by D. A. Young
“What?”
“I know her as Fawn. She was the woman pictured with McCray in the magazine and who attended the charity event with him.”
“A baby deer!” Zoraida cried. “In her letter, she says they humiliated and made fun of her. That she resembled a deer caught in headlights when it came to having sex. They’d have to corner and sedate her every time.”
“How did she wind up in Sweden, though? Does it say?”
“She was purchased, but she doesn’t know his name. This is where the trail went cold.”
***
“I thought brunch went well.”
“What brunch were you at?” Holt replied sourly. “It must not have been the one where my wife disclosed information that she’d been withholdin’ our entire relationship! Or my new father-in-law giving me dirty looks? Funny, how when it was me—”
“Totally different circumstances!” Kat cringed at the massive headache she now had. “I still can’t believe how these situations are connected. What will happen to McCray?”
Summer’s work email had been cleared, most likely by someone who worked for McCray. Magnus had discovered that Summer was emailing herself photos of incriminating emails between herself and McCray as an insurance precaution. Her personal email still contained an exchange between her and Sten. She arranged for him to meet McCray and told him what her boss was looking for: a ring to be sold at an auction to raise money to help underprivileged children. He wanted sleek, stylish, and unique.
In exchange, McCray would contribute capital for his business. This took place the day before Kat met Sten at Primos. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, and Sten panicked when requests came pouring in due to the magazine pic. He avoided Kat’s correspondence and planned to talk to McCray after the benefit and give him back his check. Kat showed up, and he was convinced that he’d made a big mistake. McCray said it was too late and refused to take his money back. Sten asked Summer to intervene and talk to her boss as well, but she broke up with him instead. Then he was killed.
There was an email from Summer to McCray’s private email that same day telling him that she’d received a call from Al that their new guy Joey had been compromised and was being held in a clinic. McCray’s response was to have Al take care of him and get rid of all evidence. Another email asked how they should handle Andy Ferrara’s pestering. Her boss’s response was not to worry about it. The police commissioner was a golf buddy and good friend. The most recent email was three days ago, regarding Kat.
Sir,
Katerina Romankov wants to meet. It’s very out-of-the-blue and suspicious. Do you think she knows anything? She’s currently having dinner at Little Nicky’s. Should I meet with her tonight?
Summer,
I remember the lovely Katerina. I don’t know. She’s making quite a name for herself. This could get messy. Discretion is of the utmost importance. Get some men down there and arrange to have her brought in tonight. It’s time we were reacquainted. She’d make a lovely addition to my collection.
Another two hours later.
Sir,
The men should have dropped her off at the warehouse by now. I don’t like this. They’re out of communication. This doesn’t feel right.
Summer,
Stay the course! I’m sure they’ll be there soon.
Three hours later.
Sir,
Attached, you will find my official notice of resignation, effective immediately. I’ve given it great consideration and feel I am no longer able to meet the requirements you are looking for in an assistant. Thank you for the opportunity to have worked for you.
Best,
Summer Birkin
And now, she was dead.
“What do you think is gonna to happen? Did you not see your father’s face? That shit’s as good as handled.”
Holt glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. The same black SUV had been following them for the last five minutes for the drive home. Holt only had three neighbors close to him. None drove a vehicle like this. The windows were tinted midnight black, and he couldn’t make out the driver. Suddenly, a matching vehicle tore out of the woods, ahead of them, blocking them while the vehicle behind them sped up.
“Get down, Kat, and call Darby and your father!”
Pulse pounding, Kat flipped the seat back and grabbed her phone while Holt reached in the glove compartment and pulled out his Glock. “I can’t call! Something’s wrong!” she told him.
They’d kill their air. Holt tried the radio. It wouldn’t come on. Their signals had been immobilized. Dark-suited men hopped out of the vehicles, guns pointed. They reeked of government. Holt’s rage was tempered by the fear that if he didn’t stop, his wife would be harmed or possibly killed. A smaller man with close-cropped black hair, wearing aviator shades, stepped from the vehicle and waved at the men. Immediately, their weapons lowered. He waved his hands at Holt, indicating they weren’t an imminent threat.
