Chapter Twenty
Unable to sleep, Marcus had risen at dawn and tried to prepare questions for a witness in his next court case. Useless. He couldn"t concentrate. He picked up the phone in his home office and punched in Gabi"s number. Still no answer.
Damn the little sub, walking out of the club without even a good-bye or have a nice life or anything. Damn Celine too. After handing him his drink and saying Gabi was using the restroom, she"d started in with her “you"re my master” bullshit. She probably wouldn"t pull that again, since he"d called over some doms and told them she was looking for a master.
Finally freed up, he"d gone to find his missing sub, only to discover she"d left.
He rubbed his face wearily. He"d almost called Z to demand Gabi"s address, but showing up at her home might screw up the FBI investigation. She"d best get her pretty ass out of bed and answer her phone.
Why had she left like that?
Maybe, with her assignment concluded, she figured they were done with each other. She"d be wrong.
Hands laced behind his head, he leaned back in his office chair. Smiling, he remembered how she"d blown out the candle for wax play. Little brat. He needed to convince her to remain another week—and stay here with him. If he could win a jury over, you"d think he could argue a case for himself. Or he might could wrangle some vacation time from the DA and visit Miami.
No, sugar, we’re not done.
When his phone rang, he picked it up, anticipation rising. No one would call him this early, except maybe a repentant trainee. “Hello.”
“Marcus, is Gabrielle with you?” Z"s voice.
Disappointment gave way to concern. “No, she isn"t. Why?”
“She"s not answering her phone, neither is her backup from last night. The agent coming on duty says she"s not in her apartment, but her car"s in the parking lot.”
Marcus was on his feet with no memory of standing. He forced a breath. Get the facts, Atherton, before going off half-cocked. “Maybe she and the agent went for a walk?”
“Apparently the next man would get notified of their location.”
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A cold hand squeezed Marcus"s spine at the implication. “Are you at her place?”
“On my way. Galen and Vance are there.”
“Give me the address.”
Twenty minutes later, Marcus pulled in to the parking lot of Gabi"s apartment complex. Three-story building, dull brown, no landscaping. It hurt him to think of her living here. He squinted at the numbers on the doors and spotted hers.
A light rain spattered against him as he ran across the lot. He veered around a small Taurus parked in the fire lane and took the steps two at a time.
Gabi"s apartment stood open, a man in a dark suit blocking the door. “Let him in,” Z called from inside.
Marcus pushed past the man.
Vance and another man were in the living space. Z stood in the tiny kitchen area, his face drawn with exhaustion. “Marcus.”
“News?” Marcus asked.
“Nothing good.” Z kneaded his neck. “That"s Jessica"s car in front. Unlocked.
Her purse is in it. Her phone too. She"s not answering at home.”
Marcus stared at him. “Both of them are missing?”
Galen stepped out of the bedroom. He carefully used his foot to push a cat back and closed the door behind him. He nodded to Marcus and spoke to everyone. “I called in. The tracking devices are operating, but they"re worthless. Both Gabrielle"s shoes and purse are still in her car.”
“No chance you"ve made a mistake?” Marcus asked.
Galen gave a bitter glance at a set of keys on the kitchen table. “Vance found Gabi"s apartment keys on the sidewalk by the steps.”
The fury rising in Marcus"s veins was matched by sheer fear. Where are you, Gabi?
* * *
“You gonna scream again, bitch? We"re in the middle of a swamp—won"t do you much good.” In a tank top and jeans, a repulsive man with pitted skin and stringy black hair stepped up into the van, rocking it with his weight. Gabi saw the gang tattoos covering his arms and almost panicked again.
His mouth twisted in an ugly grin as he stared at Gabi, his gaze lingering on her breasts. “Cesar knows I like it when bitches scream.”
Her heart hammering, Gabi stared past him and out the van door. Oaks with hanging moss, thick underbrush, a dirt road. Silent except for the dripping of water from the trees and a few bird calls. She glanced at Jessica and saw her unhappy comprehension. No one would come to investigate their screams.
The man called Cesar stepped into the van and pulled the door down behind him. Dyed blonde hair, mud brown eyes, just under six feet, and thickly muscled.
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He wore overalls with an appliance store brand. “I don"t like cleaning up my van when you chickies piss in your clothes, so use the porta-potty now. You won"t get another chance till you"re on the boat.”
