“Brittany, what is going on?”
“He made me poison them,” she said, and her voice broke.
Caid immediately got to his feet. “You tried to kill me?”
“I didn’t want to.” She stood and tried to walk around the table. “He made me do it. He told me that if I didn’t, then he would kill me and Henry.”
“You had contact with The Runner?”
She nodded. “Not directly. His second, Eric.” The tone was one he knew all too well.
“You were sleeping with him? Are you fucking kidding me, Brittany?”
“Henry wasn’t attentive; he was so wrapped up in trying to prove himself better than you. Once we were married, he completely forgot about me. Eric took care of me.”
“You are really something, Brittany.” Caid headed for the door. “Unfortunately, that won’t help you much when you’re in fucking prison.”
Her face paled. “What? Why would I go to jail? I didn’t want to do it!”
“Your excuses don’t mean anything to me. You tried to kill a federal agent.”
“No! Caid, please don’t!”
He shut the door on her pleading and headed for the gym. He needed to fucking hit something before he went to see Jameson, and the heavy bag downstairs would do nicely.
Pax stepped out of the viewing room and directly in his path. “You don’t want to be the one to arrest her?”
“Absolutely not. I want nothing to do with her. You handle it.”
“Gladly,” she growled and stepped into the interrogation room.
Caid hoped Brittany resisted so Pax would be able to knock her ass around a bit. He fucking wanted to ring her neck. He wouldn’t, of course, but dammit if the urge wasn’t there.
After ramming his good fist repeatedly into the heavy bag without gloves, Caid went to see Jameson in holding. The smug bastard stayed sitting when he saw Caid approaching.
“Nice to see you finally on the right side of those bars.” Caid smirked and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, well, you’ll get yours. How’s that arm?”
“Better actually.” Caid flexed it and ignored the sharp pain when he moved it just right.
“You know I had a nice talk with Brittany earlier.”
Jameson sat up straighter. “Is she okay?”
“Until she goes to prison.”
“She didn’t do anything!” Jameson stood and ran to the bars. “She didn’t know anything.”
Caid laughed. “Wow, you two really had a stellar relationship, didn’t you? She was in direct contact with The Runner. Well, through his second anyway. Probably when she was on her back for him.”
‘You’re fucking lying!”
Caid probably shouldn’t have taken such satisfaction in Jameson’s pain, but he couldn’t help but rub it in his old partner’s face.
“She told me herself. Once a cheater, always a cheater,” he said with a smirk and then turned to leave. He stopped for a moment and looked back. “Dirty cops don’t do well in prison, Jameson. I suggest you cut a deal.”
“You’re gonna get yours, King. And I fucking hope I get to see it.”
Caid shut the door behind him and headed back to Pax’s office.
“Here.” He handed her the camera.
“What’s this?”
“Images from Charmont’s shipping containers.”
“Since there was no warrant issued, I’m guessing these are useless.”
“They were open.”
“Just sitting open?”
He nodded, and Pax continued to eye him.
“Whatever you say.”
“Just see what you can do.”
“You know I will.” She set the camera off to the side, and Caid headed for the door. “Stay safe, King.”
“You know I will,” he repeated her words back and headed back outside.
“Thank God!” Mikel exclaimed when Caid walked in. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in days. Have you heard anything about Jemma?”
“She’s fine.”
“You found her!”
He nodded. “Caught her sneaking back into her own apartment two days ago.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s hiding.”
“From what?”
“Listen.” He lowered his voice in case anyone walked past Mikel’s small office. “There are some very dangerous people after her. It’s who she’s been hiding from.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you that. But I can suggest you and your family get out of town for a while. Take a vacation.”
“You think someone’s going to come after us?”
“I’m not sure. What I do know is that she was spotted leaving this gym, and if they think you may know something, they won’t hesitate to come for you and yours.”
Mikel pursed her lips. “We have been wanting to get away for a while.”
“You deserve a vacation,” he said with a smile.
“Please tell her I’m thinking of her.”
“I will.”
“Thanks, Caid. What happened to your knuckles?”
“I beat the shit out of a hundred-pound bag earlier today.”
“Without wrapping your knuckles? Those are going to ache tomorrow.”
“They already do.” He smiled.
“She’s really okay?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘okay’, but she’s alive, and I’m going to make sure she stays that way.”
Mikel crossed her arms and grinned at Caid. “You like her.”
“What? She’s a witness in a case, Mikel.”
“Oh, don’t pull that shit with me, Agent King. I see that smug smile on my husband’s face every day. You like her.”
Caid couldn’t hide said smug smile. “Maybe.”
“Well good. You will absolutely keep her safe then. We’re heading out on vacation, who knows where we’ll be. But I have your cell number, and I’ll give you a call when we get back.”
“Good. Thanks, Mikel.”
“Take care of my friend.”
“Will do.”
Caid stepped back out onto the street and hailed a cab. Once inside, and after letting the driver know where he wanted to be dropped off, Caid closed his eyes.
