Tsunami Crimes

by Chrys Fey

  The door eased open, and Donovan stood in the doorway. Frozen. She nervously glanced at him to see his stare pinned to her body. He didn’t appear to be breathing. When she thought he’d pass out, his chest heaved. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. His arms snaked around her hips and tugged her flush to his body.

  “I don’t want any other man to see you dressed like this.” His voice was rough, and his eyes were the color of onyx. He swept aside the hair from her shoulder. His mouth found the skin below her ear. Then he lifted his head and whispered, “I want to be the only one to see this side of you.”

  “Donovan, I have to do this.”

  “I know.” He kissed her bare shoulder. “I know.”

  “I was finishing up. Stop distracting me.” She nudged him aside and picked up a makeup sponge.

  “I think you have enough makeup on.”

  “I need to cover up this ugly scar. No man would find it attractive.”

  Donovan caught her wrist as she brought the sponge to her chest. She was about to retort when he turned her and framed her face in his hands. “This scar is a part of you, and I find it incredibly sexy. If you only knew how often I think about licking it.”

  Beth’s knees weakened. She lowered her hand to the counter to steady herself.

  “And, as I recall, my opinion is the one that matters.” He pulled the makeup sponge from her fingers. “I’ll do it.”

  She turned her head to the mirror to watch him. When she expected him to bring his hand to her chest, he dipped his head. He kissed the corner of her scar, but didn’t stop with one; he trailed kisses from one end to the other. Her breath hitched. Could he feel her heart vibrating against his lips?

  Her eyelids fluttered. She clutched the soft fabric of his shirt.

  With each kiss he planted on her imperfection, she felt adored. What he was doing was more romantic than anything he could ever say to make her feel beautiful. Tears pressed against the backs of her eyelids. The scar Donovan lavished attention over marked the day they met and the day they fell in love. Although Beth hated how it looked, it held memories. It was sentimental, and she liked it more and more with each second Donovan’s lips were on it.

  Without another word, Donovan dabbed the makeup onto her skin.

  She opened her eyes. In the mirror, she saw his attention affixed to his task, as if it were the most important thing in the world. When he finished, he dropped the sponge onto the counter and met her gaze.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Just remember that our scars tell our story.”

  She nodded. “I know.” She reached up to trace the small scar above his brow. “I love your scars, too.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Are you ready?”

  “More than ready to get this asshole.”

  Donovan led her out of the bathroom to the living room where Thorn waited. Thorn turned when Beth’s heels clacked against the tile. His jaw dropped. “Damn!”

  “Thorn, if you say one more word, so help me, I will kick your ass.”

  Donovan’s warning had Thorn lifting his hands in surrender. He picked up a jacket from the table and held it out to Beth. “Here. You should cover up until we get to the location.”

  Beth slipped on the jacket and zipped it. It hid her scant clothing, making her look and feel as though she were naked beneath it. Teetering on her heels, she kept a hand on the bottom of the jacket as she hurried down the stairs and into Thorn’s car.

  Thorn drove to a rundown part of Orange County where the buildings were abandoned and condemned. You could find drug deals going down in alleys and hookers posted at every corner. Beth glanced at the hookers they passed. They were frumpy, dirty, and looked as hard as the pavement they pounded. Seeing the neighborhood where she had to be, which was far from friendly, filled Beth with anxiety.

  Her heartbeat throbbed in her neck, threatening to choke her.

  I can do this. I pretended to want to sell my body once. I can do it again. Except, last time she was in a crowded restaurant, not on a street corner.

  Thorn pulled his car behind a building and shut off the engine. He shifted in his seat. “Okay, Beth. The street corner we want you to be at is right on the other side of this building. It’s the same corner where he picked up April. All you have to do is walk down the alley and onto the sidewalk. We have an undercover cop disguised as a homeless person across the street. We also have three squad vehicles close by that can get to you in minutes.”

  “That makes me feel better,” she admitted.

