My fury hasn’t abated since reading the file last night. Instead, it’s grown into something that is fast approaching nuclear levels of destruction. “Ya gonna ease up on those?” Jonas asks, coming into the room we’ve turned into a gym of sorts. I’ve been pounding away at the punching bag, my hands moving so quickly it’s more of a blurred motion. I can feel my muscles aching in my arms from the brutal force I’m using.

“Fuck, no. Did you see what that fucker did to that little girl?” I question, my teeth clenched so tight that my jaw aches. The visions I’ve endured all night have me wound up tight.

“Yeah, I did. But, Atticus, she’s recovering well from everything I’ve been able to find doing my research. She’s in some kind of therapy. Has her aunt and Law both to help with the physical and emotional part.”

“A four-year-old has no business having to go to any kind of motherfucking therapy,” I state, my hands punching the bag in time to my words. He has no fucking clue what this has done to my head. None at all.

“This is a hard one for us all to grasp. We need to just concentrate all of our efforts on finding this son-of-a-bitch and ending him. We can’t go back and change the past, but we can make sure her future is safe from his threats.”

“Leave it to you to always see the brighter side of any issues.” I dryly state to him as he casually sits there on the bench as if this doesn’t affect him in the least.

“Not the brighter side of things, but my mind is on the bigger picture. We make sure she’s safe, put this scumbag in the ground and call it a day.”

“Just like that, huh?” I ask, finally dropping my arms. I’m covered in sweat and still unsettled about the whole thing, but he’s right. We put this motherfucker in the ground and that little girl, Emma, gets a future she wouldn’t have otherwise if he was lurking out there somewhere.

“If I sit around and don’t think of the end result, I’d drive myself mad. What we do for others makes their life worth living. We can’t dwell on the past, brother,” he states, standing up and walking out of the door ending our conversation.

I stand there looking at where he just walked out the door and ponder what he just said. I know I need to move past this, but those pictures are on repeat in my mind. It’s like a slideshow that I can’t stop. We aren’t supposed to get personally involved with clients or in our cases, but sometimes that’s easier said than done.

I’m in my room, just getting out of the shower when my phone begins ringing. I pick it up and look at the caller ID. It shows an unknown number, but most of the time these are people seeking help, or one of our hired informants calling to give us updates on what they’ve been able to find.

“Yo,” I answer in my standard greeting. I hate being on the phone, that isn’t my thing. I like crushing heads together and being out in the field.

“Atticus,” I hear a familiar voice call out on the other end of the line.

“What’s up, Chandler?” I ask my favorite informant. He never lets me down and takes the assignments I give him seriously.

“Got some info on that senator you called about last night,” he informs me.

“Yeah, lay it on me,” I command.

“From what I can gather, he is in dealings with the Southside Freaks and the Devil’s Demons.” Oh great, those are the lowest on the food chain when it comes to scum gangs on this side of the states. They have no regard for people or their property and belongings.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me, right?” I inquire, making sure I didn’t misunderstand him.

“Nope,” he replies.

“Fuck, how the hell did he get mixed up with them?” I wonder out loud. “How solid is your intel?”

“As solid as a rock, I’d trust this man with my life.” This is not what I want to hear. These guys have associations with people that I hate to get involved with. We have in the past and will again I’m sure, but that doesn’t mean I like it.

“Do you happen to know where they’re hiding him?”

“My guy only knows that he’s buried deep underground. I’ll keep digging around and update you as I find out more,” he says, and I disconnect the call. If he has nothing else, there’s no reason to stay on and chit-chat. I get dressed and head downstairs to inform Silas of what I was just told. Our office is downstairs, and our personal rooms are upstairs. It makes life easier than having to jump from place to place.

Once I’m bathed and dressed I’m sent on my way with twenty dollars in cash to pay for my lunch in case Mr. Garza doesn’t pick up my tab. I am picked up by an uber driver and it’s been prepaid by my captor. My nerves are fried because failure is not an option, I need to be irresistible and invited to tonight’s party. I feel bad betraying Mr. Garza, he’s always been nice to me and generous with the tips he leaves. Unfortunately, he and his feelings can’t be what I worry about, Destiny has to be who I worry about. Because I’ll do anything for my baby sister. She’s an innocent in all of this and I won’t have these scumbags touching her. I’ll die first before I let that happen. Or, figure out a way to let someone know that can maybe help us both out of this nightmare.

