what he’d wanted to do, she wasn’t putting them into action. She would do things her way. For her sister. For her father. She wasn’t delusional enough to believe it all would be over, but she was going to bring to light what was happening, what’d been going on for more years than she’d been alive. No one would look at Tabiq and their women the same again. Money won’t buy my silence.

  Ziva headed to the closet. When she opened it, she found blankets from the bed piled up in a ball. She pulled them out and noticed they’d been intentionally placed to hide a duffel bag that didn’t match the rest of his luggage. That was odd. The bag seemed completely out of place. She bent down and tried to drag it out, but it was too heavy. She knelt down and unhooked the first belt around it. Alex certainly wanted whatever was inside to be secure.

  She knew this had to be what she was looking for. Once it was unlatched, she moved the zipper down and reached her hand inside. Ziva gasped, as her fingers made contact with cold metal. Running her hand carefully down, she knew it was a gun. Moving her hands around, she noticed there wasn’t just one.

  What the heck is he doing with all this? Is he going to kill the women after he gets what he wants from them? It was truly a horrible life for these women after being forced to have sex with these disgusting men. Some probably thought death was easier than living a life in disgrace afterward. No man would marry them. They were forced to continue a life of prostitution or live alone in abject poverty. They couldn’t go back to their families; they didn’t want to bring shame to them either. Maybe death is a merciful thing, but I refuse to allow Alexander Henderson to deliver it.

  Ziva wasn’t sure how she was going to manage, but the bag was going with her. She stood, grabbed the handles, and with all her might began to pull it from the closet floor. You must have an arsenal in here. It’s got to weigh over one hundred pounds.

  Her hands hurt as she struggled to move it a few inches at a time. This wasn’t going to work. Since she was all about keeping her own room secure, she’d never unlocked the adjoining door on her side and she couldn’t drag a large heavy bag back to her room through the hallway. It was too risky. With all her effort it still lay partially in the closet. She closed it and put the blankets back on top. She needed to find someone to help her, someone she could trust.

  There were good people here, and she knew it. They hated what was going on as much as she did. The only difference: they had families who’d pay the price if they helped her. She had no one left. After spending two years in hiding, Ziva hoped to spend many years making up for lost time with her parents. Instead they’d died not long after she came out of hiding, tearing her heart in two. There had been no explanation about what happened, but she knew they’d been searching for answers about her sister, Isa. Not surprising. She’d buried them alone, lived alone, mourned alone. Years later, nothing had changed. No one would cry for her if she disappeared. No one would mourn.

  Closing the closet, she headed toward the door and heard the handle jiggle. Oh, God. He’s back. She looked around the room for a place to hide. If she’d thought about it earlier, she’d have unlocked her side of the adjoining door. It would’ve been the easiest way of escape. Since she had decided to keep it bolted on her side, using it was impossible. There was a couch, but that wouldn’t provide any cover. What the hell am I going to do?

  Rushing over, she threw herself onto the floor and rolled beneath the bed. This was one time being so petite worked in her favor.

  She lay there motionless as she heard the door open.

  “Shit,” a man’s voice hissed.

  Ziva could see the closet from her hiding spot. Although the room was a jumble, the guy seemed to head straight for the closet. That struck her as odd, but it meant he knew what he was looking for.

  Although she couldn’t see him, she saw his feet as he stopped and opened it. The blankets were tossed back onto the floor near the bed, blocking her view. Moments later, she heard the bag unzip.

  Then it sounded like the bag was picked up, and the man was walking away. Whoever it was didn’t seem worried about the room looking ransacked or if he should look for an intruder. She heard the room door open and close again, and she was alone. He’d known exactly where to look and what to find. Was he working with Alexander Henderson or against him?

  Fearing someone could still be in the room, Ziva didn’t come out of her hiding place immediately. After a few minutes, with no further sounds or movement, she pushed the blankets away and rolled out. Looking around the room, it appeared exactly the way she’d left it: a hot mess. He’d touched nothing except one thing. One deadly bag.

  Her heart sank. There was nothing she could do to stop him, any more than she could Alexander. If she’d made a peep, one of those guns most likely would’ve been used on her. In this hotel the manager would turn a blind eye to her death, no different than he did to everything else going on here.

  Saying goodbye to the guns wasn’t an option either. She might not know where they were going, but she knew with that kind of firepower it wasn’t for anything good.

  With a heavy sigh, her entire body weakened with defeat. She had more questions than she’d had before. Is that guy working with or for Alex? Because if he is, I’m sure this is not the last I’ll see of him. But if he’s working for the government and collecting what they were promised in trade, the guns are long gone and so is he.

  Ziva couldn’t picture they’d pass up money for arms, but in conjunction with bribing them, they most definitely would. She realized her first thought about Alex’s plans for the guns was wrong. The sweetness she’d seen in his eyes was a façade. Alexander was worse than James. Not only was he here to feed his sick pleasure, but to deal in illegal weapons as well. Tabiq didn’t need any help getting more corrupt than it already was.

  Ziva wished she’d opened the bag to see what else was in it besides guns. From the weight, it could have been anything. The stakes had grown higher, and she was in way over her head.

  Standing in his room wasn’t going to accomplish anything. And if Alexander returned and caught her, she wouldn’t leave anytime soon, if at
all. She had a feeling he already questioned why she was around yesterday. He seemed oddly aware, as if he’s known she was there. Finding her here now would confirm his suspicions. Opening the door, she peered down the hallway. All was quiet, thankfully. Quickly she slipped out of his room, closed the door gently, and went back to her own room.

  As she turned the lock on her door, she noticed her hands were trembling. Bringing her hand to her chest and covering it with the other, she tried to calm her nerves. Ziva was playing a dangerous game, and with people way out of her league. She’d thought she could use technology to bring these detestable activities to light. This ordeal wasn’t as simple as snapping pictures and putting them on the Internet. This was about fighting to save innocent lives. Maybe my own. He didn’t give me this room freely. Do I stay to find out? This crazy plan may be the only way I find the proof I need. I just need to live long enough to share it with the rest of the world and pray someone out there cares enough to help. A stream of tears rolled down her face as she walked to her bed.

  Ziva, who only moments earlier had been exhausted and fighting to keep her eyes open, now lay on her bed forcing herself to memorize everything she could about Alex and the events that had taken place. She might be only one person, but she’d heard it enough in her life: it only took one to make a difference. If it were the last thing she did, she’d make him pay for what he was about to do. And if I can, I’ll stop you before you do it.

  Chapter Three

  ‡

  Alex didn’t bother informing the manager what he’d returned to. Back in Boston, he would’ve had the place fingerprinted. Here, he didn’t think it would matter if they had a name or picture of the person responsible. It was every man for himself in Tabiq.

  He still couldn’t believe the person was able to get in and out that quickly. Bennett must’ve been five minutes behind him and swore he passed no one. Alex wracked his brain, trying to recall seeing anyone in the lobby or the hall. Nothing came to mind. That could only mean one thing. The culprit had a room on the same floor as he did.

 

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