The coldness of her words caused a chill to settle over Mickey’s skin. “Who hit you? Pete?”
“Come on. I thought you were smarter than that.” A brittle laugh pushed past Connie’s lips and she stepped into the room. Mickey didn’t move a muscle. She refused to show her fear. “Pete was just another pawn who outlived his usefulness.”
“Then who?”
“Why do you think I’d tell you?”
Mickey shrugged and her shoulder screamed. “Why not? I’m going to be dead soon anyway.” Connie didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her through narrowed eyes. Mickey needed a different approach to get her to talk. “Where are we? Are the girls here?”
Amusement widened Connie’s eyes and her lips curved into a small smile. “You really are stupid. Do you think we’d take you to them? No, they’re tucked away safe and sound right where I left them.”
Mickey’s blood burned hot. “You’re a monster. How do you justify hurting innocent little girls?” Her voice shook as she spoke.
“You don’t know me and what I’ve been through.”
“Then tell me. Help me understand why you’d do this.” Mickey softened her voice and rested her hands on her knees. The zip tie cut into her tender flesh, but she slowly twisted her wrists to try to loosen the restraint. It didn’t budge.
“I don’t need your understanding.” Connie’s words held less fire than before, and Mickey pressed on.
“You’re right. You don’t. But I’m going to die no matter what you tell me. It’d be nice if I had just a shred of clarity before that happens.”
Connie sighed, walked to the windowsill, and leaned the small of her back against the wooden ledge. “I’m a survivor. I do what I have to do to keep living. Plain and simple. I had to learn that lesson at a young age, figure out how to give myself at least a small choice of what to do with my life. I could either let men touch me, hurt me for their sick pleasure…or I could use what I had to get what I want. I could choose who touched me. I didn’t have to be a victim stuck in some god-awful trailer with my mother and her bastard of a boyfriend. I could just walk away. Live my life the way I wanted to.”
The ice around Mickey’s heart melted just a fraction for the broken woman in front of her. Connie was wrong. She was a victim. A victim who was so heartless and so damn brainwashed she chose to inflict pain on others in order to lessen the pain inflicted on herself. Connie was right, Mickey had no idea what her life had been like, but she wasn’t a survivor. She was another lost soul.
“Can’t you see how you’ve used the horrible things that happened to you as an excuse to do horrible things to others? Let me help you. Let me get you out of this life and into a better place.”
“I don’t need help, especially yours,” Connie said.
“So this is your big choice, the life you’re so happy to live? You help kidnap little girls and just stand back while they’re abused? That’s not a life, it’s a nightmare.” Mickey’s heart raced and her skin burned as she continued working at the ties on her wrists. They weren’t loosening at all, just digging deeper and deeper into her flesh.
“What the hell’s going on in here?” A dark shadow loomed in the doorway, his deep voice booming with disapproval. Mickey stopped moving.
Connie straightened and turned toward the door. “Nothing. I just came in to see if either of them had woken up.”
“Is that why I heard you bitching about your sad little life? Don’t talk to them, Connie. No one wants to hear your shit.”
“I…I’m sorry.” Connie dropped her chin to her chest. “I wanted to explain to her.”
“Explain what? That you’ve always been a whore and you like getting roughed up?” The man strode toward Connie, and Mickey recoiled at his words.
“No. She wanted to help me, but I don’t need help. I’ve got you.” A wide smile splashed across her face.
The man’s long legs closed the distance between them and he pressed his face into Connie’s, his silhouette blocking the light from the window. “You have me?” he growled. “That’s what you think this is? Some fucked up little fairytale where you get your man? You’re just a dumb bitch who I have to keep putting in her place.”
His hand reared back and slammed against Connie’s face. Her head whipped around and she fell to the floor. Mickey’s breath caught in her throat and she fixed her gaze on Connie’s unmoving form, willing her to get up. But nothing happened. Horror grabbed her by the throat when the man turned to face her, his lip hitched up in a sneer.
