Duty to Defend

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Duty to Defend Page 20

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson


  “Then I’ll be there in about thirty minutes,” he said.

  She hung up the phone, then downed a couple of aspirin with a glass of cold water. She needed to figure out if it was Adam who was targeting her—or someone far more deadly.

  * * *

  Levi Cummings stood outside Kayla’s apartment, trying to get his nerve up to knock on the door. Which was ridiculous. He’d spent the past two years running a multimillion-dollar manufacturing compound and employing thousands of workers, which had in turn lowered the town’s unemployment to just over 4 percent. All thanks to the Cummings family. Or so their head of PR always liked to say. But while he missed his work in the army, family had always been a priority. He’d decided to put his whole heart into building a company that provided jobs by creating the tents and outdoor gear that had become income for their town.

  In the process, though, financial meetings and other responsibilities had filled up his calendar, making it so he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually had a chance to head out with any of his company’s gear for a day of hiking and fishing. But he knew how to handle conflict. So how had it come to the place where he was scared to knock on the door of an old friend? It was just Kayla Brooks. The girl next door. The girl he’d known forever. The girl who’d stolen his heart in seventh grade and who’d now somehow managed to bring him across the Atlantic just to ensure she was okay. What he hadn’t been able to do—at least not completely—was convince himself that he wasn’t responding out of emotion or any personal reasons. Was his being here simply a matter of family honor?

  He knocked on the door, rolled back on his heels, then stuffed his hands into his pockets while he waited for her to answer. She finally did, a full thirty seconds later.

  “Levi.” Her gaze took him in. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Almost two years. How are you?”

  She hadn’t changed. Not really. She still had the same wide hazel eyes, red hair that now reached past her shoulders and a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks. She looked...beautiful. Not that it mattered.

  “I’m fine. Just wondering why you flew all the way to Europe to see me. And why Adam would want to see me.”

  She’d made her feelings clear the last time they’d spoken, on the day of Adam’s sentence. Levi had walked her out to the car, begging her not to take offense at how his father had tried to buy her off. Ira Cummings was used to getting what he wanted, and used to using money as a bargaining chip to get it—whether it was someone’s cooperation or someone’s silence. And this time the seventy-year-old patriarch had wanted to ensure that Kayla wouldn’t do anything that might further ruin the Cummings family name.

  But his father should have known her better than that. Levi could have told him before he handed her the check that Kayla wasn’t the kind of person to take a bribe. She wouldn’t tell her story to the paper, or anyone else for that matter, because she was one of the few people he knew who still actually held to their principles. He’d always found that refreshing. It was his father who hadn’t seen it that way.

  Kayla, though, had always been different, and she’d never do anything to hurt those around her or the town she’d grown up in. With a population of just under seven thousand, the town boasted a turn-of-the-century courthouse, a white water tower painted with the local high school mascot and Reggie’s diner, known in a hundred-mile-radius for the best catfish, fried okra and apple fritters. Levi knew Kayla loved that town as much as he did.

  She stepped back from the doorway. “You can come in.”

  He nodded, wondering how he was supposed to greet her. A hug seemed too personal at the moment, so he just thanked her, then stepped inside the cozy living room with its hardwood floors. The apartment was small, but the living room had a large window that would ensure plenty of light in the adjoining dining area and tiny galley kitchen during the day. She’d added a few personal touches, mainly some artwork on the walls, photos of friends and family that were stuck on the refrigerator and a vase full of purple and white tulips on the table, a surprise for February. What also surprised him was that it wasn’t neat and organized like he expected. As if someone had hurriedly gone through her things.

  Levi frowned. Whatever was going on, she was clearly upset about something. “When’s the last time you heard from Adam?” he asked, getting straight to the point of his visit.

  “I haven’t. I made it clear two years ago that things were over between us. I don’t know why he’d want to see me now.”

  “Neither do I, but that’s why I’m here.”

  “Trying to avoid another family scandal?”

  He brushed off the biting comment. “I’m not my father.”

  “No, but surely you haven’t forgotten the fifty thousand dollars he tried to give me, or the choice words and the long lecture it came with.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, but I didn’t come to threaten you, Kayla. I came here to warn you.”

