Hiding From Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 2) (24 page)

“I thought you might not so I brought proof. Aubrey, come say hello to your big sister.”

Finally gathering control of her wits, Gigi was poised to flee when a young woman stuck her head out of the vehicle. A heart-shaped face with thick dark hair and eyes.

Aubrey. Grown, but Gigi would know her sister anywhere.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Her sister’s lips were trembling with fear and Gigi could no more run and leave her to the tender mercies of Alan than a small puppy or an infant. It was Gigi’s fault that Aubrey was caught up in this in the first place.

“What do you want from me, Alan? You need to let Aubrey go.”

Gigi congratulated herself at how strong and determined she sounded even when she was terrified inside. Alan stroked Aubrey’s cheek, causing the young woman to shudder and press her lips together as if to smother a scream.

“I want you to get in and take a little ride with us. Of your own free will, of course. You know I’d never do anything to force you, Georgette.”

God, she hated being called by her full name. Alan knew it too, which was why he did it. He’d always said he wanted to call her by a name no one else used. It had been his way of being so damn special.

Asshole.

“Let her go, Alan. This is between you and me,” Gigi said between gritted teeth, her entire body shaking with a combination of fear and rage. He’d gone too far this time, using Aubrey against her.

“It was,” he agreed. “Until you left. Now get in the car like a good girl. This just shows me that you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself. You need me. You’ve always needed me.”

A single tear was sliding down Aubrey’s cheek. There wasn’t anything left to do but admit that – for now – Alan had the upper hand.

Forgive me, West. I can’t let him hurt my sister.

Steeling herself for what was to come, she stepped toward the curb but stopped in surprise when Alan’s reached for her handbag.

“Your cell phone.”

He had his hand out, waiting not so patiently. She reached in, wishing there was a gun in her purse instead of a billfold and a hairbrush and pulled out her cell, placing it on his outstretched palm. His fingers closed over it and then before she could protest he flung it against the brick building. The phone broke into pieces and rained down on the sidewalk while Alan watched with a cool smile on his face.

“Now we’re ready to go. Have a seat, darling.”

Tightening her grip on the strap of her purse she stepped into the limousine, the inside cool and dark. Two of Alan’s minions, large and armed, sat on the opposite seat while Gigi slid next to Aubrey and grabbed her hand.

“It’ll be okay,” she said softly, squeezing Aubrey’s cold fingers between her own. Gigi’s palm was sticky with sweat but she was determined Alan wouldn’t see her fear. Not anymore. She wouldn’t give in this time. She’d fight to the very end.

Aubrey nodded but the fear was still there. Gig wrapped an arm around her sister, trying desperately to comfort the shaking young woman who clearly comprehended the gravity of the current situation. Alan was going to take them somewhere out of the way and keep them prisoner. With the cell phone smashed on the street she had no hope that West would be able to trace it, which she was sure was Alan’s plan.

Gigi was on her own but this time was going to be different. She’d learned to be strong and resourceful in the last two years. She’d learned to fight for her freedom and she didn’t intend to stop now.

*     *     *

West re-read the
note that Gigi had left on her pillow.

Gone to coffee shop. I’ll be back with breakfast. Love you.

Smiling and feeling happier than he had in a long while, he levered up from the bed and reached for his blue jeans, tugging them up his legs. He wished she’d woken him before she left so he could go with her but he knew she was relishing her newfound freedom. She’d been scared and on the run for so long she had to be chomping at the bit to go somewhere – hell, anywhere – all by herself.

Even if it was only a trip two doors down from the hotel.

He zipped up his jeans and grabbed a t-shirt from his suitcase, his mind already thinking about the day. They needed to contact Gigi’s sister Aubrey who was probably upset that her boss was behind bars. He’d explain as much as he could and then hopefully she’d agree to travel back to Montana with them so she and Gigi could spend some time together. He wasn’t as fond of big cities as Travis was, but if Aubrey wasn’t willing to visit Tremont then he and Gigi would stay here in Chicago for a few weeks. Zach had said he was perfectly at ease doing either and that his employment situation was “casual”, whatever that meant. West was pretty sure it meant that if Zach had to quit his job at the martial arts gym to spend time with his sisters he’d damn well do it.

West’s cell on the bedside table chirped and he finished pulling the shirt over his head and reached for the phone.

Jared Monroe, Jason’s computer research genius.

“You’re calling early,” West laughed, pressing the phone to his ear. “What time is it in Seattle?”

“Around six, but we live by the baby’s schedule. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I was awake. What’s up? Is everything okay with Shane?”

West had received a text from his cousin last night that he was home and resting comfortably but that didn’t mean he still didn’t feel guilty about Shane’s injuries. Hellfire, he was shot. West was going to have to buy Shane a car or something to make up for what happened.

“Everything is fine as far as I know. I talked to him last night and he sounded good. No, I’m calling about this Alan Morton guy. I’ve got some information you might find interesting. I just sent some photos to your email along with every detail I could find on your suspect. But you need to look at the pictures. You’ll see what I mean.”

“Talk to me,” West said, flipping open the laptop and clicking on the email attachments. He didn’t see much that interested him until he came across a picture of Morton’s family when the man was a teenager. “Shit. Just…shit.”

“That’s what I said after I saw a picture of your girlfriend. They’re dead ringers for each other, aren’t they?”