“Hello, Mickey. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
He walked toward her and she fell to her butt, her legs stretched in front of her. She tried to use her heels to push herself backward, but the awkward movement caused her to tip to the side. The man chuckled and crouched down in front of her.
“I’ve heard an awful lot about you. First from Pete, and then from Graham. Stupid Graham, running around trying to catch the bad guy. Not knowing I’ve been under his nose this whole time.”
Terror rippled over her, but she refused to let it take hold of her. “He’ll figure it out. He’s already putting pieces together. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
The man tilted his head to the side, an amused smirk played on his face. “Do you know who I am? I don’t think you do, or you’d know I’ve already gotten away with everything. It wasn’t until you showed up that things started going wrong. But you’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it.”
Floorboards creaked from outside the room and the man stood straight, his ears tuned toward the door. The groans of the house grew louder, and her pulse quickened. Someone else was here.
As fast as lightning, the man dropped his hand to her head and grabbed a fistful of hair. Her hands shot up to stop him, but she couldn’t fight him as he yanked her to her feet. The roots of her hair all but pulled from her scalp and she bit back a shriek of pain. Something hard pressed into her back and her stomach sank. He had a gun. “You’re coming with me. Can’t be too careful now, can we?”
Pushing her in front of him, his grip tightened on her hair as they walked out of the room and stepped into a dining room. Wooden floors squeaked beneath her flip flops and a rectangular table dominated the room. A crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling and a man sat tied up at the head of the table.
She craned her neck forward and squinted into the darkness. With no windows, it was hard for her eyes to adjust. She closed them for a few seconds, praying Graham wasn’t the man at the table, and opened them again. Her vision sharpened, the picture in front of her becoming clearer. The man at the table seemed older than Graham, his posture drooped and his hairline receding. “Who is that?”
Her captor turned them toward the table. “A friend of mine. He’s going to play a key piece in my escape. Because of you, things got a little messy this time around. I won’t be able to pick up the pieces and move onto the next thing. I need to make a big bust to clear any lingering suspicion of my department.”
The truth of who held her life in his hands slammed into her like a punch to the gut. “You’re with the FBI?”
He let go of her hair and clapped slowly into the quiet room. “Very good, Mickey. But, I mean, it shouldn’t have been too hard to figure out. How do you think Pete knew you were in Mexico? Or how I got Paula to let me into her home when she was alone before I could drug her and get her on a plane? When you have as many years as I do in the FBI, it’s easy to slip through the cracks to get what you need.”
The light flicked on and Mickey squinted to protect her eyes from the sudden brightness. “Don’t you mean slither?” Graham’s gruff voice sounded behind them and the man’s body stiffened against her back.
“I wasn’t expecting you here so quickly. I didn’t even get a chance to call and tell you what I had found.” The man turned her so they faced Graham, who stood in the arched doorway, a gun pointed toward them. “But this will make things much easier.”
Graham nodded pas
t them at the man hunched over at the table. “Is Harper alive? Or did you kill him too, Eric?”
“I didn’t kill anyone. Just because Pete was smart enough to use the razor blade I gave him, doesn’t mean his blood is on my hands.”
Mickey’s eyes devoured Graham. Her heart slammed into her ribcage and every muscle in her body yearned to fly into his arms. But she couldn’t. Her hands were still bound together and Eric stood at her back. He’d let go of her hair, but there was no telling what he’d do if she tried to move.
Her mind snapped to attention and focused on what Graham had said. “Eric? As in your partner?”
A dark scowl covered Graham’s face and anger flared in his eyes. “One and the same. How did I not see it sooner?”
Eric’s hot breath skimmed over the back of her neck and she shuddered. “I made sure you always looked somewhere else. Who do you think’s been pulling the strings all these years? Why do you think Harper was so pissed at you? I was feeding into his misgivings about your ability to run the case. ‘Graham’s head just isn’t in it, sir. He’s too caught up with this girl, Mickey. Wants to follow his gut again and not use his head.’ It was too easy. But Harper started to question my word and poke around. I needed someone to place the blame on, and you were already looking in that direction. It would have been a nice, easy way to clean up the mess Pete left me.”
