Heat: An Alpha Male Criminal Romance (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 1) (33 page)

“I think they should have gotten out before they went bad. They know it’s coming. I knew. I had honor for my badge. It was slowly slipping away and I had to do something.”

I finish the burrito and give a very unladylike belch.

“Don’t get sick in the car,” Philip says with a shake of his head. We throw away our trash and head back to the Caddy.

I sit in the back and ponder everything Philip told me.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I HAVE PHILIP TAKE
me by a convenience store so I can wash my hands and grab some mints. I don’t need to run off my client with Manabertos breath. The address is on the west side of town, so we head in that direction. Philip hasn’t said anything more about his work for Moon and I haven’t asked additional questions. I have a lot of guilt over Harry Dandridge. Philip adds another perspective, which helps.

The house we’re looking for is in an upper-class neighborhood in an orange tree grove. All the houses have orange trees and all the houses are Navajo white with red tiled roofs. They aren’t as close together as most communities, thus the upper-class appearance and feel.

“You’re staying in the car,” I tell Philip.

“No can do,” he replies. “Tell your client I’m your sidekick.”

“Why? Because the little woman needs a big man to take care of business?”

He gives a loud, “Ha,” before telling me, “One of the best cops I ever worked with was a woman. She had an uncanny knack for ferreting out the truth and spotted a lie a mile off. She could bust balls too. Believe me, you wanted her at your back in a fight.”

I give in.

We walk to the front door and I knock. At the same time, Philip rang the bell. I glare, he shrugs. I’m biting my lip to keep from busting Philip’s balls, and I’m startled when the door flies open. Kennedy has a gun pointed at us. Philip pushes me aside. A heavy jerk to my arm by someone other than Kennedy pulls me inside. Kennedy fires twice and Philip goes down.

I fight and receive a hard backhand and fall to the floor. Philip’s down, and even knowing how much danger I’m in, I start crawling toward him.

“Don’t bother, Miss Kinlock,” an accented voice says from behind me. I peer over my shoulder and see a man of medium height with a flabby belly and wearing more gold than most women have in their entire jewelry collection. He nods to Kennedy and I turn to see Kennedy close the front door. He takes one step toward Philip and fires a round into his head.

It’s surreal and takes a few seconds for me to grasp that Kennedy killed Philip.

“You fucking bastard,” I scream as black rage fills me. I roll over and reach for my gun. A third man plants a kick in my stomach. The air leaves my lungs. He removes my gun and there’s nothing I can do. My feet are pulled out and duct tape wrapped around them. Kennedy grabs a large chunk of my hair and places a knife to my throat.

“We can do this easy or hard. You name it because I would love nothing more than cutting up your pretty face.”

I can’t speak because I can’t breathe, so I spit full in his face. The kick to my head is the last thing I remember inside the house.

I wake up with my eyes and mouth covered by what feels like duct tape. My arms are bound behind me and my feet are taped together. It takes several minutes to figure out that I’m not in the trunk of a car; I’m on the floorboard, uncomfortably on my side, beneath someone’s feet. A voice with a heavy Spanish accent starts speaking and I’m fairly certain it’s Estephon which makes me think it’s his feet resting on my legs.

“I have the lovely Miss Kinlock. I believe she is special to you, no?” There’s silence for a moment. “You have nothing to say?”

Estephon’s laugh fills the car. Then, in the creepiest, calmest voice I’ve ever heard, he speaks again, “Señor Moon thinks he can hang up on me without retribution. He thinks he can take over my territory. He thinks he is superior. He is a foolish man with a foolish set of principles. When the señorita is screaming, we will see how those principles work for him.”

I hear three different tones of laughter. Bile rises in my throat. I try to breathe calmly through my nose. With my mouth taped shut, I can’t throw up or I’ll inhale vomit into my lungs and suffocate.

I have no idea the direction we’re heading or how long I’ve been unconscious. I know that my gun is gone and I’m assuming the phones are too. I try to move and Estephon’s foot presses harder into my legs. He doesn’t say a word. I stop moving.

Roughly thirty minutes passes before the car slows and makes several turns. We come to a stop a minute later. The doors open and heat slides inside the car. I’m eventually lifted out. I can tell the sun is still shining because I feel the rays beating down on me. I’m thrown over someone’s shoulder and my stomach rebels. I’m sat on a soft surface that feels like a couch and I fall back against a cushion. My head is held in place as the tape is ripped from my mouth. Whoever it is releases me just in time. I’m able to lean forward a bit and upchuck my lunch directly into my lap.

Angry Spanish surrounds me as the stink permeates the air. I’m so fucking glad I ate that fucking burrito. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it. I’m lifted again and carried into another room, where I’m dumped in what I assume is a very large bathtub. I can’t feel the end with my bound feet but porcelain is cool on my skin. I’m curled on my side as lukewarm water sprays from a faucet above me. It feels good until I begin realizing I could easily drown while my hands and feet are tied. I’m jerked up by the hair when I squirm and try to roll.

