Mickey's Baby

by Annie J. Rose

I loved her little hot pink dress and the long, tanned legs leading up to it. I loved how she could relax and laugh and have fun, how completely she trusted me to keep her safe. Still, I was in full-on protector mode, constantly looking over my shoulder. It had been better at dinner, when we were in one spot and I could keep an eye on the exits, but in the crowded dance club with techno music pounding and strobe lights sweeping the floor, I was on edge.

  Karin draped her arm around my neck and danced, her hips keeping time with the throbbing music, the mix of sweat and her sweet perfume filling my head. I kept my arm around her, just wanting to get out of there. But it was making her so happy, and I loved to hear her laugh. It was probably the most relaxed she’d been since we found out about Dominguez in the background of her pictures. So I decided I could handle another hour of the high-stress surveillance that had me gripping her arm and glaring at anyone who bumped us on the dance floor.

  I drained my bottle of water at the bar as she finished her second Mai Tai. “God, I am so glad we did this, Mick. How’d you know this was just what I needed tonight?” she asked, nuzzling my neck affectionately. Her body was loose from dancing, her muscles warm and her breath on my ear, which set me on fire. I curved a hand around her full hip and kissed her cheek.

  “I can’t wait to get out of here. I like seeing you cut loose, but this place is a crush tonight. Would you be too disappointed if we went home early? I’d make it worth your while,” I said. The truth was, I was getting a tension headache and wanted to get her alone, where I could keep my hands and eyes on only her.

  “Sure, thing,” she said with a smile, “as long as we’re talking sexual favors and not ice cream.”

  “I promise,” I said, “we’ll set a timer. If I don’t have your toes curling in less than four minutes from the time I get you in the car tonight, you get to call the shots in bed.”

  “Mmmm. I can’t turn down that offer.”

  “Good.”

  I was having such a hard time letting go and having fun because I constantly wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of there. I didn’t want the crowd around her when any one of these people could be a Dominguez operative or contractor. As much as it felt good to her to be out and partying, it felt like poison in my lungs with every breath. I knew that I could keep her safe, but I couldn’t afford to relax long enough to exhale in a place like this.

  “You know, we can just go have fun back at your place,” she said with a smile. I nodded gratefully.

  “I’m just gonna run to the restroom first,” she said.

  I got to my feet to go with her. She laughed, “Jesus, soldier, sit down. I can go pee by myself. I swear.”

  She kissed my cheek, laughing at me for being so overprotective. I hugged her to my side for an instant longer than I needed to, just to breathe her in, to remind myself that we weren’t on a battlefield, and we weren’t on a covert mission. We were at a club and the woman had to pee. I couldn’t very well tell her to hold it till we got home. So I waited for the check and paid it. I watched to make sure no one else approached the bathroom or appeared to have followed her. Only one other woman went in while she was in there and I could see the door clearly from my vantage point. I tried to relax, but I kept checking the time on my phone. She’d been in there six minutes. Something wasn’t right. She should have been back out by now.

  I strode across the crowded room, pushing people aside if they were in my path. I swung the door to the ladies room open. There was no one in there. It was a tiny, bare-bones, two-stall affair with a sink and a mirror. The window was open, and one of Karin’s shoes was on the floor. There was a smear of blood on the white counter.

  Chapter 28

  Karin

  Woozy, I couldn’t quite get my eyes all the way open. My head lolled to the side like my neck had lost all its stuffing, ragdoll style. I woke up with a sick, lopsided feeling. My forehead throbbed. When I tried to touch it, I couldn’t move my hands. It took me a minute to figure out I was tied to a chair, sitting upright, hands bound behind me. Wherever I was smelled musty, and I struggled to remember what had happened. I remembered going into the bathroom of the club and a really drunk girl came in while I was washing my hands. She was walking like she was completely wasted, but she was really strong. I remembered her nudging me over at the sink to wash her hands and when I moved, she grabbed my neck. She slammed my forehead onto the sink and pain exploded behind my eye. That was it, the last thing I could recall.