The driver lets me out at the restaurant and I head inside after taking a deep breath of fresh air. Being kept underground has shown me that I need sunlight on a regular basis to survive. The ‘community’ for lack of a better word that I’ve been kept in is some kind of underground cavern or something. Kinda reminds me of that movie from years ago. The name escapes me, but I remember it was yummy and fascinating because of the two main actors. Shaking my head at where my thoughts are going, I head inside and immediately see Mr. Garza. His eyes raise to mine and a smile crosses his face. “Well, hello, Piper. I haven’t seen you lately. Would you care to join me for lunch?”

I nod. Objective one… accomplished. I go to join him as he gets up and pulls my chair out for me and indicates with his hand for me to take the seat. I gladly accept and graciously sit. “Thank you for asking me to join you today, I wasn’t looking forward to eating by myself,” I inform him. His bright white smile spreads across his face, he’s such a handsome man that it breaks my heart that I’ll possibly have to hurt him.

Over lunch, we talk about what’s been going on in our lives, me relying on a story I’ve made up, which is one hundred percent bullshit, seeing as I’ve been a prisoner now for the past month or so. I’ve lost track without the sun to help me count the time in between days. When he asks why I haven’t been at work, I spin a story about losing a great-aunt that took me out of town. Then, he expresses his condolences for my loss and I feel like absolute shit and want to spill my guts. But I keep in mind that there’s a reason I’m here today, and that reason isn’t for me alone.

Think of Destiny my brain shouts. She has to be what keeps this charade up, I can’t let it slip that I’m not being one-hundred percent honest with him. Shutting that train of thought down, I thank him instead and ask what he’s been doing.

“Oh, I’m having a party this evening. If it’s not too soon, dear, I’d love to have you attend.” Score! My mind screams out in triumph.

Objective two… get invited to the party accomplished. “I’d love that if you’re sure it’s okay?” I ask, batting my eyelashes in his direction. “And what’s the dress code?” I laugh because I’m pretty sure my captors know, and I’ll have the appropriate dress to wear. It makes me sick to let them clothe me, but what choice do I have other than to be their dutiful slave?

“It’s casual, dear. Wear your favorite pair of jeans...or not,” he looks me up and down in perusal of what I’m currently wearing. “My home sits on a beach, so you could just wear your favorite bikini.” He draws out the last word, emphasizing what he’d prefer me to wear, or lack of should I say.

“I’ll do what I can,” I flirt. I place my hand on his and give it a gentle squeeze. His eyes blaze with desire, and I know that I’ll be able to use this to my advantage. “If you’ll write out your address and write down the time, I’ll make sure that I’m there,” I play my part.

“Absolutely,” he replies as he pulls out a business card from his wallet and brings out a pen from his inner jacket pocket. He writes down the information and slides the card across the table to me. I reach out to grab the card, only he places his hand on top of mine when I do and brings it up to his mouth and lays a gentle peck on the outside. “Until tonight,” he says, as he gets up and goes to the front to pay the bill. My heart is pitter-pattering, I can feel the tempo of its steady beat as it drums its way through my veins. I can do this, I remind myself. I get up and head out the door where there is yet another car waiting to pick me up. It’s a different driver every time I’m sent out on a job. I get in and the car pulls away, taking me back to my kidnappers.

I’m dropped off at a beautiful beachside home. It’s bigger than anything I’ve ever personally been to. I’ve seen plenty of these mansion style houses on the beach on television, but they seem smaller than true to life on the screen. I gawk up at the second story and see a couple having sex, right there in the open on the balcony. The woman’s head is thrown back in ecstasy as the man brutally pounds into her. I clench my legs because the scene in front of me is turning me on. I’ve never witnessed a couple having sex before, but the vision I’m seeing is beautiful, raw and full of passion. Makes me wish it was me in the woman’s place. To feel that heat coming from another person and leveled at yourself is rare. I’ve had several partners, but none that made me scream out and feel as good as she seems to be. Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a man between my thighs. Maybe that’s the problem, I haven’t had any good attention from the opposite sex in what feels like a really long time. Shaking my head, I head to the front door and ring the bell.

“Good evening, may I help you?” the gentleman asks me.

“Um… yes, Mr. Garza invited me, my name is Piper Carsden,” I inform him.