He brought the truck to a stop. Kat was pulling arsenal out of the glove compartment.
“I’ve got more underneath the seat in the cab. Do not leave this truck, Katerina! Not unless I give you a signal. Are. We. Clear?”
“Holton!” She kissed him. “Be careful. I didn’t come this far with you, to only come this far! I won’t lose you now!”
“You won’t, darlin’.”
Holt exited the car and kept his arms loose at his side, hopefully projecting that he was not a threat. The struggle was too real when you were in ‘beat ass first, ask questions later’ mode. Mentally, he did a head count. Nine men, including the man that met him halfway holding out his hand.
“You better have a damned good reason for ambushin’ us like this!”
The man nodded curtly. “I believe I do. My apologies, Brammer. Sorry to interrupt your weekend. I felt it was important for us to talk here before you returned to Sweden.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“You know me as Liridon—”
It was as far as he got when Holton swung.
***
Kat smiled insincerely and handed Hamish Gray A.K.A Liridon Bojku an ice packet. “Again, we are terribly sorry about that. Guess the big guy doesn’t know his own strength.”
Hamish squinted at her. “You’re a dreadful liar. I deserved it for thinking I’d have the surprise advantage.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t shove my foot up your ass, Gray. State your business.”
Hamish Gray worked for a government agency too important to disclose. Kat and Holt had rolled their eyes extra-long at that. His undercover identity was Liridon Bojku, an Albanian jack-of-all-trades. He was six years into his cover and rarely made an appearance. Hamish was only stateside because they were about to bring Charles McCray and ten other major players, who hid behind philanthropic duties, into custody for being part of an international sex trafficking ring. They were on the verge of cracking it wide open.
“Are you here because of all the dirt we found on McCray from his assistant?” Kat asked, moving to sit next to Holt.
Hamish stared at her curiously. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothin’. Proceed,” Holt ordered, pressing his knee to Kat’s, indicating she should keep quiet about what they knew.
“If you have any information that could further solidify the case, we’d appreciate it. The reason I wanted to connect, is that my name has been implicated in an assault on your cousin Mattias Falk, and I was only recently made aware that you have been searching for me. I had nothing to do with your cousin’s death. I can assure you that someone is trying to frame me. My cover possibly blown? It’s another reason I stayed out of Sweden. However, in my research, I discovered Mattias had reached out to Interpol.”
Sweat formed between Holt’s shoulder blades. “For what?”
“He suspected that your grandmother’s foundation is the cover for a sex trafficking ring and that Daniel Samuelsson is behind it.”
Chapter Thirty
“Mattias notic
ed some discrepancies in the foundation’s books. They were well-hidden but equated to the sum of Samuelsson’s salary every month. He was actively compiling evidence against him and having him followed. The private detective reported that Samuelsson spent a frequent amount of time at an abandoned lot. He gave your cousin the address, and it turned out to be the location of the foundation’s new center.”
Holt remembered Blaise’s words.
“It’s a reward for securing the location for the new children’s center we’re building.”
“It’s goin’ to be a children’s center,” he said abruptly.
“Mattias visited the property and, at first glance, found it dilapidated. Upon further inspection, he noticed there was a door with a brand-new lock on it. He left and came back the next day when he knew Samuelsson was at work, with a lock cutter. Inside was a young American woman. She was frightened that he was coming to spend time with her. The room consisted of a toilet and a cot. It took a great deal of coaxing on Mattias’ part to get her to leave with him. He set her up in an apartment and reached out to us. By the time the information was processed, it was too late. He’d been compromised and the victim killed. We scoped the abandoned property and discovered that the room had recently been demolished. Our guess is that Samuelsson followed Mattias and scrubbed house. The rat became the cat and did its own extermination.”
