Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) (19 page)

Alex slammed into him when he stopped. “Sorry.” She stepped back. “So, what are we looking for?”

He pulled her against him. “First and foremost, we need to blend. If something’s going on here we don’t want anyone figuring out we’ve noticed. Keep your eyes open for under-aged girls and men hanging around them.”

“It’s so crowded.” She glanced over her shoulder and started to turn. “How are we supposed to tell?”

Despite her outfit, Alex screamed ‘fish out of water.’ “Just dance with me for a little while.”

“How can I find my sister if we’re dancing?”

“We’re blending while we look, remember?” He took her hands and wrapped them around the back of his neck as he found his rhythm to the hammering beat.

She stared at him for several seconds. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I haven’t seen you try. I’m doing it, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you’re an athlete. You look good whenever you move.”

He grinned. “Are you hitting on me?”

“What?” She blinked several times. “No. No, of course not. I was just saying…”

He laughed. “I’m kidding. Lighten up.” He pinched her chin gently. “Dancing is part of our cover. Give it a try.”

She licked her lips and imitated his movements. Within minutes her shyness vanished and she was smiling. “This is kind of fun.”

Despite her initial hesitation, she had decent moves. His mouth watered as her willowy body brushed and bumped his. He scanned the crowds and glanced at several men watching her. Maybe Alex dancing wasn’t such a good idea after all. Her short, tight skirt barely covered her. The thin, clinging top she wore showcased her tiny waist and a provocative hint of smooth creamy breasts. She’d pulled off ‘sexy’ a little too well.

“Over there.”

“Huh?”

She pressed her body to his and leaned in close to his ear. “Behind you.”

He shivered as her breath heated his neck and his fingers touched her hips.

“There’s no way that girl is twenty-one. She’s not even eighteen.”

Jackson glanced over, spotting at least twenty women.

“That guy’s all over her,” Alex said in a disgusted hiss. She eased back and stared into his eyes as Jackson casually turned them in the direction she spoke of.

He scanned the crowd. “I don’t see her.”

The song changed, slowing, but grew louder.

“What?” she yelled, shaking her head.

He leaned in as she had. “I don’t see her.”

She turned her head in the girl’s direction and raised her hand to point. “She’s wearing—”

“No, Alex. Here. Look at me.” He took her face in his hands. “You’re gonna blow it.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“Just focus here. I’ll check it out again in a few seconds.” He trailed his fingers over her jaw.

She clutched at his waist. “What are you doing?”

“Blending. Looking like everyone else.” The masses of men and women crowded around them, held each other tight. “What does she look like?” He traced his thumb down her neck and paused on her hammering pulse, then he continued down to her collarbone and toyed with the triangular charm resting against her chest.

“Um, she’s…” Her lids fluttered closed as he made his way back up. “Brown hair.” Alex opened her eyes, locking on his. “She has brown hair.”

He was taking advantage of the situation but didn’t care. She looked so different in her wig, but she smelled the same—vanilla and flowers. He brushed his mouth along her cheekbone and pressed his lips to her temple. “What’s she wearing?”

Alex’s fingers wandered to his hair. “She—I—I can’t think when you touch me like this.”

He clutched her ass over the little denim covering it, yanking her against him, and snagged her bottom lip, tugging gently, wanting to devour her whole right where they stood. God, she was driving him crazy.

“Jack.” The heat of her breath warmed his skin as she whispered his name.

He turned them a fraction to the right and spotted the young girl with brown hair out of the corner of his eye. “Is she wearing a blue skirt?”

Alex’s brows furrowed. “What? Yes. Yes, and a white, sleeveless top.”

He studied the pretty brown-haired girl, for surely she was still a girl—no more than seventeen—take a piece of paper from a good looking, well-built man easily five to ten years her senior. “Her friends are cruising over. I think they’re leaving.” He rested Alex’s head on his shoulder and turned slowly in a dance that matched the rhythm of the music blasting through the huge space, watching until the group of four girls disappeared in the crowd toward the exit. “They’re leaving.”

She pulled her head from his shoulder. “Well, thank God. How are they—”

“Hold on.” He took his phone from his pocket and moved until he framed the darkened, blurry image of the man in the screen. “Smile.”

Alex did as she was told. He snapped the photo.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I’m getting a shot of him. I’ll send it to Ethan and see if he can make anything out of it.”

Seconds later, the man vanished into the mob of dancers.

“He makes me sick. I’m so sick.” Alex started to move into the crowd.

Jackson grabbed her hand before he lost sight of her. “Hey, wait a minute.”

“I can’t.” She whirled. “How are they getting in here? Even with a fake ID, it’s clear she isn’t of age.”

“Come on.” He walked with her through the noise until they stepped out the door and into a cloud of cigarette smoke.

Alex coughed as she fanned her hand in front of her face. “We need to call the police.” She reached into her purse.

He tugged her toward the direction of the parking garage. “Let’s stroll for awhile.”

“The police—”

“No police, Alex.”

“But he was taking advantage of her.”

“And what should we tell them? This place is a Disney movie compared to where we need to go, Alex. That guy hit on someone he shouldn’t have. He gave her a phone number—again, pretty G-rated. Unacceptable,” he added when Alex steamed out a breath. “But G-rated nonetheless.”

“Okay, so no cops. But I’m still angry.”

He kept quiet as they made their way along the sidewalk in the balmy summer air. This wasn’t going to work. “We should go home.”

“What?” Alex stopped in her tracks. “No. We can’t.”

“I think we have to.”

“But it’s only eleven. We haven’t even started looking for Abby.”

“You’re right, we’ve barely started looking for Abby and you’re already worked up. It’s going to get so much worse.”