Mickey ground her teeth together and asked, “What about what happened in Austin?”
“You told her, huh?” Eric chuckled. “Man, watching it eat you up inside the past month has been the funniest shit I’ve ever seen. And knowing I was the one who put the whole thing in motion. It killed me keeping it to myself. But then Harper started asking questions and Pete had to fuck everything up. I couldn’t keep it hidden much longer, so I figured why not let Harper take the blame? You’ve been bitching about how unfair he is like a whiney girl. Thought you might find some poetic justice in it.”
The lines in Graham’s face deepened and he clenched his jaw. “Why? Why would you do any of this?”
A moment of tense silence passed before he said, “It started for the money. I made dick with the FBI, and day after day I chased after drug dealers rolling in dough while I pinched pennies to make ends meet. It didn’t make sense. When I switched over to the human trafficking division and I saw a chance to break into the market, I jumped in.”
“You jumped into the market?” she asked through clenched teeth. Her stomach rolled. “You steal children from their mothers and sell them for sex. You are the lowest form of filth on this planet.”
Eric’s large hand shoved hard between her shoulder blades and she fell head first onto the floor. Her conjoined wrists shot out in front of her to break the fall, but they pushed into her stomach and stole her breath as she landed on the floor. Feet scurried behind her, and ragged breaths filled the air.
Bang!
“Motherfucker,” Eric yelled.
Bang!
Another shot rang out and Graham dove to the floor.
Eric’s words barely broke through the ringing in her ears, and she glanced up to see blood pouring down one arm, a gun poised in his hand. Turning onto her back, she shifted her gaze to Graham. Anger, hot and red, colored his face and his chest expanded with every breath he took. His long body spread out on his side, and his gun trained on Eric’s head.
Eric fell toward the table and rested his heavy frame on the back of a chair. His gun never faltered as it stayed aimed at Graham. “You’re going to pay for that, you dumb shit. I planned on killing you quickly, but not anymore. Now I’ll make you watch while your little whore girlfriend begs for her life.”
Mickey squeezed her eyes shut and tried to erase his words from her mind. She opened them again and glanced at Eric. All of his anger, all of his attention, was focused on Graham. She couldn’t get caught up in the fear that threatened to paralyze her, she had to do something. Using her core, she pulled herself into a sitting position, her legs still stretched out in front of her and her hands on her lap. She slowly inched her feet toward her until her legs were crossed beneath her.
“But first,” Eric said. “I need to make sure you won’t get in the way.” He shifted the barrel of the gun and aimed it at Graham’s kneecap.
“What makes you think I’m going to let you shoot me?” Graham asked, as he got to his feet. “My gun is pointed right at you.”
“Because you’re an idiot in love.”
Mickey jumped up on the balls of her feet, lowered her head, and rushed head first toward Eric’s soft middle. Her aching shoulder connected with the spongy tissue and rammed him hard against the dining room table.
Bang!
A bullet pierced her flesh and pain burned into her chest, spreading like wildfire through her body. She hit the ground hard, but she was so numb she didn’t register the impact. Her eyes blinked and she tried to keep them open. All the air left her lungs, but she didn’t have the energy to fill them back up. She stared up from the floor and darkness misted around her vision.
Bang!
A man’s face hovered over hers and she willed her muscles to move…but it was no use. Her eyes drifted closed and before she gave into the comfort of escape, one thought fluttered through her mind.
She was the idiot in love, and now Graham would never know.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mickey’s body lay limply on the ground, her head turned away from him. Blood oozed on the floor from her wound and his entire world stopped spinning. His heart shattered and the broken pieces ricocheted around his body.
She was gone.
Mickey had grown to become a huge part of his life, and now she was gone before they’d even gotten a chance to have a life together. Before he could tell her he’d fallen in love with her.