  I shivered, looking around in the dark for any way out. I should have listened to Mick. He told me I needed to leave town, but I was too damn stubborn to do it. Now I knew Dominguez had me. This wasn’t random. There was no drunk girl who hung out in bathrooms slamming women into sinks and hauling them out for fun. I had been captured, and I was going to be delivered or silenced or both. I felt so sick, the two Mai Tai’s riding rough in my stomach sloshing around with fright.

  Movement could be heard somewhere to my left. I tried to look that way, but it was dark, and my head hurt. Someone was coming, and it sure as hell wasn’t an ice cream truck. A light blazed behind me, something of the bald light bulb variety because the brightness was small in the space that felt vast. A basement? A warehouse? Garage? I wasn’t sure, but I could see two people. One was recognizable from photos and my nightmares as Carlos Dominguez, and the other was the chick that busted my face in the bathroom. I blinked at them and waited. It wasn’t like anything I could say was going to change this. I had no power. If they decided to talk or play with me like a cat with a mouse before killing me, that was their choice. I felt icy, sick fear and despair that should have been resignation but held out hope. Something, somehow, there had to be a way I could get out of this. I’d sure as hell gotten myself into it.

  “I’m terribly sorry my girl here had to knock you out, but you see, there was no other way to reach you. It’s been difficult trying to get your attention, Ms. Wright, with your very persistent bodyguards.”

  I tried not to show fear, but the fact was, I was shaking hard all over. I knew damn well my teeth chattered. It was possible that I was going to piss my pants any second now. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how frightened I was, even if I cracked my own teeth trying to stop them from clattering together. It was the last shred of dignity I had, I guess. I knew I was in the biggest trouble of my life. I drew in a breath and tried to speak in an even voice.

  “I caught you in photographs by accident. I was shooting exteriors for an ad campaign in a restaurant. You’re welcome to all the pictures, the SD card, everything. I just want to leave here and forget this ever happened.”

  I kept waiting for him to answer, to scoff at me or taunt me. But he just stood there with this evil smile on his face. It was all I could do not to cry.

  Chapter 29

  Mickey

  How could I have been so stupid as to let her get taken? Why did I let her go to the bathroom by herself? I knew how to protect her. I let my feelings interfere, my desire to let her have her way in one small thing, knowing how hard it’d been on her to be locked down and guarded for days. I scrubbed my hands over my face, filled with dread and self-loathing.

  “You know this isn’t your fault,” Connor said.

  I shook my head. I knew differently. A full twenty-four hours had passed. None of us had slept. We’d all been searching, ever since she was taken. We’ve heard nothing. The cops have heard nothing. There’s not a trace of her. Someone dragged her out the window of a ladies room and the trail disappeared. I wondered how the hell they pulled it off. Left no trace for me to follow.

  She couldn’t be dead. I tried to convince myself of that, but I was having a hard time. Because Dominguez was a lot of things, but he wasn’t inefficient or stupid. He needed her eliminated, and the evidence disappeared as well. He had plenty of contacts in the department, probably, enough to locate and destroy the photos. She was a loose end, and Carlos Dominguez hadn’t stayed on top of the island d
rug trade by leaving a trail. I didn’t underestimate him. I didn’t think for a second he was going to keep her alive.

  We sat at a table in the pub, which was closed for a family emergency, which was such a friendly way of saying that my girlfriend had been kidnapped by a drug lord. I had laughed when I saw the sign, the kind of unhinged laughter that lets you know you’ve been on a mission too long without sleep, or you’re cracking up. We sat shoulder to shoulder, the five O’Shea brothers plus the four guys Billy had brought in for security: Deke, Jonesy, Coco, and Wrecker. They were all talking, using a fucking whiteboard someone had taken off the wall in Connor’s office. They were hatching an op to find her, to get her back. I couldn’t even listen. My ears were full of screams, and it’s possible they were mine. Everything pounded, throbbed. My mouth tasted like blood, and my hands shook. Bile rode in my stomach, and I gritted my teeth to keep from vomiting.