  “Donovan and I will be here, too. You’re wired, so we can all hear you. Your safe word is deal. The moment you need us or make a deal with him, we’ll be there.”

  “Thanks.” She knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but that didn’t stop her from feeling as though she had swallowed a storm of butterflies. “When Ramirez stops to talk to me, why can’t you rush in and arrest him? You already know what he did to April and the others.”

  “The problem is we need him to stop long enough for us to sneak up on him, which is why you’re here. A cop had tried to catch him once before, but the moment Ramirez saw the car, he sped out of there. The cop lost him. We don’t want him to initiate a high-speed chase, so we need you to distract him. If you play your part well, he won’t be suspicious as he would if a cop was undercover.

  “We’ll wait for him to agree on sex acts, and then we’ll make our move. Even when we come, keep your cover. I’ll handcuff you while reading you your rights and bring you back here. He won’t ever know you were working with us.”

  He lifted the photo of Ramirez so she could get a good look at his features once more. Ramirez was a big man at six-feet-five with arms like canons. He had black hair, a latte tan, and dark, bottomless eyes. “Ramirez is your objective. Don’t worry about any other car that stops. Brush them off. Be on the lookout for that Hummer and make sure it’s Ramirez behind the wheel.”

  “Doesn’t sound too hard.” Beth paused to take a deep breath, and then met Thorn’s watchful stare. “Now?”

  He nodded.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the car door and stepped out into the sunlight. Donovan was at the edge of the seat when she turned. She stripped off the jacket and handed it to him. He draped it across his lap, reached up, and trapped her shoulders with his hands, pulling her to him. He stamped her mouth with his. “Be careful.”

  “I will.” She looked between him and Thorn. “I’m counting on you boys to have my back, so play nice while I’m gone.”

  Walking away from the safety of Thorn’s car, from Donovan’s arms, took all her courage. Her knees shook, as if her cartilage was made of gelatin. She moved around a puddle of dirty water with a rainbow sheen reflecting off the surface. With each step she took, her heart rate rose. She gripped her hands into fists and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths.

  All you have to do is identify Ramirez and stall him by getting him to agree on sex acts. That’s it. You’ve been through worse. She thought about being trapped in Viper’s house, surrounded by criminals and weapons, suffocating on marijuana smoke. The fear then had been poison in her veins.

  She stepped onto the sidewalk. Sunlight broke through the clouds, spotlighting her on the concrete. The street was calm and quiet, deceptively so. With a glance down the road, she saw a purple Cadillac parked in front of a building. Another car, a rusted piece of crap, was next to it. Two men stood between the cars, exchanging drugs for money. Farther down the road, a woman wearing white pants leaned her shoulder against a stop sign. Beth turned her back on them and walked toward the intersection.

  Her heels clicked against the sidewalk. The chains hanging off her shorts bounced with each step she took. They clanked into each other, creating a musical announcement that she was coming.

  She looked at the building to her right, the same building that hid Thorn and Donovan. The sign had been eaten by the elements, but she could make out some of the faded letter
s that advertised the old brick structure as a factory. Many of the windows had been broken. Large, jagged shards stuck out of the frames. Some were large, probably from bricks, but she noticed a few little holes the size of bullets.

  The rumble of a vehicle coming toward her had her spine jerking straight. She maintained her stride. A gold car slowed and crept along beside her. “Hey, girl, how much for me to smack that ass?”

  Disgust rippled through her. She coolly glanced at the car. The little twerp grinning at her had yellowed, chipped teeth. “You couldn’t possibly have enough money to smack this ass. Why don’t you keep on driving? The next girl you see will gladly bend over for you.”

  The car drove on, much to her relief. She walked over several cigar mouthpieces and cigarette butts crumpled on the sidewalk. Her gaze strayed across the street, landing on a man slumped on the ground. A shopping cart sat next to him piled high with black garbage bags and blankets. He wore a knit cap on his head and several layers of worn clothing. If Thorn hadn’t told her an undercover agent was disguised as a homeless person, she never would’ve been able to tell.

