Return to Me (13 page)

“Aw shit. She’s just gonna lay there.”

Crude laughter sounded above her. “Yeah, but when they’re quiet like that, it makes for a easier screw.”

Another foot nudged her, even harder. “She’s about the skinniest one we’ve had. Good thing they don’t charge us by the pound.”

Dread and nausea slammed into her at the words. Frozen on the ground, Samara lay there while panic, fear, and rage twisted within her.

“Come on, little girl.”

Yanked up by her hair, Samara screamed with pain and fury. The world lurched as she swayed drunkenly on her feet. Her vision blurred and thick, she made out the outline of two men, one oversized and one average. Before she could comprehend anything about her surroundings, the biggest man pulled her to him and threw her over his shoulder.

Hanging upside down, Samara squirmed and beat against his back as nausea almost overwhelmed her fear.

Hard fingers pinched her butt. “Be still.”

As they walked, Samara forced herself to concentrate on their conversation. If she heard something she could use to escape, she had every intention of using it.

“You know what you’re going to say?”

“Yeah … like we talked about. The bitch screamed out for somebody named Noah. We shot the bastard and two others in the parking lot. KJ and Billy both took hits and they’re dead.”

So it was true. Noah was dead. As she bounced against her abductor’s back, tears poured from her eyes as grief seared her. Samara made a silent vow to avenge Noah’s death in some way.

“But we don’t know if KJ and Billy are dead. The radio just said several dead. We don’t know if that included them.”

“They looked dead to me. … You gonna tell him we left ’em without checking?”

The large man blew out a ragged sigh. “No, but he’s going to want to know what went wrong.”

“Hell man, you were there, too. You tell me. One minute the bitch was coming right at us and then she screamed. We didn’t have any other choice than to pop the pricks.”

The giant holding her rubbed her butt, then pinched it again. “Sure as hell hope she’s worth the trouble.”

“She’s so small, she can’t be more than fourteen or fifteen. I heard that the big boss is getting upwards of ten thousand for the real young ones. Bet nobody’s even popped her cherry yet.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Sure wish they’d let us. We’re the ones taking all the risks.”

The big man holding her stopped abruptly. “Hell man, why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do that. I’d let you have her back there.”

Her heart stopped. Was it about to happen? Was she about to be brutally raped by these two gorillas?

“Naw, she’s too scrawny for me. … I like that bitch we got a few weeks ago. … You know, Lara something or the other … the one with the big tits.”

Samara closed her eyes at the small reprieve. The longer she could hold out, the better her chances of surviving and escaping this nightmare. Though upside down and fighting through nausea and terror, she’d been able to look around. They were in a heavily wooded area. Where, she had no idea. Were they still in Alabama? How long had she been unconscious? Hours most likely since she’d been knocked out around midnight. The sun was shining bright in the sky, so the chances of her being even close to Birmingham were slim.

The one holding her froze with tension and came to a grinding halt. “There’s the boss. Damn, he looks pissed, too.”

“Hell, it ain’t our fault. He’s the one who set this up.”

“You want to tell me what the hell happened?” The deep voice, thick with a southern drawl, sounded strangely familiar. Where had she heard that voice before?

The big man shrugged, almost dislodging Samara from his shoulder. “Hell, boss, we just did what you told us to do. Go get the bitch … is what you said. It ain’t our fault somebody come with her.”

“She brought someone with her?” Funnily enough, he sounded insulted.

“Yeah, some guy named Noah.”

“Shit! Noah McCall.”

Their boss had evidently heard of Noah. So if he knew about LCR, would he automatically realize she was a plant … bait for them? What did that mean for her? Would she be punished … treated more severely since she’d double-crossed them?

“Bring her on in here and let’s tag her. Then we’ll figure out what we need to do.” She heard footsteps going away from her, then he stopped. “Where’s KJ and Billy?”

“They got kilt, boss.”

“And you just left them there?”

“Well, we had to. The police were sure to show up, so we took the bitch and ran.”

The man blew out a disgusted sigh. “Did you at least take care of the man with her?”

“Yeah, shot him up good.”

