Watching You: KJ Elite Inc. (39 page)

Tommy perked up a little and carefully examined the entire board from top corner to bottom corner.

“When are we moving? What’s the plan?”

“Candace and Peyton already went to go check it out. They’re going to do some ground work, check on the lead and follow up with further instructions.”

He didn’t have to like it, but he did have to live with it. Regardless of his position, he wasn’t calling the shots and wasn’t around to hash it out with Mike when the time came.

Was his judgement clouded by his love for Taylor and need to protect her? Yes. Was it going to stop him from getting the job done? Hell.No.

Candace was capable and Mike was on a mission – literally and figuratively. Knowing them, they would work like a well-oiled machine, together.

Peyton walked into the war room, bit into an apple and casually inspected Tommy.

“You fuck it up, yet?”

“You mean, again.” Noah corrected him.

“Hey, peanut gallery…” He started to say.

“Don’t yall have anything better to do than talk about us?” Taylor scolded them through slits for eyes.

“Nope, not really.” Peyton answered, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Let’s go. All able bodies get strapped, we move in five.” Charlie boomed, jogging past the war room. 

Taylor looked up at Tommy, eyes wide but trying to hide her concern.

“I’m coming.” She said, laying her foot down at the same time Tommy decreed, “You will stay here.”

Noah and Peyton made for a hasty exit before all hell broke loose.

“Bullshit. I’m a damn good shot, which makes me an able body.”

“Tay, I need you here or I cannot do my job.”

“Please, enlighten me.” She quirked an eyebrow at him, hands on her hips, one hip cocked to the side.

“Baby, I don’t have time for this. I have to go or they will leave without me.”

He was edging to the door like their brothers. If he could make it, he could (very temporarily) lock her in the war room while he made his way out.

Taylor looked ready to pounce but Luke sounded from the command station, his face popping onto the screen.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovers quarrel, but Tay, I need you to stay back and guide us. I will walk you through it but I can’t really do what I need to from my phone.”

Tommy knew he was feeding her a line considering how one of the SUV’s was nspecially outfitted with techie gear for him, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

She huffed out and took a deep breath answering, “fine”. A few other expletives followed under her breath. Tommy walked into her and pulled her close. A hard kiss to the top of her head and a whispered “I love you” was all he gave her before striding out of the room with purpose.

* * *

She started counting again – counted the bumps, the sounds of cars passing, the spots in her vision. Anything to keep her from losing consciousness again. First it was consciousness then it was her sanity.

It had been months and no one had even tried to find her. Her skin was dry and chaffed, burning at her wrists from the ropes that bound her to bigger chains; same for her lips, chaffed and dry. It had been at least a full day since she had any water and probably three days since he gave her any food. She could feel her body losing its fight – this was it. He was finally going to let her die; she was ready for it.

The man was psychotic. He took pleasure in torturing her; while he never touched her sexually, he smacked her around, threatened to do unspeakable things to her and kept her here, locked in a tow trailer while he moved her around, constantly. She thought that she might be a pawn, something he could bargain for, or maybe he just wanted ransom flat out. One time he slipped and mentioned Taylor and Matt, even someone named Tommy but upon realizing it, he backhanded her and ignored her for four days; he came just as she began to die from dehydration and starvation hooking her up to an IV after sedating her and brought her back from the brink of death. A cruel bastard.

Jamie had been a model, world class, but now she was skin and bones and going to die all alone. There was no one to report her being gone, no one to give a damn. Taylor knew she would be in Rome for a while but the last time they spoke, Jamie had joked that she was going to run off to an island and spend weeks just sitting on a beach drinking fruity cocktails with little umbrellas in them. Matt didn’t give a damn one way or the other, he was just a fun guy to flirt with.

There was no space to move around and keeping her eyes closed helped her to imagine herself somewhere else, any fucking where else, but in this tiny, depraved space. If she thought of her surroundings, it was like being fourteen again and she could almost feel the welts all over her body, even on her cheeks. The beatings first and then the isolation – to think about what she had done wrong. In the darkest hours, she would even count the heartbeats she could feel reverberating through the welts left by the leather belt.

The movement had stopped and she jostled herself from her dreams of Maui; she had done a shoot there once and almost bought a house on the beach with her pay from that particular job. As much as she feared the small space, she was coming to fear the man more. It was thrilling and utterly terrifying – to be ridding herself of her oldest, deepest, darkest secrets and fears… only to trade them for more.

“I’m going to open this door and if you so much as turn this way, I will have to punish you – you don’t want that, do you?” His southern drawl always asked like he was doing her a favor. She just wished he’d kill her already.

The door crept open and a dim lamp in the abandoned parking lot shone what little light it held on the floor of the trailer.

Chains sparkled on the floor and wall; chains that were attached to her, keeping her in one place. She hadn’t even had a pot to piss in. The degrading feeling lasted until her second month, then she realized that she wasn’t going anywhere and had to do what she had to, no matter the circumstances. Fortunately for her, he got tired of having to clean the floor around her and said the smell was making him sick, so he gave her a bucket.

He would also untie her and hold her at knife point, making her take care of it herself.

Tonight though, tonight would be the last time. She had made up her mind and she was either going to escape, or die from a knife to the neck.

* * *

Tommy could see Taylor wearing holes in the floor of the war room, just behind Luke’s “captain’s chair”. Apparently it was a hilarious joke, because Luke got out as a Captain and because it was actually a captain’s chair. Turns out he also hated that his brothers named every.fucking.thing. The chair was dubbed “Sir Luke’s swivel stick”.