  I kept trying to follow the thread of their plan. His palatial mansion was gated, and it was unlikely he brought his dirty laundry home. His known hideouts and base of operations had been identified by cops and were out of commission. He had to have taken his network underground somehow, found a spot to run things that was out of the way. There were warehouses on the other side of the island, and one of them was owned by Dominguez’s brother-in-law’s mom. That was one potential place they could have stashed her.

  Their plan seemed to involve recon, a stakeout, something to do with skylights. It sounded like Mission: Impossible shit, but I knew every guy at that table including me, had done wilder stunts before and been successful. Billy was writing down the equipment we needed when my phone rang.

  “Hello?” I said, my voice rusty.

  “Mick, it’s Herrera. We got an ID on the surveillance video from the bar. The woman that followed Karin into the restroom is Sydney Beecher. She’s a relatively new associate of Dominguez, but her brother’s been with him a while, and there happens to be a warehouse in his name. We think that’s where Karin is being held.”

  “Thanks. If you can give me the address—"

  “Stand down, O’Shea,” Herrera said, his voice clipped, “my men will take care of this.”

  I grunted and told the guys what was going on.

  “So they really think we’re going to let them take care of this?” Brendan said.

  “I guess.”

  “I’ve got the address,” Deke said, holding up his phone for us to see. “This has to be the place. Carson Beecher’s name’s on the lease.”

  “Thanks, man,” I said.

  In no time, we were loaded up into two big SUVs and on our way toward the warehouse. The professional security guys were geared up. My heart was pounding so hard I couldn’t hear. Never once in hundreds of SEAL missions had I lost my nerve or my focus. Now I was terrified right down to my bones. I had to switch off those emotions so I could save her. My eyes darted around the interior of the SUV, and Connor caught my gaze.

  “I know,” he said, “being in love fucks with your head. Just put it in a box until this is over.”

  “You should have a talk show,” I deadpanned, but he was right.

  As the tires ate up miles across the island, I watched out the window, trying to access the training and years of experience that made me proficient in special ops. I may be a medic, but I wanted to take lives more than I wanted to save them at the moment. I wasn’t one of those men who’d be so grateful to find her alive that I’d let law enforcement take care of Dominguez. No, I wanted to dismember the fucker for so much as looking twice at Karin, for ever making her afraid or taking her from me. It was that rage, cold in my belly, that sharpened my vision, stilled my fear. It was simple fury and bloodlust that carried me through.

  Chapter 30

  Karin

  Starving, I was absolutely starving. I also felt freezing cold in the air-conditioned space, my back hurt and my limbs were stiff from being bound to the chair. I was uncomfortable, hungry and scared out of my mind. Every single one of those inconveniences was a victory I rejoiced over because hungry and hurting and scared meant I was alive. Every second I was alive and alert was an opportunity to figure out some way out of here, or an opportunity for the O’Shea boys to find me. I knew they were looking. I knew Mick inside and out, and he wouldn’t let me rot here waiting for the ax to fall.

  It could’ve been hours or days I’d been here, mostly left alone in a big, dark room that was icy cold. No one released me for a bathroom break or a drink of water or anything. They weren’t invested in keeping me alive, but they weren’t hurting me, torturing me, any of the atrocities I’d seen on those true crime shows I swore to God I’d never watch again.

  I waited. I didn’t want to risk turning over my metal chair and trying to drag myself to the door because I was more likely to alert a guard to my movements than I was to find any way to open the door. I ran through possibilities in my mind, but mostly I was counting on Mickey. When I heard the door, I looked up. Dominguez himself strode in, big and muscled, well dressed—a Doberman in a good suit.

  “At long last I have decided what to do with you. You will tell me where to find all of the photos and the SD cards and any thumb drives you use for storage. I will send Sydney to get them. When I am satisfied that I have all of the data, you will be of no use to me any longer.”

  “What does that mean?” I rasped, my palms sweating and mouth dry.

