Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series (44 page)

I snort, remembering the kid. “I said something similar not an hour ago to the kid who videoed everything. I told him that courage and stupidity were kissing cousins, or something like that.”

The captain scoffed. “Hope he does a better job of listening to you than you have listening to me.”

“I…” I’m interrupted by the ringing of a phone.

“Grimes,” the agent answers, short and to the point.

Pause. She stands up from her chair, every muscle in her body on high alert.

“What do you mean she’s not there?”

Pause.

Dread burrows in my gut. Grimes turns, not looking at me. The door opens and Gage walks in, takes one look at me and mouths, “Now what?”

I don’t have words or time enough to say them if I did. Grimes says, “We’re on our way. Knock on the neighbors’ doors. See if anyone has seen anything.”

I grab Gage’s arm and pull him toward the door. “What’s going on?” he asks, allowing himself to be pulled.

“Stephanie’s missing.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right. Drive me over there, will ya?”

Gage puts his hands on my shoulders and I try to shake him off. “Man, my truck is still in the shop. I have no wheels, remember?”

Agents Grimes and Ramsen are past us, racing down the hallway.

Captain Frank is right behind them. He stops, looks back and says. “Need a ride? You better move your ass.” He doesn’t have to ask twice; Gage and I are right behind him.

In the back of Frank’s truck, I hear Gage say, “Damn.”

I turn to look and he’s holding his phone to his ear. He hangs up and curses again. “Can’t get hold of Beth. Straight to voice mail again.”

This can’t be happening. We thought the girls were safe. Stephanie protected and Beth not a target.

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, willing the nightmare to be over. Maybe the agents are wrong; Stephanie is a deep sleeper. Bombs could go off right beside her and she’d never even flinch. She’s only taking a nap. That’s it.

Cap turns sharply into my apartment complex and pulls his truck into the fire lane. I’m out before he can slam it into park. Gage is right behind me.

I fly up the steps and my front door is wide open, agents streaming in and out. I burst in and immediately see the back door is open too. I point at it. “Was it like that when you all got in?”

An agent I don’t know shakes his head. “It was shut, but unlocked.”

I find Grimes and take her over to the door. “The door was secure. I had two locks and a chain, and we’d shoved a chair under the handle.” I look around and point. “That one.”

“Ken, there’s no forced entry. It looks like Stephanie opened this door herself.”

That was already the conclusion I was coming to myself. It hurt to hear it out loud. Why would she do that?

“Ken, is there anything else missing?”

I look around—all my electronics are here; nothing seems to be out of place. I search for Steph’s purse and find it in the bathroom. It’s sitting open. Her wallet. ID. Money. Credit card; everything is there but her phone. I correct myself; both phones are missing.

I search every room, looking under the bed and furniture to make sure the phones are really gone. Grimes asks, “What are you looking for?”

“Her phones. The disposable and the one you gave her. Her purse is in the bathroom. Driver’s license, wallet, everything is there.”

I turn as I hear an officer call out, “Beth Richards’ car was found at the Jones Market on Pecos. They’re interviewing the store clerks now.”

Gage sinks into a chair and drops his head into his hands. He lifts it and yells, “I thought she was safe. You fuckers said she was safe.”

Someone put a hand on his shoulder, but Gage shook him off.

Calm. Control. Focus. Think.

I replay those words in my head. Stephanie and Beth are missing. I walk in the kitchen to look at the door again and, for the first time, realize there are smells coming from the stove. I walk over and lift a lid; she had been making Mexican rice. Knowing it makes everything so much more horrible. She was doing normal things; being a normal human being one minute. The next minute she’s gone.

I pick up another lid and drop it quickly. The pan is fiery hot. I turn to Grimes. “Was the stove on? This is still hot.”

Grimes steps into the other room and is back in a few seconds. “Yeah. The agent turned it off. Contents are burned. Luckily it was on low or you could have lost your place.”

Yeah. Lucky me.

I look around the room again, at the chair she’d taken out from under the door handle. I sit down on it.

A flare of hope. “She has the encrypted phone with her. Have you tried tracing it? It’s tagged isn’t it?”

Grimes pulls up a chair and sits across from me, our knees nearly touching.