“What"s going on? Where are we?” Jessica asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Cesar snorted. “Always the same questions. You"re getting sold to buyers who will appreciate your special…qualities.”
“Now?” Fear combined with the nausea from the drugs, and Gabi"s stomach roiled. How much time do we have?
“Soon enough. A boat"ll pick you up in downtown Clearwater in a couple of hours. We"ll be on our way in a bit.”
“Then what?”
He shrugged. “Don"t know. Don"t care.” He glanced at the other man. “Jang, one at a time. I"ll cover.” He patted the Taser holstered on his belt.
When Jang pulled a key from his jeans pocket, Gabi saw the outline of a cell phone. Her nostrils flared as if she could scent hope. A phone.
“You first, bitch.” When his eyes raked over her, Gabi"s skin crawled. “We gonna have us some fun on the drive. I am, at least. You"re gonna scream.” He grabbed her wrists and shoved his other hand in her corset.
Without thinking, she kicked him in the balls as hard as she could.
He made a horrible high-pitched sound as he staggered sideways. His legs gave out, dropping him to his knees as he clutched his groin, gagging and sucking air.
Gabi pulled her legs back, the momentary sense of victory eclipsed by fear.
Then she raised her chin. She"d pay for kicking him…but it had been worth it.
When Jang moaned, the other guy gave a nasty laugh. “You forget we divided the cuffs so each bitch got one set? Legs are free, you f*cking idiot. Now move it.”
Jang pushed to his feet, his gait unsteady, his face pale. He detoured around her legs. Before she could move, he grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the side of the van.
Pain ripped through her head in a searing explosion. Her stomach turned over, and she gagged.
“Shit.” Jang released her and stepped away hastily.
“F*ckhead.” Cesar made a sound of disgust. “It still stinks from the last one puking her guts out. Just let her piss and lock her back up.”
Growling, Jang unlocked one cuff, yanked the chain free, and hefted her to her feet. He shoved her toward the portable toilet.
She let herself stagger, which wasn"t hard considering she felt dizzier than hell. Turning to sit on the commode, she deliberately fell forward, knocking into him. As he staggered back, he grabbed her upper arms. With Jang"s body blocking the other man"s view, Gabi thumped her head on his chest to divert his attention, and slid her hand into his pocket.
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Her fingers closed around the phone.
She dropped onto the toilet, hiding the phone in her hand and hunching over her stomach as if she needed to throw up. And if her head got any worse, she might.
After a quick breath, she lifted her head and glared at Jessica. “What are you staring at, you loser? This is all your fault.”
Both men turned to look at Jessica.
The blonde"s mouth dropped open.
Hell. Catching Jessica"s gaze, Gabi mouthed, Yell.
Jessica blinked. But she caught on fast. “My fault? You"re the skanky bitch who tried to steal my man.” She yanked at her restraints.
While the men"s attention was on Jessica, Gabi shoved the phone into her corset, hiding it between her breasts. Then, taking her time, trying to get her stomach to settle, she did her business, humiliated at the sound.
Still walking bowlegged, Jang hauled Gabi off the toilet, locked her back up, and gave Jessica a turn.
Leaning back, Gabi watched under her lashes, praying no one called Jang"s phone. She figured, no matter how dumb he was, he might notice if ringing noises came from her breasts. To her relief, they simply chained Jessica up, walked to the front, and shut the door to the cab section behind them.
The engine started with a rumble, and the van pulled out.
Gabi frowned. The door between the cargo section and the cab held a tiny window. They could see into the back, but probably not easily since the only light came from that window. Why have a door at all?
Her stomach twisted. Probably so no one on the street could look through the windshield and see the handcuffed women. Her breath hitched. No. Can’t panic now.
“What"s with all the acting?” Jessica whispered. She must not have seen Gabi pick his pocket.
If you’re watching from the other side, Danny—thank you for the lessons.
“I got his cell.” Head splitting with pain, Gabi fumbled around the restrictions of the short length of chain and handcuffs, finally managing to fish the phone out of her corset. She punched in 911. Busy.
Tried again. Busy.
Dammit all. She put in Rhodes"s number. No answer. “I don"t remember Galen"s number. Give me Z"s number.”
Jessica reeled off a number. No one answered, and Gabi used voice mail, trying to be clear. Kidnapped. Clearwater. Docks. Cargo van.
“Describe the guys—tell them about the tattoos,” Jessica whispered. Gabi did and finished, telling him not to call the cell"s number. She put it on silent too…just in case.
