CHAPTER 23

Isobel

The house was dark when I pulled into the driveway. I’d gone by the stadium first, hoping I’d be able to catch Brock before he left. If I knew where else to look, I’d already be there. He was in as much danger as Miller. He told me over and over again that people feared him, but Anthony feared no one. Like when Brock was assigned a job, Anthony would find a way to get it done. It was still early for Brock to be sleeping, but after all the late nights we’d had together, he could have gone to bed early. At least that was my hope. Brock was safe in his own home.

I drove my car into the garage and quickly shut the door behind it. Brock’s car wasn’t in the other space. I didn’t think it was possible, but my heart rate picked up even more. The game was over, which meant he must have gone somewhere else.

Where could he have gone?

I knew he planned on telling Ashton about me tonight, but he hadn’t mentioned anyone else. I had a feeling he wouldn’t stop with only one of the brothers, which meant he’d probably gone to talk to Miller. I debated whether I should keep looking for Brock or wait for him. Miller owned two places in town and they could be at either one. I could spend half the night looking and still miss him. Staying at the house, while frustrating, seemed like the better the option. I’d spend the time trying to call him. I’m climbed from my car to go in search of the phone I’d left.

Once inside the house, I flipped on a light and froze. The room was destroyed. The table was upended, chairs with broken legs, and even the cabinets had been emptied onto the floor. Afraid of what that could mean, I moved cautiously through the kitchen to the hall. Looking at the destruction of the rest of the house, it was deliberate. The people who came into Brock’s home were looking for something, and I had a pretty good guess it was me. I backtracked through the kitchen into the garage. The gun I’d taken from the house was in my bag. Once I had it in my hand, I went back in. If any of those assholes were still there, I had no intention of going down without a fight. I moved quietly through house, looking for any sign of someone in the house. While the entire bottom floor was in shambles, I couldn’t find a trace of anyone.

Slowly, I climbed the stairs. After checking all the rooms besides Brock’s, I made my way to the door, pushing it open with my foot. His room had taken the most damage. Clothes, torn and shredded, were strewn everywhere.

All of them mine.

It became clear they were sending a message. I rummaged through the piles, searching for the phone. The only thing I needed to get my hands on before leaving. No matter what, it wasn’t safe to stay and wait for Brock. My finger hit something cold, and I threw the clothes to the side to find the phone crushed into tiny pieces. My head snapped to the side table to see the clock.

Almost midnight.

There was no way I could get a phone before morning. Not that it mattered. Brock’s number was programmed in the broken phone. I had no way to get a message to him. With Jimmy after me, maybe leaving was my best option. If keeping away from Brock would keep him safe, then that was exactly what I planned to do. I loved him. I wouldn’t be the cause of his downfall. There was nothing more I could do to protect Miller and Brock by staying.  I had no desire to lead Jimmy and his goons directly to Brock.

He’d take one look at the house and know they were looking for me. With the help of the Haweses, he’d beef up security. I’d caused enough havoc in his life. The only hope I had was I could leave enough of a trail to draw Jimmy away from the Haweses to find me. Without wasting any more time, I went back to the garage, got into my car, and left.

My chest ached as I drove farther and farther away from Brock’s house. This was the second time I left to protect him. I had no idea if he’d understand the choice I made. I never told him how I felt now, and it might have been for the better. He’d see it as us getting a few good fucks in before our time was up.

I glanced down and was thankful I changed after dinner. I owned a single pair of jeans I only wore when Nathan was out of town. I left Brock’s house with nothing but the laptop and my wallet. No phone, no extra clothes. Before I could do anything else I needed to ditch my car. Clothes would have to wait until the morning when the stores opened. I thought about using one of my cards when I remembered what Brock had said about tracing its use. I went almost an hour outside of town where I took cash from an ATM and left my car in a lot down the street from the small convenience store. The safest way to get back to check into a motel seemed to be a cab. After picking up the toiletries I’d need for the night, I asked the cashier if she’d call me cab. I told her my car was in the lot but wouldn’t start, and my phone wasn’t charged. That I’d have my husband come pick it up later. She sympathized with my car trouble and was more than willing to make the call. 

The cab arrived within ten minutes and I was on my way back to town. The motel I chose was in the seedy part of town, but not one of the whorehouses Nathan owned.