“I can handle whatever I need to.”

He stared at the fierce determination darkening her eyes. “One more stop, Alex. You show me you can keep it together at the next club, or you’re finished.”

“You can’t—”

“I can and will. This isn’t some action flick or suspense novel. The people who have your sister aren’t fucking around.”

“I’m aware of our reality, Jack. Take me to the next place. I can handle it.” She stormed down the sidewalk.

He stared, sighing, then started after her. They might just make it through the night if the hard light stayed in her eyes instead of the sad vulnerability and outrage he saw moments before.

God,
God
this was awful. She wanted to tell Jack she’d had enough, but she sat where she was. Abby didn’t get a choice. Her sister had no free will to leave a life she hadn’t chosen. If Abby endured this each night, she sure as hell could sit here too.

Who would Abby be when they brought her home? Would the trauma send her down the road their mother had taken? Would her sister drown herself in an abyss of alcohol and depression until she couldn’t take it anymore? Would she walk into a bathroom and find Abby dead in a bathtub full of blood and water, the way she had her mom?

Alexa squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists against the horrid memory. Abby was so bright and talented. Gran had worked hard to erase the neglect and distress of their early childhood. Alexa needed to believe Abby would be strong enough to overcome this too.

Did Abby know she was searching for her and that she would never, ever give up? Alexa clamped her fists tighter until they ached, willing her sister to
feel
her—wherever she was out there. Abby wasn’t here. She hadn’t been in any of the places they’d gone to. Alexa took a deep breath of stale, smoke-filled air and struggled not to give in to her tears. Jack had tried to prepare her for the conditions she would see. He’d urged her several times not to get her hopes up, but her unyielding need to believe that they would soon free Abby from her nightmare didn’t allow her to listen. Although she’d tried to remain cautiously optimistic, a small piece of her had been convinced they would find her tonight.

“Hey, you ready to get out of here?”

Alexa continued to stare at her thighs, afraid Jack would see the sorrow in her eyes. He knew her too well. “Yes. Let’s go.”

“Come on.” He took her hand and they stood.

They started toward the exit, weaving their way through the tables full of men and women. Alexa glanced around once more, taking everything in—the dancers circling the poles, the men transfixed and staring, the darker hallway off to the side of the stage leading to closed doors, but there was no Abby.

Jack pushed open the door and she took a step into the night. “You said—”

“Stop.” He pulled on her hand.

Frowning, she met his gaze as he tugged her back into the noisy room. “What is it?”

“I think I just saw Abby.”

She whirled. “Where?”

“Going into one of the rooms down the hall.”

Without thinking, Alexa rushed ahead.

Jack caught her by the elbow and squeezed hard until she gasped and halted. “What are you
doing
?” he hissed close to her ear.

“I—Abby’s here.”

“I
think
she’s here,” he bit off.

“We have to do something. We have to get her and take her with us.” She glanced back to the hallway, fighting the urge to pull away and yell to her sister that this was almost over.

“Look at me.”

She met Jack’s cool eyes, surprised by the chill she’d only seen once before on a cold February night.

He pulled her several steps away from the door and the bouncer. “If you want to see your sister again, you’ll calm down. This is make or break, Alex. If they even think we’ve seen her, they’ll pull her out of here before you can blink and put her on a plane to some place that makes this shit hole look like paradise.”

She took a deep breath and pressed her lips firm, trying to settle her racing heart. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right.” She had to pull herself together. This wasn’t the time for hysterics. Abby needed her to be strong. “What are we going to do?”

He studied her, then nodded. “We need to find seats—closer to this side of the stage.”

“Okay.”

They weaved through the crowds again to an empty table.

“Should we call the police?”

Jack shook his head. “The rooms off to the side are usually used for private dances. I’m going to try to get a positive ID before we do anything. You’ll have to stay here.”

She wanted to go and see Abby for herself but knew that wasn’t an option. “Okay. If it’s her how will we get her out?”

“We won’t.”

Shocked to the bone, her eyes flew to Jack’s. “What do you mean we won’t? You promised me that when we got our break you were going to do whatever you had to do to bring her home. This is our break, Jack. I can’t leave here without her.”

“Look around the room. Do you see the bouncers at every door, next to the stage, and at the end of the hall?”

Alexa’s gaze darted to each of the large men dressed in black, covering all potential exits. Abby was possibly no more than fifty steps from where they sat, and she couldn’t help her. “Jack,” her voice broke. She cleared away the weakness. “There must be something. There has to be a way. The police.”

“One step at a time. Let me make a positive ID first.” He took her chin between his fingers. “Listen to me, Alex, and listen carefully. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t move from this table. Don’t go to the bathroom, the bar, or outside. Keep your phone in your purse and
do not
call Canon or 911. Understand?”

Who was this cruel stranger? She pulled free of his grip. “Yes.”

He stood and walked to the bar.

What happened to Jack? In a matter of seconds he’d gone from supportive to hard and distant. She watched as he spoke to the bartender and pointed to the rooms in the back. He shook his head and shook his head again. It wasn’t long before the bartender signaled to one of the bulky men in black.

The bartender said something to the man before the bouncer nudged his head for Jack to follow. She met his gaze and watched as he disappeared down the dim hall beyond.

The bouncer opened the door to a dingy room. “No touching the ladies, or I’ll have to punch your face in.”

Jackson nodded and took his seat in the folding chair, noting the holes in the plaster-cracked walls as he breathed through his mouth. The place smelled like shit.

The knob twisted and a redhead stepped in. Not Abby.

“Hold up. I said the black-haired girl.”

The bouncer folded his arms and tilted his head. “What’s wrong with Strawberry?”