“Stop staring at me.” She mumbled around her thumb. He was pretty sure she didn’t have any nail left there. Taylor must have read his thoughts because she swapped it for the other hand.

“Just relax, baby.”

“Does anyone else find it odd that you’re on the mission, about to be in the heat of things, and you’re telling
me
to relax?” She scoffed and blew a stray hair out of her face.

She was exhausted, hardly sated after six years of celibacy and stressed beyond belief.

Luke and Peyton, Charlie and Noah, Mike, Matt and Tommy, hell even Candace were all trained for this (though that hardly made it easier for her) but what about Jamie. If she really was finally found, what shape would she be in? Though he already knew.

It was the biggest reason Taylor wanted to be there; so she could wrap her arms around Jamie, cover her up in her love and bring her best friend home. Though he suspected she also really wanted to make sure they didn’t put a bullet in Dillon’s head. Taylor had made that decision, that he would live, only a few months or so after the ordeal, but man did he ever question it. When she saw Jamie’s condition, she would, too.

They were fast approaching the giant red bullseye that Luke’s GPS system had targeted for them, but slowed to a crawl it seemed when they came up under it. They had to do this tactically – smart – or Dillon would get away, yet again, and take Jamie with him.

“If we go black, leave it alone. We will make contact when we are clear. IF you do not hear from us by dawn, you call Smitty. He has all of the specifics, okay?” This from Luke. The command in his voice seemed natural but so polar opposite from what everyone knew growing up. If any of the Kane men could be called as such, Luke was definitely the hippie; love, peace, no violence, a chilled out dude.

Taylor swallowed over the golf ball sized lump in her throat and nodded her head vigorously.

“I love you.” She said, impulsively. Tommy knew she meant it, but her inexperience of these situations was gnawing at her inner-peace.

Tommy replied but she shook her head, “All of you.”

They comforted her and smiled but she was clearly fighting back tears. This could seriously get ugly. Here there was only one of Dillon and a whole team of badasses but Dillon had something they didn’t; he had Taylor’s only female friend who just happened to be one of her best friends. He had Jamie. A hostage could make for a very volatile battlefield, no matter the odds.

Taylor flamboyantly flopped herself down into Luke’s chair and looked up to the ceiling; he knew she was saying another silent prayer. There was nothing for her to do but wait now.

A third screen had the view from a driver or front seat passenger perspective; she could see what they were approaching. An old abandoned truck stop – lots of space, nothing nearby and no one to witness anything. Fucking fantastic.

Her eyes played pong between the outside cam and the team’s movement.

The area seemed totally desolate but through the view of Tommy’s go pro, she could see an older, maroon SUV with a trailer hooked to the toe hitch. That’s where Tommy’s money was, on finding Jamie. It was smart and fucking disgusting to know a human could be detained in there against her will. Though he had seen much worse.

This was what had Tommy’s blood drumming through his body, coursed with that sweet adrenaline. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, soaking in the anxiety; so bittersweet. In times of combat, it was Taylor’s face that pushed him to fight, to give it his every last thing he had; it was no different tonight. This was for Taylor, for Matt, for Jamie and even for him because Jamie was a part of Taylor’s family and that meant she was a part of his.

Where Tommy missed the rush of a combat environment, he knew that he was where he was supposed to be. Keeping with the new family business allowed him to keep this high feeling flowing through his veins and still be near his family; with Taylor forevermore.

His eyes flew open after solidifying his war face. Tommy made the signal to the teams to flank and winked at the screen before turning and jumping out of the back of the SUV. It was now or never because Dillon was getting really good at playing ghost. It ended tonight. The last thing Tommy did before letting the warrior in him take over was mute the mic on Taylor’s end. She was not going to be happy with the turnabout of coming events.

Mike, Charlie and Candace took the path around the parking lot that brought them to the right of the vehicle while Noah, Peyton, Matt and Tommy held steady under cover to the left of the vehicle. The few minutes it took to get everyone in place was a risk but it was what they had to do to make this a successful mission. Flanking from the rear and front of the truck would only result in someone getting run over if Dillon tried to flee; approaching from the sides enabled them easy shots on the tires if that were to happen.

Tommy scanned the parking lot through the dim lighting but couldn’t see much. He signaled to Noah, making as little movement as possible, signing to him, “You see anything?” Noah had the night vision goggles on and gave a pass over the lot, tensing up ever so slightly and nodding.

He whispered, “Two figures male and female with ...bucket? Male with knife and side piece.”

“How far?”

“30 meters from front of truck beside building.”

“Got it.”

“Roger.” Mike acknowledged. All of them were sporting mics and earpieces.

Tommy took all of three seconds to debate on whether or not Dillon was wearing a vest; if he was smart, he would be but if he wasn’t, that was just a bonus for Tommy. Game over, easy clean up and they’d be on their way. Tommy slipped on his NVG’s, recounted his odds, placed his bet and took a shot; top of Dillon’s chest to the left – nothing too major to damage if he placed it just right. He was counting on landing it in his right pec; a clean through and through that would disable him just long enough for them to surround him and collar him.

In what seemed like slow motion, the bullet surged forward, straight into Dillon’s chest. Jamie didn’t even make a sound, but stood there stock still as if waiting to take the next bullet. He was very impressed with her composure; she should have been screaming her beautiful head off. The teams broke their cover and rushed toward the two of them, weapons drawn. Tommy learned quickly that you never drop your weapon until you’re certain the danger is gone.

Dillon defied the odds and lunged to his feet, wrapping an arm around Jamie’s neck and held the knife against her jugular. Fuck. Everyone came to a halt 100 feet from them, waiting for his next move.