“Did you kill him?”

There was a long pause and the man beside her mumbled, “We think so.”

“Idiots. Get in here.”

Though filled with terror of what was about to happen, Samara knew a brilliant triumph. Noah might not be dead. He could still be alive and if he was, he would do everything he could to rescue her.

She vowed to stay alive, do whatever it took, enduring whatever she had to. Yes, she would try to escape when the opportunity arose, but just knowing Noah would be looking for her too gave her hope. And Samara desperately needed hope.

They entered a building and she felt a slight, quick relief when her captor pulled her off his shoulder and dropped her to the floor. Trying with all her might not to cower, to be brave, courageous, and strong, Samara flipped her long hair out of her face and raised furious eyes to the man responsible for so much misery.

Every muscle, cell, and nerve in her body went still with shock. The man with the familiar voice had the eyes of a cold-blooded killer and a smirk of pure evil. That wasn’t what filled her with horror.

The man leering down at her had the face of Noah McCall.

After splashing his face with water and swallowing a handful of aspirin, Noah emerged from the bathroom, filled with the cold, hard determination he was famous for. Jordan and Eden were in the living room, pacing, planning, and arguing.

Gripping the doorjamb, Noah interrupted with a growl, “Tell me what’s been done so far.”

Though glaring at Noah as if he’d rather beat the hell out of him than talk, Jordan nevertheless knew what the priorities were. “We used our contacts to cover the shooting. Took our injured men to a hospital. The authorities, as usual, are helping us keep it out of the press.

“The two we captured are at a warehouse. One of them was damned close to dying, so we had to bring in one of our doctors. I just got a call that the bastard’s escaped into a coma, so we can’t get anything from him. The other one sustained a flesh wound in his arm and a concussion, so he’s got plenty of life in him. Gabe’s working on him, but he can’t get squat.”

“What’s the press reporting?” Noah asked.

“We kept it vague. Bar brawl, several killed.”

Noah nodded. “Go on.”

“Hell man, that’s it. We don’t have shit on where they’ve taken her.”

Noah forced his legs to move forward. “Take me to the warehouse.”

Noah ignored the look Jordan flashed him as they walked out the door. Jordan thought this was a waste of time. Noah didn’t have time to reassure him that his method for extracting information was almost infallible. When he finished, sometimes even before he got started, most people were only too happy to talk.

It took barely ten minutes to get to the warehouse, but it felt like a year by the time he walked into the abandoned building. Two LCR operatives guarded the front of the building. Two more stood in front of a door. Sounds of fists pounding flesh and grunts of pain and rage came from the other room. But no answers.

Nodding at the two operatives, Noah pushed open the door and looked at one of his best men, beating their prisoner to a pulp. “Stop.”

Gabriel Maddox jerked around. “Hell, Noah, what are you doing here?”

“Get out. Let me talk to him.”

Gabe turned toward the man hanging from the ceiling and spat on him. “My pleasure.”

The door behind Noah shut, leaving him alone with one of the bastards responsible for taking Samara, as well as countless other young girls. Standing with a quiet stillness that often unnerved the most unflappable, he took a few seconds to assess their captive.

Blond hair, cut military short, was matted with sweat. The man was muscular and fit … definitely military. Gabe had worked him over good. Eyes swollen shut, nose a bloody mess, lips busted and bleeding. He’d been stripped to nothing but his underwear. Bruises covered most of his torso. A bloody bandage covered his left upper arm. He’d been battered heavily and all apparently for nothing. The man wouldn’t talk. Why?

Bennett didn’t train his people to withstand torture. If this man was former military, that would make him stronger than most … but why loyalty to a scumbag who preyed on children? The people they’d captured in the raids last year sang like a choir when presented with only the slightest bit of coercion. What would make this man hold out like this? What made him different?

Noticing a bottle of water sitting on the floor, Noah picked it up and held it to the man’s bloodied mouth. The man gulped it down, but still didn’t speak.

Though time was of the essence and he didn’t plan on giving the guy much time to change his mind, Noah sensed he would resist to the death what Noah had originally planned to get him to talk. Maybe there was another way.