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“Shit, shit, shit.” Jessica gave Gabi the number to his office.
Another voice mail, dammit. Gabi left the same message, then deleted the phone log. “Let me try 911 again.” She punched in 9, then 1—
“I can"t find my f*cking phone!” Jang yelled in the cab.
Gabi felt the blood drain from her face. Oh God.
The van pulled over and stopped. Heart pounding, Gabi unsilenced the cell and slid it across the floor. It stopped beside the porta-potty. She slumped, trying to control her breathing.
The door to the cab burst open and hit the wall with a crack that made her insides cringe. Light from the windshield highlighted Jang"s body as he stepped into the back. “Where is it, you f*cking bitches?”
Gabi mirrored Jessica"s baffled expression.
“Fine, I"ll find it myself.” He still walked as if his balls hurt. Avoiding her feet, he yanked Gabi sideways until the restraints pulled her arms straight. The handcuffs dug into her raw wrists. He tugged at her corset unsuccessfully, cursed, and started to unhook it.
Gabi struggled futilely, sick with revulsion. With fear. When her corset opened halfway, Jang grabbed her breast.
When he touched her, her thoughts fragmented with terror. She couldn"t move, couldn"t breathe.
“What"s taking so long?” Cesar stepped into the back and glared at Jang. “You a*shole, I don"t have time for this crap.” Pulling out his own cell, he punched in a number…and the phone by the commode buzzed softly. “You clumsy f*ck, it"s over there.”
“Fine.” Jang squeezed Gabi"s breast viciously. “Consider this a sample for later,” he whispered and shoved her against the metal wall.
She grunted as she hit, and tears filled her eyes. Please, someone, get us out of this.
After retrieving his phone, Jang hit a few buttons, obviously checking the outgoing calls.
Not moving, Gabi watched, thanking God she"d erased the numbers she"d dialed. Her head pounded; her shoulder and wrists and breast throbbed with pain.
If he came back for her, she might cry. Her jaw clenched. No. No, she wouldn"t.
With a shrug, he told Cesar, “We"re good.”
“Yeah, good thing for you, f*ckup.” Cesar motioned him into the cab and followed.
“You okay?” Jessica whispered.
Gabi nodded, grateful she wasn"t totally alone. Not that it would matter.
Leaning her head on the wall, she stared at her wrists, at the mangled flesh and purpling bruising under the metal handcuffs. Blood smeared the metal floor.
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Maybe that"s why Marcus only used leather cuffs. She remembered how he"d stand close enough that her every breath brought her his masculine scent, how he"d hold her arm with a firm, warm grip while he ran a finger under the cuff to make sure it wasn"t too tight. She"d look up to see him watching her intently. His lips would curve—just barely those first few days, then more. The last two nights, he"d had a different smile: one that said he knew her, all of her—the possessive smile of a man who"d had a woman and intended to have her again.
Each time, even though she wouldn"t move at all, she"d yearn toward him.
Toward his possession. No longer make me, Sir, but take me, Sir.
And now she"d never see him again.
A slave. Would they break her? Maybe? Or maybe she"d die first, her body as mangled as her wrists, her voice gone from screaming. A shudder seized her. She wasn"t especially afraid to die. Everybody did, sooner or later. But the thought of what came before death, that someone would deliberately inflict horrible, crushing pain on her… As her hands trembled, the blood oozing from her wrists splattered on the floor.
Okay, I’m terrified. They could so easily turn her into a panicking, mindless animal. I don’t want that again. So she"d damn well do absolutely everything she could to escape, no matter how small the chance. No point in waiting and hoping for something better to come.
And if she managed to attract attention, then maybe—even if she died—maybe Kim or Jessica might get rescued.
Her spine straightened. Pretty weak plan, but it helped take her another step away from losing control. I’m more than an animal.
As the truck rumbled down the road, she mentally pulled up her big-girl panties—and she really, really wished she"d worn panties rather than a thong—and turned to Jessica. “You know, I had all these great insults to use at the Shadowlands, but I forgot to yell them at Jang. Wanna hear them?”
Jessica stared at her, then sucked in a shaky breath and grinned. “Sure. I"ll trade you some of my favorites.”
“Cool. My favorite is: Your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory.”
“Nah. Jang"s too stupid to get the meaning.” Jessica thought. “How about: Why don"t you check eBay and see if they have a life for sale?”