  “About Adam?” She sat down on the couch and offered him a worn wing chair across from her. “He might have made some bad choices, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m pretty sure that Adam is the least of my worries right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She glanced at her phone lying on the table as if she were trying to decide what to tell him. “It’s nothing. Just some things I need to take care of. You didn’t need to come, Levi.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Then how long do you plan to stay in the country?”

  He studied her body language. She seemed on edge...distracted. Something was off. “Until I’m sure you’re safe.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine.” He leaned forward. He might be pressing for something that wasn’t any of his business, but he could tell by her eyes that something was wrong. “Because you clearly seem scared about something, and if you’re convinced Adam would never hurt you, then it’s about something else.”

  She mindlessly grabbed a piece of candy from a bowl on the table between them, tugged off the wrapper, then popped the sweet into her mouth.

  “Where’s your dad?” he asked, his concern rising. “I heard he was staying with you.”

  “He is, but...to be honest, I’m not sure where he is.”

  Levi leaned forward, waiting for her to continue.

  “I received some other messages today. Some...threats. But I’m pretty sure they weren’t from Adam.”

  “Can I see them?”

  She hesitated before picking up her phone. “You don’t have to come to my rescue. I’m not ten anymore.”

  A memory surfaced. The three of them had decided to take a shortcut home from school. Adam had tried to convince them no one would ever know they’d trespassed, but Mr. Sander’s bull had had other ideas. Levi had managed to pull Kayla over the fence to safety, even though she’d quickly assured him after the rescue that she could have scaled the fence on her own.

  She’d always been stubborn, even though he’d joked in return that she owed him for saving her life.

  “And this photo?” he asked. “You could have been seriously hurt.”

  “But I wasn’t.” She shook her head. “And while I could be wrong, I don’t think these texts are from your brother, Levi. They just don’t sound like him.”

  He read through the messages again. “I wouldn’t have flown all the way here if I didn’t think Adam was capable of following through with his threats.”

  “Maybe, but there’s another possibility.”

  He looked up and caught her gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “I think the threats could be related to my work.”

  “I know some about the nonprofit you work for, but how?”

  “We work with exploited and trafficked women, and n
ot everyone is happy about what we do.”

  “Have you received threats before?”

  “Not personally, but others involved with the work have. We’re combating a hundred-billion-dollar business. We get girls off the streets, which means while there might be someone else to take the place of the girls we rescue, someone’s losing their income.”

  She was scared. He could see it in her body language and in her eyes.

  “What about the police?” he asked. “Have you told them what’s going on?”

  “Not yet. I’m not sure they can help. Traffickers use burner phones and know how to work under the radar.”

  “Maybe, but you still don’t know who’s behind this. And even if it is traffickers, the police have got to have resources that will help, or has legalizing prostitution changed things?”

  “It shifted the role of pimps and traffickers to businessmen and managers. And while some do choose this life, there are still many who are being imported into this country in order to meet the demand—including children. They are promised work but end up trapped in a world they can’t get out of.”

  “And in the meantime, the traffickers are making money,” he said. “I’m just not sure you should shrug this off. You could have been killed when that car hit your bike.”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  “No, but this clearly isn’t over.”

  Kayla’s phone beeped, and she picked it up.

  He studied her face, trying to ignore the unexpected feelings he still held for her. Because falling for his brother’s ex-fiancée would not be a good move. He’d tried to tell himself that he was only here because he felt sorry for her. She was simply an old friend, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her. But it was personal, and he wanted to help her. If he had his way, he’d take her back to the US on the next flight if he could confirm her life was in danger.

  A second later her face paled.

  “What’s wrong, Kayla?”

  She stared at the phone. “They’ve got my father.”

  “What?”

  “They sent a video.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Her hand shook as she passed him the phone. He watched the ten-second video of Max sitting in a chair with his hands tied behind him as he spoke.

  “Kayla...I’m so sorry. They’re demanding that you hand over one of your girls—Mercy—in the next twenty-four hours. Or they’ve said they will kill me.”

  Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Harris

  ISBN-13: 9781488087707

  Duty to Defend

  Copyright © 2018 by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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