“Yeah. We tried it. Don’t know how, but it’s gone offline.”

It was my turn to drop my head in my hands.

Chapter 16 - Steph

My teeth chatter as I’m pulled from the van. When I asked the men to turn down the air, they’d ignored me. Now I’m so cold I feel stiff. It’s painful. Is that a strategy to keep people tame? It’s pretty effective.

Rough hands grab my shoulders and push me forward; I nearly stagger and fall to my knees. The other man yanks me backwards and I stay on my feet. I ping pong between the two of them.

How did I ever think I could rescue Beth? I was so stupid. I’ve only made things worse. If there was a silver platter, I’d go lie down on it and stick an apple in my mouth. That’s exactly how I have served myself up.

Stephanie on a silver platter. Har de har har. My gullibility pisses me off.

I push back against the hands forcing me forward and fingers dig painfully into my collarbone. As I’m shoved around the front of the van, I see him walking toward me. His smile is broad and his arms are outstretched. Welcoming.

“You made it! So glad you didn’t get lost.”

“Where’s Beth?” I ask, looking him in the eye.

He slaps me. Hard across the face. The force sends me backwards, into the two men standing behind me. One of them chuckles.

“Now see what you’ve done?” Jerome sighs. “Have your manners deserted you along with your good sense?” He shakes his head. “It happened to your little friend too. She needed a little etiquette lesson as well.”

My ear rings and my face burns, but I realize my mistake. I confronted him in front of these men. I tested his masculinity. I should have known better.

“I’m sorry. I’m just scared. Please forgive me.” I plead, desperate. I lower my head, but meet his eyes through my lashes, hoping for some small connection.

“Mmm…” he strokes a finger down the cheek still singing with pain. He lifts my chin. I cross my hands in front of my stomach and lower my eyes. This is how he always wanted me. Submissive.

Apparently he approves because he says, “Better.”

Turning his attention to the men behind me, Jerome waves his fingers at them, dismissing them as casually as he would brush away a fly. They don’t like it. They don’t like him. Can I leverage that? Or would it make things worse? I don’t trust my judgement. I don’t know what to do.

I want to save Beth. She deserves so much better than this. But Jerome hates her; he’s told me that often enough. Hates her independence and for speaking her mind. I can live through what’s about to happen to me, but Beth will struggle. She’ll fight and be beaten into submission. When she finally breaks… I shudder, unable to bear the thought of it. I remember the goon’s words just before he pulled the trigger that ended his life… there are things worse than death.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask him quietly, still meek in front of him, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Cold. Hard. Cash. I didn’t realize sex could be so lucrative. Besides, you seem to like fucking” he growls out the word “so much recently that this job seems right up your alley.”

Bastard.

He grabs my arm and pulls me behind him, walking us to a concrete wall. I look around, wondering what is happening. He moves aside a little panel that I didn’t even notice was there. He taps in some numbers—I catch 9723. There was another one, but I missed it.

To my amazement, the entire wall begins to shift. Very slowly, but it grinds its way open. Beyond it is a staircase heading down into hell. A red light filtering up from the bottom gives it a hellish appearance.

“Please don’t do this,” I beg.

“Why not?” he says as he drags me through the open door. He turns and punches in the code again. I watch more carefully this time—97234. I commit it to memory, giving me one thing to hold on to.

“It’s wrong.”

“Only for you.”

He drags me down the concrete steps and a huge hallway opens up at the bottom. He pushes me down it.

“Steph!”

Oh my god. It’s Beth, her hands reaching through the bars she’s been caged in. I break away from Jerome and run to her, clinging to her through the bars.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, stroking the bruise on the side of her face.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry.” I crumble then, unable to say more.

“I love you, Steph,” she says and strokes my tears away.

“Oh Beth, I love you too.”

“Hate to break up this little reunion, but I’ve got a schedule to keep.” He yanks at my arm, but Beth doesn’t let me go. We cling to each other through her prison and I whisper, “97234, door” in her ear. I say it again and she nods. I have no idea if the opportunity for either of us to use it will ever present itself.

The phones!