West couldn’t stop staring at the picture of the girl sitting next to a young Alan Morton, his brain having trouble comprehending what Jared was showing him. “Who is she?”

“Morton’s stepsister, Anna. His father married her mother when Morton was sixteen and Anna was fifteen. She died in a car crash three years later. There were two couples in the car and all of them had been drinking and partying. The driver lost control on a rainy night and hit a tree.”

That’s why Morton was so obsessed with Gigi. He wanted to replace Anna with a look alike. Sick bastard.

“That’s why he never gave up.”

“From what I’ve been able to find out from some of Morton’s friends he was obsessed with his stepsister,” Jared continued. “He never liked her boyfriends and he kept her on a tight leash – walking her to and from school and convincing his parents that she shouldn’t be allowed to drive anywhere by herself. His friends thought that it was strange but he told them he felt protective because Anna was pretty wild and didn’t always use the best judgment.”

“That is fucked up about ten different ways.”

“Apparently his attempt at controlling her only served to make her even more rebellious than your usual teenage girl. She drank, smoked, and basically ran around with the biggest losers in school. Of course that just made him more determined.”

West sighed and closed the photo array. “I appreciate all the digging you’ve had to do to find this out. It explains a lot.”

“Glad I could help. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

West hung up but didn’t even get to set his phone on the table before it was buzzing again. The name displayed read Agent Faulkner and West eagerly swiped the screen wanting to hear the latest news regarding Alan Morton.

“Anderson.”

“This is Faulkner.” The man sounded tired as if he’d been up all night. West wouldn’t have been surprised. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

West’s heart sunk and his stomach churned as bile rose in his throat. “He’s going to make bail today isn’t he? The bastard.”

“It’s worse. You need to keep your girlfriend close to you. Morton’s
already
made bail. He’s got friends in high places in Chicago and he called in a favor. A judge crawled out of bed and arraigned him in the dead of night. Morton never saw the inside of a jail cell. He’s probably out celebrating right now.”

West’s heart stopped in his chest. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “What? Are you kidding me? He’s out? How long has he been free?”

Faulkner sighed tiredly. “Four or five hours maybe. Shit, I just found out about it ten minutes ago. I’m not any happier about it than you are. My balls are in a wringer over here about the bust as it is. The powers that be are threatening to demote me down to dog catcher.”

This wasn’t Faulkner’s fault but that didn’t make things any better. Gigi was out there…somewhere. Unprotected and on her own.

“Gigi left alone for the coffee shop. I have to go find her.”

West didn’t wait another second, ending the call and shoving his feet into a pair of tennis shoes before bolting out of the room and into the nearest elevator. The ride seemed to take twice as long as it had last night and the doors had barely opened when he dashed into the lobby, his breathing ragged with full-on terror. He couldn’t let anything happen to Gigi, not after all she’d been through to hide from that psycho-bastard.

Shoving open the hotel doors, he ran onto the sidewalk and straight into the coffee shop only two doors down. The customers must have thought he was some kind of lunatic when he made his entrance. He hit the door so hard it flew back on its hinges and slammed into the wall while he stood there, panting and a wild look on his face. His gaze darted from corner to corner but Gigi was nowhere to be found.

He backed out of the door and stood on the sidewalk, barely controlling the urge to yell her name at the top of his lungs. She wasn’t in the coffee shop and if she’d been walking back he would have ran into her.
She was gone.

He stumbled a few steps back toward the hotel but stopped when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Kneeling down, he scooped up the broken pieces of Gigi’s cell phone in his palm. The pink flowered case was split and cracked but there was no doubt this was hers. He’d helped her pick it out in the early days of their relationship, teasing her about how girly it was. She’d taken his crap and simply stuck out her tongue in response and giggled.

He’d give anything to see her do it again right this minute.

The sound of running footsteps caught his attention and he looked up to find Travis and Zach standing over him, wearing puzzled expressions.

“What’s going on? Where’s Gigi?” Travis asked as West stood in shock holding what was left of her phone.

“I don’t know where she is but I don’t think she would give this up willingly.” West held out his hand with the broken phone and Zach’s face turned pale.

“Fuck, he’s got her, doesn’t he? When did he get out of jail? When I find him he’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

“I think we all want a beat down on this guy,” Travis replied, retrieving his cell from his pocket. “I’m calling Jason and we need to call Faulkner. Maybe the police too.”

“I’m going to kill Morton.” West’s tone was quiet but deadly, matching his mood. He didn’t know what this sick fuck was going to do and he didn’t want to wait around to find out. But running off half-cocked wasn’t smart either. They needed to figure out where Morton would take her and then put together a plan that wouldn’t get her and the rest of them killed.

“Easy, little brother. We’re going to find her. I promise.”

West had promised Gigi last night that everything was going to be alright and somehow he’d fucked up. He should have kept her close until…shit, after the trial? Gigi would never have put up with that. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all his fault. He’d let her down and now she was in that bastard’s clutches again.

“How can I help?” Zach’s jaw was tight and his shoulders stiff as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I want in on this. Don’t leave me out. I can handle myself.”

“We’re going to need every man we can get,” West assured him. “No one gets left behind.”

A promise was a promise. West would get Gigi back from Morton if it was the last fucking thing he’d ever do.

‡