Pulling a chair up, he sat down in front of him. “Looks like you’ve been through a lot. Want to tell me why you’d protect such scum?”

No answer.

Narrowing his eyes, Noah studied the man’s stoic expression. Though he would have liked nothing more than to beat him within an inch of his life to force the information, the beatings so far had gotten no results. He got the impression nothing would deter him. Which meant something held him back … something very important to him.

“You’re not part of this, are you?” Noah asked quietly.

No answer.

“You’re undercover.” It was a calculated guess, but when something flickered across his face, Noah knew he’d hit pay dirt.

“Government or private?”

No answer.

Noah blew out a sigh. The longer this took, the more Samara would suffer. Noah slammed the door on that thought. He had to concentrate on the here and now. Thinking about what Samara might be going through would destroy his concentration. He was the only one who could save her and he needed this man’s cooperation to find where they’d taken her.

Leaning forward, Noah laid it on the line. “Here’s the deal. These bastards have kidnapped at least thirteen young girls over the past couple of months. I believe they’ll take a few more and then gather them together at one meeting place. We plan to find that place, rescue the girls, and take down the organization.”

He knew full well he’d just revealed information that could blow their entire operation. That didn’t worry him. If this guy wasn’t undercover for a good reason, the knowledge he gained from this conversation wouldn’t matter. He’d never be set free.

“If there’s someone you’re trying to help, work with us to find her before it’s too late.”

A long, jagged breath sawed from the injured man’s lungs. He swallowed hard. “My sister, Lara. She was taken six weeks ago in Macon, Georgia. She’s fourteen.”

Noah sat up. “How’d you find them?”

“I have some contacts. They hooked me up. I’ve been involved in three of the kidnappings.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “Did my best to make sure the girls aren’t hurt. They’re not raping them. Just storing them until they’re ready for transport.”

“Do you know where the meeting place will be?”

“An old fishing camp outside of Monarch, Mississippi. We were supposed to head there after we got the girl.”

Sliding his hand down his face, Noah breathed out a ragged sigh. He should have known Mitch would go home.

“How many men are involved?”

“Hard to say … seen three of them.” He glared through swollen eyes. “One of them looks a hell of a lot like you.”

Noah stood, pulled a knife from his jacket, and cut the ropes holding the man. He collapsed on the floor.

“Take it easy, man. We’ll get you some help.”

“Gabe, get in here!” Noah shouted.

Gabe stalked into the room. “What the hell did you do?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Let’s get …” He looked down at the half-conscious man lying on the cold concrete floor. “What’s your name?”

“Justin Kelly,” he mumbled.

Noah nodded. “Let’s get some medical care for Mr. Kelly.”

Jordan appeared at the door. “What’s going on?”

“Get as many people as you can together. We need to go through some scenarios.”

“You know where Samara is?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.”

While Jordan pulled out his cellphone and began the task of gathering LCR operatives, Noah helped Gabe carry Justin to a cot in another room.

With barely a glance at the injured man, Eden turned to Noah. “What’s going on?”

“I know where Samara is. … I’m heading there tonight.”

She shook her head. “I know you feel responsible for Samara, but you’re in no condition to go after her. Jordan and I will—”

“No, I’m the only one who can carry this off.”

Eden looked at him with narrow-eyed suspicion, reading between the lines. “I knew something was going on. I think it’s time you told us exactly why you’ve been so heavily involved in this case, when another operative could have just as easily handled it.”

The time had come to reveal all. “Get Jordan and come to Samara’s apartment. I need to grab some things. While I get ready, I’ll tell you.”

  “You’re sure this is the one?”

Richard nodded, ever eager to seem agreeable. “Oh yeah, boss. She told Robert she was there to meet Brian.”

Mitchell Stoddard scratched the stubble on his jaw as he stared down at the unconscious girl. She kind of looked like the picture she’d sent him, but her hair had been shorter and she had more meat on her bones in the picture. He kicked at her shoulder with his boot, knowing she wouldn’t wake up for a while. She seemed younger than her picture too … and almost too skinny.