  She stopped at the intersection. The lights hanging overhead were lifeless. Minutes slowly ticked by, as if time didn’t exist in this part of the city. Must be why all the hookers here look a hundred years old. She started to pace back and forth, hoping to speed up the time with her strides.

  On her way back to the corner, a black sedan rolled through the intersection. She thought it was going to drive past her when it suddenly stopped on the opposite side of the road with a squeal of tires. She could feel eyes on her. Her heart pounded against her chest. Her feet wanted to sink into the concrete, but she forced herself to take another step, which brought her closer to the sedan.

  They said Ramirez drives a Hummer. But if this is him, you have to bait him. You’re supposed to be a hooker. There’s a potential client right there. Act the part!

  Facing the sedan, she put her hand on her hip, lifted a shoulder seductively, and crooked her finger at the driver hidden behind thick tint. The window rolled down a crack. She couldn’t see anyone in the darkness of the vehicle. Then something thrust through the opening and clicked. She ducked, thinking it was a gun. A bullet didn’t dive into her chest, though.

  As quickly as the sedan came, it floored out of there. Beth looked after it, catching a V and a W in the license plate before it swerved around a corner. “I don’t know what the fuck that was,” she said as if Thorn and Donovan were beside her. “A black sedan. A black sedan stopped and rolled down its window. I thought it was a gun, but it was a camera. Someone took a picture of me.” Her heart pounded so fast she felt like vomiting.

  In the silence that followed her frightened speech, she heard Donovan telling her it was okay, she was okay. Even though he wasn’t there, she sensed his presence.

  She looked toward the undercover agent across the street. He was on his feet, obviously rattled by what happened, too. Their gazes connected briefly. She gave him a slight nod. He gave her the tiniest of nods back and resumed his position on the ground.

  As she got her breathing back to normal, another car stopped in front of her. This one was a sports car. A man smiled out at her. He wore a suit and tie. “I have a meeting in an hour. I could use a blow job to take the pressure off.”

  Beth arched a brow. Men are disgusting.

  “Sorry. I ate a hamburger five minutes ago. I’m full.”

  As the sports car left, she sensed the officers listening to her wire laughing.

  Twenty minutes later, her feet hurt, and she was bored out of her mind. She was about to suggest trying another time when the deep roar of an engine sounded. She didn’t dare turn but leaned against the concrete post.

  The rumble of the vehicle grew closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black and chrome bumper. She tilted her head to it. The Hummer was massive. She couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the driver.

  The passenger’s side window slid down. She sauntered over to it, wishing her nerves would settle. Although she wore three-inch heels, she still couldn’t see into the cab. She had to step onto the running board and duck toward the window. Sitting in the driver’s seat, with one hand draped over the steering wheel, was a massive man built with layers of muscle. He had a big, diamond Rolex on his tan wrist. A silver chain rested on his chest. His black hair brushed the collar of his T-shirt. If he wasn’t so big, he would’ve been classified as a pretty boy. Beth imagined that’s what hookers found attractive about him.

  “Hey, big daddy, what can I do for you?”

  “I’d like to employ your services for the next hour.” His voice was so deep it vibrated the air between them.

  Beth grinned. “Employ my services? I like that. I’d be happy to let you be my boss. What’s my assignment, sir?”

  “Why don’t you hop in?” His dark eyes pinned her in place. They were like a deep, black abyss.

  Panic rushed through her. Thorn had never said anything about getting into Ramirez’s Hummer, or how to avoid it. Hookers hop right into cars, but she couldn’t do that. Nor could she leave. She still had a job to do. I need him to agree on acts. Shit!

  She fought to keep the horror from reflecting on her face. Her mouth twitched with the strain. Wishing Thorn could whisper advice; she reached out and found the door handle. It shocked her fingers, as if with a warning. She jumped and stifled a curse. She put her hand back on the handle. The door clicked open. She pushed it wide and perched on the side with her feet still on the running board. “I don’t like to go anywhere unless I know what’s expected of me. I like to get in the mood during the drive, if you know what I mean.”