Rage battled against the anguish inside him and demanded him to focus. A loud groan caught his attention, and he rushed to the floor and dropped to his knees. Eric withered beside Mickey’s still form, his bad arm reaching for the gun she had knocked from his hand. Eric might have been able to move out of the first shot he’d taken, managing to only get an injured shoulder from the bullet, but he hadn’t been so lucky with Graham’s second shot. Eric wouldn’t be a threat to anyone anymore.
Eric’s bloodshot eyes gazed up at him and he grimaced. “Just kill me already.”
Ignoring his partner’s plea for mercy, he cradled Mickey’s head in his hands, his gun dangled loosely from his fingers. Her limp body melted into his arms and blood coated his skin. No breath fell from her lips, no movement lifted her chest. Eric had done this to her, he’d taken her away.
Graham’s sweat-slicked hands gripped his gun and aimed it at the center of Eric’s forehead. His finger trembled as it grazed the trigger. He squeezed his eyes shut and a scream tore through him. He wanted Eric dead, needed revenge on the lives he’d destroyed…on the ones he’d taken.
“Graham?” A small voice croaked out his name and his eyes flew open.
He glanced up, his eyes searching for the voice speaking his name. Harper lifted his head. Dried blood caked the corner of his lip and ran down the side of his face. He dipped his chin toward the fallen bodies of Mickey and Eric, his eyes intense and focused.
He sighed. Harper was right. Killing Eric wouldn’t solve anything. His body ached to gather Mickey into his arms, but he should make sure his boss was all right before he fell apart. He gently placed Mickey’s head back on the ground and heaved himself to his feet. His eyes bore into her, willing her to move…but it was no use.
His chest tightened and guilt swam in his veins. He should have been here sooner, shouldn’t have missed Eric when he had the chance to take him down. Turning toward Eric, he shot his foot forward and smashed it into his face once, twice, three times. Blood spurted from his nose and his head went lax. Graham lowered his gun and walked around to Harper. He grabbed a switchblade from his pocket and cut the bindings at his wrists and ankles. “Are you okay?”
Harper cleared his t
hroat and opened his mouth to speak. A cough rattled through him and he doubled over, gasping for air. Graham pounded on his back, but Harper shook his head, reached around, and pulled at his hand. He lifted a shaking finger, pointed toward Mickey, and Graham’s heart lodged in his throat. Her long eyelashes fluttered and her finger tapped slowly against her palm.
She’s alive.
Hope soared in his chest as he dropped to his knees and pressed his fingers against the delicate skin under her jaw. A weak pulse thudded against his fingers. He whipped his head around the room and his mind raced. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed redial.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“This is Agent Graham Grassi. I need an ambulance and a squad car on Orchard Street. Now.”
“What’s the address, sir?”
“What’s the house number, Harper?” he asked without turning away from Mickey.
“Five seventy-two.”
Graham repeated the number to the operator and disconnected the call. The pool of blood grew under Mickey, soaking through her clothes. He had to find the bullet wound. She’d bleed out if he waited for the paramedics to get here. He needed to put pressure on it to make the bleeding stop.
“Graham,” Harper said, but he ignored him as he glanced around to find something to help him take care of Mickey. “Graham!”
“What do you want?” Tears streamed down his face and hopelessness weighed down his mind. Mickey might still be breathing, but she wouldn’t be for long. He had to figure something out, and fast.
A hard hand landed on his shoulder, and he glanced up at Harper’s warm eyes. “Take a breath, son. You can’t help her if you’re a mess. You’ve been trained for this. Stop, look around, and form a plan. But first, we need to get that bastard in handcuffs. We can’t risk him waking up, even if you did beat the shit out of him.”
Harper was right. Graham blew a large breath in through his nose and pulled handcuffs from his back pocket. He brought Eric’s wrists together and snapped the cuffs in place. Harper yanked on the cuffs and dragged him away from Mickey. Using the switchblade, Graham cut the zip tie that bound her hands. Deep gashes marred her smooth skin around her wrists. A new wave of anger washed over him, and he ground his teeth together until it passed. He couldn’t focus on Eric…or what he wanted to do to his sorry ass…he needed to help Mickey.
Bound by Danger Page 21