Gabi grinned. “Not bad. Hmm—oh, I know… Is that your face or did your neck just throw up.”
The sputter of laughter Jessica gave made Gabi"s heart lighten. It was good not to be alone.
* * *
In increasing frustration, Zachary watched as the FBI agents tried to find something, anything to point them in the right direction. Dammit, where would the Masters of the Shadowlands 5: Make Me, Sir
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pickup happen? His fear for Jessica knotted his guts until he stood and paced the kitchen. Again.
From the bedroom came the sound of plaintive meows. He"d been in there earlier, holding and petting the two felines while Vance searched the apartment.
The cats wanted Gabrielle. Maybe as much as he wanted Jessica. He ran his hand through his hair, craving her so badly his arms ached. Needing to shake her silly for scaring him, to hold her and let her know what she meant to him. All he could think about was how unhappy she"d been last night. Because of him.
He stared at his hands, useless with no target in sight. This not knowing…not being able to act…
On the decrepit sofa, Galen had his bad leg extended. As he talked on his cell phone, his face slowly reddened with anger, and his low voice sharpened to such a cutting edge that the other person probably had blood pooling at his feet. With a low curse, the agent snapped the phone closed and called over one of the local agents.
“Campbell, meet Rhodes at your office. Grill him for anything he saw last night.”
“What happened to him?” Campbell asked. “Why isn"t he here? Is he okay?
Where"s Ms. Renard?”
Galen"s eyes had darkened to total black. “The f*cking a*shole says Gabrielle lost her temper and punched him. Broke his nose. He spent the night in an ER, waiting to get it set.”
Campbell stared. “He left her and didn"t call in?”
“What kind of training do your agents have?” Marcus snapped.
Galen took the verbal hit without wincing. “He thought the investigation was over. Last night an agent assigned to another decoy caught a man attacking a woman behind the St. Pete club. The woman was knocked unconscious during the fight, and Thompson believed he"d got the unsub. He called Rhodes to gloat.”
“It wasn"t the kidnapper?” Zachary asked, already knowing the answer.
“Just a couple from the club wanting to play out a rape scenario. Once the woman woke up and explained, we released the man. But Thompson didn"t bother to call Rhodes back.”
“So Rhodes is free and clear?” Marcus"s hands had fisted. Zachary gave him a warning look.
“No, Marcus,” Vance said. “No matter what, he should have arranged coverage for her. We"ll deal with him later.”
Marcus stilled and visibly forced himself to relax. “I overreacted, gentlemen.
Please forgive me.”
Galen gave him a thin smile. “Consider him dead meat, Marcus. You have my word.”
Zachary turned and paced back across the room, his need to do something ratcheting up another notch. Do anything—take the car and yell their names at every corner. Dammit, Jessica.
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With the noise of the various conversations, Zachary at first didn"t hear the music coming from the bedroom. Mangione"s “Feels So Good.” His cell"s ringtone.
“No!”
He tore across the apartment, shoved the door open, tripping over the cats and somehow managing to kick the door shut behind him before they escaped. He grabbed his jacket from the bed and yanked the cell out of the pocket.
The ringing stopped. No, dammit.
He flipped the phone open. One message. He almost listened, then forced himself to return to the others before punching Play.
“Z.” Gabrielle"s voice. Hoarse. Strained.
“Silence!” he snapped at the others. He set it on speaker and turned the volume up.
“He got us—me and Jessica. Taser and drugs. We"re in a big van—cargo-sized.
A boat is picking us up at the Clearwater Docks, downtown, in about two hours.”
Zachary heard a whisper. Jessica"s voice saying something about tattoos. His heart thumped hard enough to hurt. She was alive.
Gabi"s message continued, “Two men. They call each other Cesar and Jang.
Jang has gang tattoos covering his arms. Don"t call this number back. It"s their phone.”
Silence.
Galen was already on the phone, barking orders. Vance had his cell out but paused to look at Marcus and Z. “Most women would be in hysterics. Those two are keeping it together. Thinking. Give me a brat any day.” He handed Zachary a slip of paper with a number scrawled on it. “Forward the message to this number for a sound analysis. I doubt we"ll get anything useful, but we"ll try.”
Zachary nodded.
Marcus tapped his fingers on the table for a second. Then he glanced at Zachary and lowered his voice. “I"m not waiting for them to say I can"t help. I"m leaving now.”
Zachary checked the agents, occupied with their planning. “I"ll drive.”
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