  The corner of Ramirez’s mouth tilted up. Beth couldn’t help but notice how sensual his mouth was. She banished that thought with the image of April’s battered face.

  “Looking at you, I wouldn’t mind a buffet,” he said.

  “A buffet, huh? So you want intercourse and oral sex. Would I be giving or receiving?”

  His eyes trailed down her body and settled on her lap. “Both.”

  That single word sent Beth’s stomach whirling. Her intestines felt as though they were slick with crude oil. “I see.” She shifted her bag onto her lap. “And what about the level of intensity? We can do this soft-and-sweet or hot-and-nasty, but if you want to get rough, it’s extra.”

  “I like to get a little rough.”

  A little? You like to beat and kill the women you pick up. Her hand inched inside her purse. “Mm. I don’t think I’d mind getting spanked by you. What do you say we do all that for two hundred?”

  His eyes raked over her. He licked his lips. How he did it, as if she was a T-bone steak and he wanted to gnaw on the bone, gave her chills. “How about four hundred?”

  Beth arched a brow. He must like white meat. “Really? Well, you’ve got yourself a deal.” She prayed everyone listening heard that. She distracted him with her offers. Now, she wanted to get the hell out of there.

  “Close the door,” Ramirez said.

  Her eyes ticked back and forth, searching the road for signs of her cavalry, but no one was coming. Where the hell are they? She reached slowly for the door handle. Her fingers were an inch from it when Ramirez grabbed her other wrist.

  She froze.

  His grip was bruising. He tugged her hand out of her bag. “What is this?”

  In her hand, she clutched the bottle of oil. “It’s intimate oil. I was going to ask if you’d like to use it.”

  He inspected the bottle. “I’m allergic to cherry.”

  “That’s too bad.” She pouted her lips and thought about pouring it down his throat.

  He released her.

  She put the bottle back in her bag. Her fingers brushed the cold metal of a handcuff. Before she could question where her backup was, she took it out and slapped it on Ramirez’s wrist. She did it so fast he didn’t realize what was happening until the other cuff was attached to the steering wheel. He jerked his hand as if he wanted to s
nap the chain in half.

  “You fucking bitch!”

  When he reached for her with his other hand, she threw herself out of the Hummer. Her feet slammed onto the concrete, sending lightning bolts up her heels to her knees. The second she was safely on the sidewalk, she started to run. A gun sounded and glass shot out from the back of the Hummer. Beth yelped and ducked. Her eyes flew to the undercover agent as he ripped his semi-automatic from its hiding place and charged toward the Hummer. Vehicles poured into the intersection from all directions with screaming tires. Shouts for Ramirez to drop the gun and put his hands in the air reached her, but she didn’t stop running. She flew around the corner, into the alley, and slammed into Donovan.

  His arms came around her. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

  She held onto him as her knees quaked. No words came to her. She couldn’t even reassure him she was fine. In his arms, she could feel his ragged breathing, and she knew he must have run to her. His heart banged against his chest, colliding with hers. He had been just as scared.

  “Come on.” With a supportive arm around her waist, he led her back to the car. He helped her put on her jacket and, when her hands trembled too badly to zip it, he brushed her hands aside to do it himself. She sat in the back of Thorn’s car while waiting for him to come back. When he came up to the car five minutes later, she jumped to her feet and shoved him back two steps.

  “Where the hell were you? I trusted you to have my back!”

  “I’m sorry, Beth.” Sweat glistened on his forehead. His green eyes were wide. “There was a glitch with your wire. Your voice came in and out. We didn’t know what was going on, but when we heard you say deal, we all sprang into action. I tried to get to you as fast as I could. You have to believe me, I wouldn’t have put you in additional danger.”

  His voice shook, and his eyes pleaded with her to believe him.

  Tears stung her eyes. She got into the car without another word.

  The ride back to their apartment was quiet. She went upstairs without a goodbye and went straight to the bedroom.