I checked in and went straight to my room, stripping off the jeans and T-shirt. After a quick shower to wash the million pounds of makeup and hair product from my body, I redressed in the same clothes and settled on the bed with the laptop. The only way to figure out how close Jimmy was to finding me was to keep tabs on him. I searched the thumbnails until I saw Jimmy cross in front of the camera. I clicked on the box and every muscle in my body tightened at what appeared on the screen.

Brock.

Jimmy had managed to get his hands on Brock and had him tied to a chair in the middle of a room. One eye was already swollen shut and there was a thin red line running from the corner of his mouth. Jimmy walked straight up to him, the cigarette in his hand heading straight for his chest. With a smirk he held it to his chest. Brock squirmed and after a moment grunted, but he didn’t open his mouth. That’s when I noticed the twenty or so burn holes all over his shirt and chest.

Jimmy lifted the cigarette to his mouth, taking a drag until the end lit up red. Once again he dropped the tip to Brock’s chest, and I noticed him gripping the edge of the chair so tightly, his knuckles were white. It wasn’t long before Jimmy got bored and put the cigarette out on Brock. He tossed the butt to the ground and moved off camera to grab something. He came back swinging a rope with a bag on the end. I didn’t need to be in the room to know it was full of soap or rocks or whatever the hell else Jimmy decided would be fun.

“Now, I’m going to ask again. This time I hope you’ll help yourself and tell me where she is.”

Brock mumbled something too quiet for me to hear.

“What did you say?” Jimmy demanded.

Brock whispered again. I knew where this was going before Jimmy made a move. He lowered his head to get closer to Brock’s mouth and hear what he was saying.

“Repeat what you just said.”

Brock’s voice rang out loud and clear in the room. “I said go to hell.” He spat at Jimmy and rammed his head up into his face.

“Fuck,” Jimmy cried out, bending at the waist and grabbing his jaw.

Why would he do that? I wanted to reach through the computer and knock some sense into Brock, but it was too late. Jimmy stood and whipped the bag out, making direct contact with Brock’s ribs. His good eye flew open and he sucked in a lungful of air, then shouted into the empty space. Jimmy threw the bag into his side again. Brock tried to move away from it, but the restraints kept him where he was. Three, four, five more times, he slammed the bag into Brock’s sides. Brock was panting, sweat dripping down his face. There was no doubt in my mind that he had multiple broken ribs.

My chest ached. The only way I could stop the torture was to figure out where the hell they were. I tried to focus on the room, but I could hear Jimmy’s taunts as he moved out of the camera’s range to get something else.

“Still not going to tell me where you’re hiding that little bitch?”

I knew he couldn’t hear me, but that didn’t stop me from screaming at the computer. “Leave him alone, asshole, he has no idea where I am!”

This time Jimmy didn’t wait for an answer, coming into the camera’s range, a baseball bat in his hands. He swung with all of his force into Brock’s kneecap.

“Fuck,” Brock screamed into the room, trying to reach for his knee.

Jimmy smirked and slammed the bat into the same knee again. This time Brock threw up, then his head lolled to the side. I grabbed the lamp from the side table and threw it into the wall across the room, watching with satisfaction as it shattered and fell to the floor. I couldn’t imagine staying awake through that kind of pain. Jimmy Delgado was going to pay for every ounce of pain he’d caused Brock.

“It’s no fun when they pass out.” He dropped the bat to the ground. “We’ll leave him here and see if we can find any other leads on her.”

Anthony appeared on screen. “I’ll leave a couple of guys here to keep their eyes on him.” He glanced down at Brock’s knee. “Not that I think he’s going anywhere.”

I forced myself to focus on the room and not the occupants in it. It was one of the warehouses down by the river. I had no idea which one he was in, but I’d search them all until I found him. I slammed the laptop closed. At some point, I’d need a car to get Brock out of there. It wasn’t like I could get a rental and drive it down there. I’d have to borrow one from somewhere around here and return it later. Another thing I learned being married to Nathan was how to hot-wire a car. According to him it was in case I found myself in a place I needed to get out of immediately. It just so happened that this time I needed to get into a place.

I locked the door to the room and went in search of a car to take. A parking lot would get the cops called too quickly, but one parked on the street should give me until morning to dump it. I wandered a few streets over and found the perfect one. These guys had even left their windows open. No need to jimmy the locks. I hopped inside and reached under the dash, finding the wires I needed with ease. Once the car started I was on my way to get Brock.