  “I’m sure you know,” he said with a smirk that made me think of a shark.

  He turned to leave the room, but a huge commotion broke out. Suddenly there was noise, shouting, footsteps everywhere. Chaos bloomed in the darkened space. Men dressed like Dominguez fanned out around him. Shouts, the sharp crack of gunfire and more running footsteps filled the air.

  I rocked from side to side as hard as I could to tip over my chair. I didn’t want to be shot, and close to the floor seemed safer. I hit my shoulder hard on the concrete and cried out in pain as I landed. I knew my scream was lost in the gunfire and smoke and shouting. I saw Mickey. I knew it was him, knew his shape, his shoulders and stubborn jaw. A sob heaved out of me. He came straight to me, not looking left or right, not indicating that he was bothered at all by the goddamn shootout going on all around him. He picked me up, sliced whatever held my hands and carried me right out of the building like nothing could touch us.

  “Thank you,” I said, clinging weakly to his neck. He stared straight ahead, bearing me far away from all the hell behind us. He didn’t answer me.

  “I love you too,” I finally said, and let my head drop against his shoulder.

  Chapter 31

  Mickey - Five Weeks Later

  It was my brother’s wedding day at last, and I had a plan. Nothing to do with my best man toast—and everything to do with getting the maid of honor naked. We’d been through several kinds of hell to reach this day—Brendan had almost lost Elise when her boss attacked her months ago, and I had been so damn lucky to get to Karin before any serious harm came to her. We had earned a night of O’Shea revelry. All was right with the world and that was reason enough to celebrate.

  All of Karin’s fretting over details resulted in a gorgeous beach wedding. I stood beside my brother on the sand. I watched Karin walk down the aisle, all that dark hair gleaming down her back, her smile so bright and genuine. The expanse of smooth, tanned skin and her gorgeous legs made even the weirdly bright yellow bridesmaid dress look good. She was so gorgeous, so alive. I was one lucky bastard. Because she loved me. I had thought the only thing I wanted was her out of that warehouse alive. But I was wrong because she gave me something else I’d been dying for—she’d said she was in love with me at last. I would’ve bet she’d never admit it, never let herself really love and trust me, but apparently that was a gift of going through some serious danger and trauma together. We saw what was important, and I’d be damned if I ever let her go.

  The ceremony was beautiful. Elise stood oceanfront and barefoot, draped in what Karin said was ‘a perfect, bohemian la
ce dress’ with a handful of bright tropical blooms. She was blushing and plump and happy, and Brendan couldn’t take his eyes off her. She wasn’t the star of the show, obviously, because Brandi had pushed Lilly up the aisle in a wicker carriage while Lilly was supposed to throw rose petals but tried to stuff them in her mouth instead. The cuteness (and the panic of getting the completely safe flower petals out of her mouth) was superhuman and nothing could have been more unforgettable at that wedding.

  I could tell every time I looked at Karin that it was killing her not to have a camera in her hands, that she wanted to be the one hovering over the hilarious baby who was sucking on the yellow ribbons on her sleeve or trying to pull off her bonnet, that she wanted to zoom in close to the happy couple when they exchanged rings. It had been asking a lot of her not to do the photos, but she was loyal to Elise and had agreed to be maid of honor, even if it was painful to her to let someone else capture those moments. I had some of her camera stuff in my car for during the reception—I knew she would want it. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she saw that I’d packed her a bag—tank top and shorts, flip flops, and her favorite digital camera. She’d be over the moon. I still wanted to drag her onto the dance floor though, and get to enjoy those curves under my hands and the way she moved to music. I’d never get tired of that.

  The reception was in the ballroom of a resort, so after all the photos beachfront were finished, we drove to the resort and I gave Karin her bag.

  “You are a saint, but I brought something to change to. I plan to burn this banana dress later. We can sacrifice it in the fire pit and dance naked around the flames,” she said.

  “Sign me up for dancing naked with you,” I said, kissing her. “So what are you changing in to?”