Kat winced and Holt’s fingers curled into a fist at Hamish’s missing sensitivity chip. She rubbed his thigh until some of the tension evaporated. “What do you want from Holt? A simple phone call would have sufficed if this was strictly about Matty.”
Hamish grinned in approval at her summation. “I know who your husband is and what he does for his family’s company. We know all the players in the game and tend to steer clear of the good guys because nine times out of ten, A- we can’t prove shit and B-they’re already eliminating a current problem or foreseen one for us. The Zannicks have, for lack of a better explanation, been fucking us up the ass for years. Good riddance to them. Yet, no tales have fascinated us more than those of the legendary “Wolf” and “The Illusionist”. Tell me, Katerina, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?”
His eyes were cagey while Holt stared at him blankly, revealing nothing. Kat chose to take her cue from her husband.
“That’s Mrs. Brammer to you, Hamish. Would you care for more coffee?”
“No, thank you. I felt that it was time for a face-to-face. Samuelsson is obviously trying to frame me and throw your husband off track. I’ve supplied him with the information to complete the missing pieces to his puzzle.” Hamish pushed his chair back and stood and tossed a business card on the table.
“You mean you tossed the bait to reel in bigger fish,” Kat snapped.
“If you prefer to think of it in such a manner, I have no objections. I figured the Falks would want to get out in front of this nightmare, to preserve your grandmother’s foundation and legacy. I’m done for now. Thank you for the ice pack. My apologies, again, for intruding on your honeymoon. Holton, if you are able to find anything, that’s my card with the number where I can be reached at all times.”
***
Kat sat patiently on the steps of the back porch, waiting for her husband to finish chopping wood. He’d been at it for an hour, nonstop, since Hamish left. Holt had stripped out of his blazer and tee and grabbed a monster of an axe and went to work.
“Are you hungry? I can heat up some leftovers.”
“No.”
It grew dark and still, Holt chopped. Kat went inside and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around herself while he sustained his frustration.
“Go inside, Kat.”
“Not without you,” she insisted obstinately. “We need to talk. I know today was a lot for you to process. I’m worried that if you don’t put the axe down, you’ll run out of things to chop and start on our cabin.”
Holt stopped chopping and approached her, body gleaming with the sweat of all his pent-up emotions, eyes hardening, and axe swinging recklessly, still obviously pissed. “You want to communicate? Fine. Let’s communicate.”
He set the axe back in its storage space and locked it. Holt stooped low in front of Kat and picked her up. He tossed Kat over his shoulders, ignoring her yelp of alarm. Holt kicked the backdoor shut behind him and trudged upstairs with his wife shouting protests the entire way. They entered the bedroom and he unceremoniously tossed Kat on the bed where she landed face down.
“Ooof!” Kat found herself dragged by her calve to the edge of the bed. Holt flipped the full skirt of her dress over her back and ripped her panties off. “I said talk!” she objected even though her girly parts were taking notice and rejoicing in her virile husband’s manhandling.
“By the time I’m done with you, wife, we’ll be perfectly in sync with our communication.”
The first smack was none too gentle and seared Kat’s left ass cheek. The glowing ache spread like wildfire, a straight shot from her bottom and landing directly between her thighs. “Ahhh! Holton!”
He was admittedly turned on by the sight of his palm print on her ripe ass. Her tantalizing fragrance wafted up to seduce Holt, making his nostrils flare and the crotch of his jeans uncomfortable.
“That’s for bein’ a hypocrite about keepin’ secrets.”
Kat was too busy purring at the throbbing sensations flooding her core to answer.
She looked so pretty waiting for him to have his way. Her pussy was so fucking delectable-looking, Holt was salivating, dying to bury his tongue in her glistening channel.
Stay the course.
The second smack paid tribute to her right cheek, and Kat grunted as her pussy spasmed happily.
“That’s for puttin’ yourself in a potentially dangerous position and not listenin’ to Tuck.”