“Miss Carsden, yes. Mr. Garza is expecting you,” the butler says once he’s opened the door. He gives me a once-over and I pray I’m dressed properly. I went with the off-the-shoulder sundress they had in the room. I also put on a very risqué bikini that is white and will show off all of the goods if it gets wet. The dress itself is gauzy, light and despite the circumstances, it makes me feel pretty. I fixed my hair in large curls that fall down my shoulders and land in the middle of my back, knowing my dark auburn hair will captivate Mr. Garza. When I breach the doorway to the house I immediately see the open bar and head that way, needing some liquid courage.

“What can I get for ya?” the bartender asks me.

“I’ll have a sex on the beach, please,” I answer.

“Good choice,” gets whispered in my ear. I look over my shoulder and see Mr. Garza standing behind me.

“Yes it is,” I respond to his statement.

“Sex on the beach is always a good thing.” Ah, we’re back to flirting again I see.

“Couldn’t say for sure, have never had that experience,” I bat my eyes at him. God, I hope I’m not overplaying this. “But what about the sand?”

He throws his head back in laughter then says, “We may have to fix that for you,” he winks at me. “And if it’s done correctly, you’ll never even notice the sand.”

Oh my. Hmm. Well, I’m not sure what to say now, so I smile and take a sip of my drink. He places his hand on my lower back and I can feel the heat as it travels up my spine. I won’t lie, I am desperately attracted to him, but it feels like there’s something… missing. Some spark of recognition when he speaks to me or touches me. It’s something I’ve always dreamed of feeling when the man of my dreams is near. I wonder if that’s just shit spewed by romance authors or even television programs and movies, or if it really exists. I mean, isn’t there truth in fiction? I feel bad that I’m using him to help rescue myself and my sister from our current situation and don’t want to get feelings mixed into it as well.

“Come with me, let’s mingle. I have some people I’d like to introduce you to,” he states, moving me away from the bar. Who? Who could he possibly wish for me to meet? This confuses me, but I’ll just go with it and see what he’s up to. He introduces me to some of his ‘closest’ friends who are friendly to the outside eye, but I can feel how standoffish they’re being with me. After a bit, I excuse myself to go to the restroom. I walk around the downstairs as inconspicuously as I can, trying not to draw any type of attention my way. Not finding the office down here, I casually walk up the stairs, acting as if I belong here and can go wherever I please. Once I make it up the stairs, the urge to actually relieve myself hits and I go to the first bathroom I come across. I see it has a connecting door and once I’m finished and my hands are washed, I gently ease it open. To my surprise, I think I’ve unknowingly located the office. I look around to make sure no one is in here, when I’m satisfied that no one is here, I rush over to the lamp and place the bug on the top where the shade is screwed on. My hands shake as I finish the task and rush back into the connecting bathroom. I lay back on the door and get my breathing under control. Once I gain my self-control, I walk out the door and head towards the staircase. Now to get the rest of this night finished so I can get back to my hellhole. Once I make it down the stairs I notice Mr. Garza searching the room. I have a feeling he’s seeking me out. He spots me as soon as my foot hits the bottom stair and confusion mars his face.

“Why were you coming down from the top floor?” he questions.

“The bathroom down here was occupied, so I took it upon myself to find one that wasn’t,” I reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, Mr. Garza.”

“Call me Leo, dear. And, that’s quite alright. Did you have any problems finding the restroom upstairs?” A gush of air leaves my lungs when he accepts my explanation. I can’t believe I’m a party to deceiving this exceptional man.

“Not at all.” Okay, now I’m at a loss. He seems like a nice man, but why would the assholes who have me want to bug his office? These are questions I’m sure I may never get an answer to and that will drive me crazy. We mingle some more until I look at the time and notice that I have to get out of here because my ride will be waiting on me and I can’t take the chance of pissing anyone off.

“Leo?” I say, getting his attention from the conversation he’s currently involved in.

“Yes, my dear,” he responds.

“I hate to do this, but I have a friend picking me up because I need to leave. I wanted to stop by and see you before I left,” I inform him.

“I hate to end this night, are you sure I can’t give you a ride when this party wraps up?” he asks.

“I would if I didn’t have plans that require me to spend the night with her and get up early in the morning. How about we set up another time and place to meet up?” I ask hopefully, because I’d like to get a chance to speak with him alone.

“We can do that, do you still have my card?”

“I do,” I lie, because the business card he supplied me with was taken from me earlier this afternoon when I got back from our lunch date.

“It has my number on it, give me a call and we’ll set something up.” I smile at him. I know he can’t tell it’s a sad smile because he’s unaware of my situation, he won’t notice the difference between this and my real smile.