Brittany had tried to kill him.
She had tried to fucking poison him.
He had despised her after she cheated on him, had wished he never had to see her again. But he would have never thought she was capable of murder, least of all murdering him.
Caid hadn’t believed she could have hurt him any worse than she did when he’d found her in bed with Jameson that day, but damn, she definitely had.
“Here.”
Caid opened his eyes at the sound of the driver’s voice, and reached forward to pay the man. “Keep the change.”
Jemma opened the book she had picked up at the small used bookstore a couple blocks away and willed her body to relax. It was as if the second Caid was out of sight, she went back to the neurotic, paranoid, anxious Jemma she had been for the last few years. His presence calmed her, and she couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.
“Ugh!” She tossed the book gently aside and dropped to the floor to do some pushups. She didn’t have a heavy bag here, and she couldn’t risk going to the gym. Once her muscles began to quiver slightly, she rolled onto her back to do some sit-ups.
Her anxiety level lowered slightly, so she walked to the kitchen to grab some water.
A knock at the door had her relaxing. “Coming!” She was ready to talk about that amazing, mind-blowing kiss with Caid. What would that mean for them?
She pulled the door open, and it took her a millisecond too long to realize it wasn’t Caid waiting on the other side.
“Hey, Willow, nice to see you again,” Eric said and shoved inside with two of Liam’s muscle.
She stumbled backwards and tried to pull the gun out of her shoulder holster, but the two men reached her first. One gripped her
by the throat and slammed her back onto the floor while the other disarmed her.
“It’s been a while, yeah?” Eric crouched next to her. “Boy, do we have some catching up to do. That, and you owe me for putting a fucking bullet in my arm.”
She thrashed, trying desperately to get away, but the men were much stronger and held her firmly to the ground.
“Shall we?” Eric asked, and then men lifted Jemma. “We don’t want to keep your father waiting.”
Caid was approaching the building just as a dark SUV was pulling away. “Fuck!” he yelled and ran after, but the vehicle was already gone. He bolted up the stairs, and the empty apartment confirmed his fears that Jemma had been taken. There was at least no blood on the floor, which meant she had left unharmed, for now anyway. There was no telling what would happen to her once her father got his hands on her.
He opened the safe and filled the large duffle folded in the bottom with two rifles and some ammunition and then headed back onto the street.
He headed for the nearest parked car, and after mentally apologizing to the owner, broke the side window and climbed in. He had learned how to hot wire a vehicle, but this would be the first time he’d actually stolen one. It wasn’t sitting well with his conscience, but with Jemma’s life on the line, he couldn’t have cared less.
Jemma had given him the address to Charmont’s estate, but he had left it sitting on his fucking desk. With no other option, he took a chance and headed for the only place he could think of where they might take Jemma.
He didn’t let himself think of failing. He was going to reach her, and he would kill anyone who got in his way. Justice system be damned. He wouldn’t hesitate to be the judge, jury, and executioner for anyone who hurt her.
18
Jemma tried to regulate her breathing as she pulled against the ropes binding her arms behind her back. She had been blindfolded as they drove, but she knew exactly where they had taken her.
It was the same place Liam took anyone who betrayed him. Their final stop before they faced whatever punishment he deemed necessary.
“Well, my little Willow, it seems you have put me in a bit of a predicament.” he pulled of her blindfold.
She closed her eyes and willed her mind to relax as her father’s voice caused her typical panic. “Not much of one. You could let me go.”
He laughed. “Can you believe the nerve, Eric?”
“No, boss, I can’t.”
He clicked his tongue, and Jemma refused to look at him. “You and I both know I can’t do that. You betrayed me, and now you will pay. Not to mention, you shot Eric! You know that in my house, you hurt someone, they get to hurt you back.”
“You are a fucking monster, and monsters deserve to be six feet under,” she commented, keeping her voice level.
“Such a mouth on you! Surely that came from your mother.”
Her temper flared. “Don’t you fucking talk about her!”
His hand cracked across her cheek, and she spit out some blood.
“Watch your mouth.” He straightened. “Now, what to do, what to do. Had it simply been a needing your space, I could have forgiven you, but you crossed a line when you turned my shipment over to the police.”
“Those were living girls; you were going to destroy their lives. They are people, not fucking merchandise!”
“My work is none of your concern, but lately you have a habit of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. This makes me think you can’t be trusted, and you’ve seen firsthand what I do to those I can’t trust.”
“Then just kill me and get it over with.”
There was a hole in the bottom of the floor that was close enough that had she not been tied to a chair, she might have been able to jump into the ocean and have a chance at survival. But the way things were now, she was screwed.
“You are no good to me if I can’t trust you, Willow. I tried so hard to give you a good life. I was going to even make you my partner, and here you go betraying me to the feds.” He clicked his tongue and knelt in front of her. “That’s a shame, Will.” He stood and reached into his jacket to pull out the same gun he had used to shoot her mother. She would have recognized the gold plated .45 anywhere.