Two more stinging swats to each cheek set off fireworks in Kat’s trembling body, and she could feel her arousal seeping down her thighs. Holt squeezed each globe, and spread them apart, blowing on her exposed vulnerable parts. Kat moaned into the mattress, clawing at the comforter, her body coiling with x-rated heat.
“That’s for the years stripped from my life, listenin’ to your shenanigans. No more, Katerina! Understood?”
“If I say yes, are you going to stop?” his wife whined. “What if I told you I have outstanding library fines? And I jaywalk?”
“Do you?” His anger was being overshadowed by lust and amusement.
“Maybe…”
“Then this is for conspirin’ to commit crimes.” Holt smacked each cheek a tad harder. Kat moaned, spreading her thighs a little wider, wiggling her tempting bottom in silent invitation.
Holt laugh-groaned and wrapped his hands around her thighs, pulling her back to him. In this position and with their height difference, Kat lined up perfectly with his erection. “You’re enjoyin’ this, aren’t you?”
“I don’t exactly hate it, husband,” Kat panted. “Have I mentioned that I also ate all of my Girl Scout cookies instead of selling them?”
That earned her the hardest swat.
“Pretty, little liar. You weren’t even a Girl Scout.” His finger trailed down her seam, scooping her cream up and sucking if from his finger, weakening his stance to resist eating her cookies. Motherfucker.
Her nerves were shot as she tried to anticipate his next move. With a triumphant smile, she listened to the melodic sounds of Holt unbuckling his belt and lowering his zipper; any second…
His clothes hit the floor, but he pulled her dress back into place.
“No dick for you until you learn your lesson,” he growled. “You’re gonna have to earn it back.”
“What?!” Kat flipped over to find a primetime view of Holt’s naked ass as he headed into the bathroom for a shower. He’d actually left her!
“You are unbelievable!” she shouted.
Holt gave a shout of laughter. “Welcome to my life with you, darlin’.”
Kat waited until Holt was in the shower to tex
t Autumn.
Spanking? I totally get it now.
Ping!
But have you reciprocated? ;)
Kat shrieked with laughter. “Why did I even bother?”
***
It was midnight. They were now in bed with three feet between them. Kat had stomped around for the rest of the night in an adorable pique fit after the bedroom incident while Holt covertly observed her.
“This was made with love,” she announced, placing his dinner in front of him, “but not reheated with it.”
Holt caught her around the waist and pulled her down for a kiss. “Thank you, baby. I’m sure it will be delicious regardless.”
She’d stomped away without a response, and he wisely refrained from laughing.
“I should have told you about Sten.”
Her concession filled the room, and Holt accepted her olive branch.
“Yes, you should have. You ran away to distance yourself from it. The same way you ran off to New York when we were dealin’ with our issues. Meanwhile, I’m tryin’ to fix my shit, as you asserted, with my family before comin’ after you. You were right, too. I was caught between two worlds. I’m not anymore. I’ve said from the jump that you were my number-one priority, but my family needed me. They still do and I won’t abandon them.”
“And I wouldn’t expect anything less of you. That’s not who you are as a person. I did run back then. It was a lapse in judgment, but I needed to clear my head. I didn’t know how to process Sten’s death and the way he’d betrayed me. Or why he’d done it in the first place! I would have helped him…”
“Betrayal is the harshest truth to accept, darlin’. It always comes from the people you’d least expect.”
“So, I found out. I’m still grappling with that lesson,” Kat confessed, turning on her side to face Holt, prompting him to do the same.
“I didn’t run from you when I went to New York. Madam Lalita called me the day I found out you were going to Sweden. I just didn’t say anything then. I wanted to focus on us. You already know how I was feeling. I let you dictate the terms for our relationship and allowed them to take precedence over my own wants and needs. When everything happened with Geneva…I exploded. How are you gonna call shots but your shit isn’t correct? Uh-uh. I was done with the mess.”