 

***

 

 

My lids felt heavy. No sleep for almost twenty-four hours began to take its toll, but I refused to give up until I found Brock. I pushed on. I’d already tried two warehouses down by the water. Nathan owned four in total. They made it nice and easy to smuggle things into the city, but tonight they planned on using them to torture Brock. The few times I’d been to one of the warehouses the interiors were almost identical. I couldn’t recognize which was which on the camera. That left me searching each one for where they were keeping Brock. Each warehouse had multiple entrances. I also knew Nathan had kept emergency exits that only a few knew about in case he had to get out in a hurry. If there was a raid, he wanted to be able to slip out the back door and be on his way before they reached his office.

I kept close to the building while I moved down the alley, trying to get closer and closer to the hidden door on the outside of the office. No one had been in the office when I’d checked the laptop before I got out of the car. I tightened my grip on the gun in my hand, a knife in a holster at my hip.

The small silver ring at the top of the door came into view. If I hadn’t known it was there, I would have never seen where the opening could be. It looked like a single smooth wall. I pulled on the chain and hoped like hell I’d be alone. The door opened into the office, ever so slowly. I moved closer, listening for any indication of someone in the room. I was met with nothing but silence.

I raised my gun and turned the corner, prepared for whatever I might find. The room was dark, the only light seeping in from under the door and from the muted light in the alley. For so long I thought Nathan was ridiculous for having all the secret entrances and vaults, but now I couldn’t be more thankful for them. I quietly closed the door, plunging the room into complete darkness. As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I could just make out that the room was sparsely furnished, only a simple desk and chair. Not the usual office Nathan would have occupied, but I knew he spent very little time there.

Muffled sounds reached me through the door. There had to be a way for me to see outside without alerting anyone to my presence. Using the little I could see and feeling with my hands, I made my way across the room to the desk. There was a computer on top of the desk. It wouldn’t hurt to see if Nathan kept a separate security system for the warehouse on there. I turned on the monitor and wasn’t surprised to find that someone had left the computer on after trying unsuccessfully to get into the system.

Once again, I typed in my name and watched as the computer came to life. Icons loaded on the desktop. The moment I saw the one for Blaine Security Systems, I clicked on it. The small video boxes appeared, the same as they did on the laptop, except all of these were focused on different parts of the warehouse.

I scanned each box closely, looking for any sign of Brock or Jimmy and his cronies. It took me a few minutes, but after scanning each and every camera, I finally found Brock. His head hung to the side, his hands and legs still bound to the chair. The swelling in his knee was obvious, even through the camera.

From the map I could piece together from the other video, I had a rough idea of the way to get to Brock and get out without much fighting. From what I could see, there were only a few men standing between me and where I could see Brock, in the middle of an empty room.

After shutting off the monitor, I moved to the door, prepared to face the first of the men in my path. He stood not far outside the entry, no doubt making sure no one but Jimmy entered this room. Jimmy was the one person I hadn’t seen on any of the videos since I’d arrived at the warehouse. I opened the door a crack and slipped outside while the guy’s back was turned. The rifle in his hand, already loaded, gave me very few options on how to deal with him. He had at least a foot on me. I took the knife from the holster, holding it at the ready. With his back still turned, I leapt, wrapping my legs around his waist and slicing the blade across his neck. His shoulders slumped and I jumped off him before his body fell to the ground, blood quickly covering the floor.

I moved past the mess, no desire to have that vision burned into my brain. The sound of groaning hit my ears. I stopped and listened to make sure I was heading in the right direction. The distinct sound of footfalls hit my ears. With each step they got closer. I flattened myself to the wall, waiting for whoever it was to emerge from the hall. Two bodies appeared, but I didn’t give them a chance to do anything, unloading a round into each of their chests before they could draw their own weapons.

I ran over, my gun still pointed in their direction to make sure they weren’t getting back up. It was clear they were dead and I went back to listening for signs of Brock. Thankfully there weren’t many rooms outside of the main storage area, which I’d already cleared. There were two doors to my right. I leaned closer to the first one and was met with silence. From the second door came painful groans, as well as the rattling of a rifle as it hit someone’s legs when walking. I pulled the gun from the back of my pants, the silencer already in place. I got closer to the door, paying specific attention to the footfalls in the room. I needed my aim to be perfect. When I was sure he was on one side of the room, I threw the door open, aimed, and fired. Goon number four fell to the ground, another pool blood forming around him.

I glanced up and stopped dead in my tracks. Brock’s head hung forward, the bruising far worse than it had been on the camera, and somehow I had to find a way to get him the hell out of that place.