“Hold fucking still,” Kennedy says. I feel the press of a blade against my throat and I freeze. The blade moves down and away before he methodically cuts my shirt and bra before tearing them off me. Next, he works on my pants as the water rises and almost covers my mouth. Kennedy moves me up higher against the back of the tub, lifts my hips by the waist of my pants, and continues cutting. He suddenly lets me go and I slip beneath the water. I panic and kick out. My leg is grabbed and Kennedy uses the leverage from me kicking out to push my upper body higher in the tub. I gasp for air as he removes my boots. I can’t see, and my shoulder is killing me from my arms being tied behind my back. I’m naked and smell like vomit, which I realize must be in my hair. These are the thoughts I release into the void. I hold onto one thing: I’m alive.

Kennedy pulls the tape from my eyes and I cry out. I focus on Kennedy as my eyes adjust to the bright light of the room. He’s wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt. The front is wet from the bath water. His white teeth gleam in the light.

“Always thought you had nice tits. Be a shame to let those go to waste before Estephon kills you.”

“Fuck you,” I growl. If I die—I pray I take Kennedy with me.

“You just might have that chance, but first we need to wash that shit out of your hair. God, you stink.” He reaches over me to the far side of the bathtub and grabs shampoo. Now that I can see, I realize the tub is longer than standard but not anything fancy. He pours shampoo on his hand before lathering it into my hair. I remain quiet and try to think about anything but my aching shoulder. When he’s done, he shoves me backwards into the water. I had no idea it was coming and breathe water into my nose. It fucking burns, and I’m choking when he brings me up.

As a cop, I thought about being shot, stabbed, or even dying in a car accident. I handled it and rarely thought about the consequences of my job. Drowning terrifies me. Kennedy pushes my head under the water again. This time I breathe out slowly through my nose until there’s no air left in my lungs.

Once more he jerks me up by my hair, this time adding pressure beneath my elbow until I’m standing. My teeth chatter, which I’m guessing is because I’ve gone into shock. I’m brought out of it quickly when Kennedy cruelly twists one of my nipples.

This isn’t happening. I think of Moon. His voice. His smile. His laugh. I ignore what Kennedy is doing as he twists the other one. He doesn’t take it any further than that. He thankfully wraps a towel around me and dries me off with quick proficiency. There’s a knock at the door and a set of yellow scrubs are thrust into Kennedy’s hand when he opens it.

“I’ll cut the tape from your arms and legs. If you fight, you can go out there naked. Do you understand?”

I lower my head and play the subdued little girl. “Yes,” I mumble as I seethe.

He cuts the tape from my ankles first. It’s really hard not to kick him in the face while he’s down and pulling off the tape. I bide my time swearing to kill him if given the opportunity. He stands, turns me around, and cuts the tape at my wrists. I wince when I pull my arms forward. I hate that my shoulder makes me weak.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I tell him in a whiny, scared voice.

He gives a low, sardonic chuckle. “I should make you piss in front of me. You’re lucky I’m not into that shit. There’s nothing in here that you can use as a weapon, so don’t try. You aren’t the first woman who’s been kept here. Get dressed when you finish up.” He gives me a slight push away from the door and walks out. I close the door behind him. There’s no lock.

I grab the scraps of my pants thinking only about my underwear, which I’ve forgotten were cut off too. Something hard in the lower leg pocket swings against me and I realize it’s Moon’s phone. God, I would give anything to call him. It’s damp, semi-protected by the thick BDU material and not filled with water. This is the only thing that’s gone right for me so far. I grab the towel Kennedy used on me, dry the outside of the phone, and pray. I have only one chance at this. I step over and sit on the toilet to pee. I’m hoping the sound keeps Kennedy from opening the door. The phone seems to be working. I go to Settings and turn on the locate feature. I need to hide it, but if I open a drawer or cabinet, Kennedy might hear. I bend slightly and push the phone behind the toilet. I finish my business, flush, and then dress facing the toilet. I can’t see the phone, so I think it’s good.

The scrubs are large on me, but that’s okay. I don’t have a bra on, so a tight shirt would not be ideal. I roll up the bottoms so I don’t trip. I turn to the sink and wash my hands and rinse out my mouth. Kennedy sticks his head in.

“Estephon wants you out there, now. There’s a brush in the right bottom drawer for your hair. Also a toothbrush if you aren’t picky that the last girl who used it is dead.” The glee he has from telling me this is evident by his smirk.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t let him get to me. I act dazed and search for the brush. He swears and reaches around me, pulling it from the bottom drawer. He takes the toothbrush and toothpaste from the top. I refuse to think about the woman who used them last. Nor will I consider why Kennedy is offering me even the slightest amenity.

Kennedy. Dead.
I repeat silently. It’s my mantra.

Chapter Thirty-Eight