I remember they are both in my pockets; I still can’t believe they’ve not taken them from me. They must be so secure in their plan, they must not see the phones as a threat. As covertly as I can, I slip a hand into my shorts and pass it to her through the bars. I don’t trust it to work, but you never know.

Jerome yanks at me again. Harder. Impatient.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say, nearly choking on the lie.

“Piece of cake.” She smiles and lets go of me, giving me her brave face. I give her my best brave face too. But I hear her begin to cry as I’m yanked away.

Six cells down, Jerome opens a door and then bows and waves me in. “Your accommodation, my queen.” I lift my chin and move to walk past him. At the last second I whirl, taking him off guard. I push him into the cell, the element of surprise my only leverage. I try to slam the cell shut on him, but he reacts quickly and blocks it from closing with his shoe. I slam harder and he reaches through the bars, grabbing my hair and pulling me hard, face first, into the bars.

I shove a shoe against the bottom of the door, desperately trying to keep it shut. He’s slamming his shoulder into it while not letting go of my hair. I’m losing the battle, the door inching open; my hair is coming out in his hand. I’m able to turn my head and sink my teeth into his arm. He howls and lets me go.

I turn and run and his force bangs the door open and he tumbles out into the hallway.

I run as if the devil is after me. “I’m coming back,” I scream as I pass Beth’s cell.

“Go!” she’s screaming too and I hit the stairs full-force. Turning the corner, I get a glimpse of Beth sticking her leg out of the bars, just enough to trip Jerome up and have him crashing down again.

I’m at the top and punch in the code. The door begins to open with maddening slowness. I hear his feet hit the steps, but the door is only open a few inches, not wide enough for me to slide through.

“You bitch!” Jerome roars; he’s ten steps away. My arm and shoulder is through the crack. Just a little more. I suck in and slide through just as Jerome’s hand grabs my shoulder. But he’s too late to get a grip and I’m able to get the rest of the way through. I hit the ‘stop’ button and the door halts its movement. He can’t get through. I can’t celebrate; he can open it again easily enough on the other side.

Spotting a side door, I sprint in that direction.

“I’ll kill you.” I don’t take the time to look back and see if Jerome has gotten through. I hit the door, pushing the flat handle that forces it open. Before I realize I’m out and hit a wall.

The wind is knocked out of me and I’m knock backwards onto the ground. Dazed, I look up and see a mountain of a man standing over me.

I scramble to my feet and am instantly pinned to the wall.

Beside the huge man, a woman appears. Ice blonde hair and features so stunning they seem unreal.

“Help me! Please!” I beg, as the door I just rushed through is opened again. It’s Jerome and he comes up short in the presence of the other people.

“Can I not trust you with the simplest of things,” the blonde says to Jerome and his jaw tightens, but his eyes lower to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but she ignores him.

Instead, she steps closer to me and smiles. “On a positive note, they like them feisty where you’re going.”

Chapter 17 - Jerome

“I’m sorry, Anna,” I say for the tenth time in the past few minutes. I really am. I nearly fucked everything up.

She holds up her hand, rage flashing in her eyes. “Don’t say another word.” I open my mouth and she glares. “Not one. I have not built an empire for you, a bumbling idiot, to fuck it up.”

I start to cry and hate myself for it.

Anna glares as me again. “You’re pathetic. How did I ever think you had potential?”

Her words are knives and everything I’ve heard throughout my life begins to echo in my head:

You’re stupid.

Yuck. You can’t play with us.

Don’t pick Jerome the faggot. We’ll lose for sure.

“Can I trust you to watch these girls while I meet the client? Or should I hire a ten year-old to do that?” she snaps. She walks out of my office and into the hallway. “They are, after all, locked up and shackled now. Surely even you can’t mess this up. Right?”

I follow her. “Right, Anna. I won’t let you down.”

She turns to look at me and runs her tongue across her teeth, a women’s universal ‘I’m pissed off’ movement. She stares at me. And stares. I swallow, but I don’t say anything else.

“Very well. I’ll be back by midnight at the latest.”

I look at my watch. It’s a little past nine p.m.

“Make sure they are bathed and changed into the clothes I brought for them.” She raises a finger and points it at the tip of my nose. “Keep them shackled, do you understand.”