A tear slipped down her cheek as she tried desperately to hang on to any shred of courage she had left. She refused to beg this monster for her life.
Shots sounded outside, and she straightened. Had Caid found them? Had he brought the FBI with him? Was it possible this might finally be over?
Her father got behind her and pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple just as Caid stepped in looking more pissed off than she could ever have imagined.
“Back the fuck off her, old man, or I will put a bullet in you.”
“I very much doubt that, Agent King.”
“Give me a reason.”
“By the time you could shoot me and everyone else in this room, she will be dead.” He moved out of the way and shoved Jemma into the icy depths of the water below.
The cold surrounded her, and although she tried desperately to remain calm, panic set in as she struggled to get her legs and arms free. Her lungs burned, and her chest felt impossibly heavy as she sank.
Caid watched in horror as Jemma fell into the hole next to her. What the fuck kind of man would kill his own daughter? Only milliseconds passed while he watched, but it had felt like an eternity.
“Go on, Agent King. She obviously means more to you than I do. You just going to let her drown?”
“I’m coming for you, Charmont,” Caid growled as he abandoned his rifle and ran for the water. The icy cold enveloped him as he dove down into the hole Jemma had disappeared into only moments before. His lungs began to burn as he pushed down toward the bottom. He never swam so damn hard in his entire life than he did in that moment. He gripped the chair and pulled a knife from his pocket to cut the ropes that had been binding Jemma’s arms and legs. Lucky for him, his father had always insisted he carry one.
He kicked his legs and managed to get them both to some rocks near the coast. Caid pulled them both onto shore and immediately looked down to Jemma, who wasn’t breathing.
“No, you are not going to die.” He began CPR, but it was only a moment before she began coughing water out of her lungs. As soon as she did, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her sopping hair.
Her body was shaking, and while he knew the chill was partially to blame, the fear she felt at being tossed into the water was probably more the cause.
“Shhh,” he said quietly as he ran his hand over her hair, “I’ve got you, Jemma.” They sat there for a moment, her in tears, and him barely hanging on after seeing her nearly drown. “We need to get out of here,” he said and pulled away.
She nodded, and he helped her get to her feet.
“I don’t suppose you have another safe house, huh?”
She shook her head. “I was going to run from there.” Her voice was raspy, and Caid noticed the handprint bruise on her throat. He tilted her head up and bit back the anger that was barely leashed.
“Those motherfuckers will not get the chance to put their hands on you again.”
She swayed, and Caid caught her. “We need to go.” Caid carried her down the beach until they reached a house right on the edge of the water. He set her down gently at the base of the porch and pulled his badge out of his wet jacket.
On the second knock, a woman in what Caid estimated her mid-sixties answered the door. “Ma’am, I need to use your phone.”
She narrowed her eyes at his badge, and then stepped aside more than happy to assist. “Absolutely! Come right in.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry we are so wet.”
“Don’t even think to apologize. I know trouble when I see it, and you two are in trouble. Please make yourselves at home,” she said as Caid helped Jemma inside.
“Let me get you a blanket, hun.” She left the room, and Caid guided Jemma to a small wooden table.
“Here.
” He pulled out a chair for her, and then went to the woman’s phone. He called the NYPD non-emergency line and asked for Lance.
“Detective Zarbey.”
“It’s Agent King with the FBI. We met earlier?”
“Yeah, what’s up, man?”
“I need some help. We’ve got nowhere to go, and Jemma’s injured.”
“Where are you?”
Caid looked for a bill and read the address on the front.
“I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Thanks, man, I owe ya.” Caid hung up the phone and knelt in front of a shivering Jemma.
“I-I-I’mmmm sttiiilll sooo cccoolld.”
He ran his hands over her arms. “I know.” He reached for her, and she leaned forward into his arms.
“Here.” The woman handed him a blanket.
“Thank you, Mildred.” When she looked at him confused, he explained, “I saw the bill on the counter, used it to get your address. I hope that was all right?”
“Absolutely fine. Agent King, right?”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have any dry clothes that would fit you two, but if you are open to wearing a robe for about forty minutes, I can toss your clothes in the dryer.”
“You don’t have to--”
“I really don’t mind. My husband, God rest his soul, was retired NYPD. I have a lot of respect for good men who serve.”
“Thank you, Mildred.”
She nodded. “There are robes in all of the guest closets. Just bring me your clothes when you’re done.”
He smiled at her and helped Jemma to her feet. From what he could tell, she was more shaken than anything, but he still wanted to check her over just to be sure.
They walked upstairs to a long hallway. The first door they came to was a bathroom, so Caid led Jemma to the next, which was a sparsely decorated guest room. A queen bed faced the door, and a tall chest of drawers stood next to the closet, which he opened to discover three terry robes.
He laid two on the bed and then turned to Jemma. “I would like to check to make sure you have no other injuries, but if you’d rather do it yourself, I understand.”
The Runner's Daughter Page 12