SEIZED Part 1: New Adult Romantic Suspense (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (3 page)

Someone as deep in the organization as Lee must have an institutional ability to shut off and separate the compartments of his life. Denial this powerful is built over generations. Humanity’s ability to normalize atrocious acts under the label of business, and then head home for dinner, shocks me. There’s something so carelessly brutal, killing for satisfaction like cats, killing for fun and profit.

I pull out photos of the top guys in his organization; they’re a mixture of white, black and Latino, a ruthless line-up of murderers and pimps. This is my way in. One of these faces will crack and spill the goods. All I’ve gotta do is get them at the right time and place.

These are the guys who do his dirty work. The Italians won’t have a part in this, but every other unit in town is connected to one of these men. I know I’ll find them in the parlors or at the gym. There’s a reason for cliché and these guys are it. White or black, they’re all over the Brooklyn gangsta look. Chains and knuckle-dusters, caps and face tattoos, it’s like a fashion show of criminal accessories.

Who does he trust the most? I need to get inside his head. I need to think like he thinks in order to pull this off. With a groan, I look again at the clock. Nearly four in the morning, and time to quit work and hit the weights. After shutting down my computer and locking the file cabinet, I grab my gym bag and head downstairs to change. The locker rooms are empty just before shift changeover, and I’m glad to be alone.

I strip out of my jeans and dress shirt. Detectives are in plain clothes, but I still like to pull myself together. Brenda even ironed my shirt this morning. She’s a good sister, generous with her time and a great mom. I’ve been sharing the rent at their place for a few months now. It makes me feel good to give back. She didn’t have the sweetest childhood, either. Life is tougher for women, I think.

Swinging the gym door open, I see I’m alone in here, too. Good. Just the way I like it. Not many freaks will be up early enough to work out before the start of the next shift, so the gym is mine to try and forget the day. I need to get those kids out of mind. It’ll be too easy to lose perspective and sleep if I don’t. I head over to the treadmill to warm up. Programing in a tough course, I put my head down. Within minutes I’m sweating. This is what I’ve needed. A release. I up the incline and go faster, pushing my body to the limits. The steady pound of my feet falls in time with my heartbeat and I find the rhythm.

A few years ago you wouldn’t catch me working out, but I’ve changed a lot. The force gave me some discipline. The structure keeps me together. There’s no time to lie around thinking. No time to feel guilty. It’s getting hot now, so I take off my shirt and use it to wipe the sweat from the keypad. Seeing myself in the reflection of the doors, I grin. Anyone who knew me back then wouldn’t recognize me now. Life is good.

Carrie

I
want to scream, but nothing comes out. April looks terrified, and rightly so. Her attacker is huge and he’s not alone. The hulks are dressed in black, wielding dirty guns. Her pale cheek has a dark grease mark where he’s pressing the weapon. I know I need to do something but all my training doesn’t touch the sides of this fear.

It’s like I’m paralyzed. Everything I’ve learned in the Dojo deserts me. My mind is blank and my stomach seizes. Time slows down. The men say nothing to each other, but I can see they’re working together. One signals the other to ease up on her face. April’s captive doesn’t look willing, though he grunts and lowers the weapon. In the streetlight I see the mangled burns on his hands. Now he’s got her by the neck and she’s starting to choke, her eyes bulging.

She makes eye contact with me for a second and her moan reminds me of a wild cat. She’s twisting and trying to breathe. He laughs at her attempt and shakes her body like a wet towel. A scream slips from her mouth but he silences her with two fast bashes to the temple. Her head tips back. Blood is already gushing from the wound as he holsters the weapon. I’m sickened at her limp form, draped almost suggestively against him. There’s one breast exposed from her halter top, and it’s the sight of that pink nipple that snaps me out of my trance.

I look around and notice the street is quiet. It must be close to four in the morning, but the only cars on the road are those parked in lines along the pavement. There’s a trash can close by, and I wonder if there are any bottles inside. I silently edge toward it, moving slowly to avoid their attention. So far they seem focused solely on April, so I keep inching over. My heart is pounding, but I know have to do something to help my best friend.

April’s the only one who really understands me. She annoys me, but I love her, and I know she’s not strong enough for this. They’ll kill her and she won’t fight. The girl spends her life in vet clinics and horseback riding. She’s never learned to protect herself. She never had any need, and couldn’t understand why I was so devoted to Judo. I rummage in the trash with one hand, going by touch and trying not to make a sound as the nightmare plays out like a movie in front of my eyes. This can’t be real, but it is. I can see the blood on her dress and the pain in her face as she starts to come to.

My hand finally settles around the neck of a wine bottle, but before I can do a thing they’re dragging her toward the car. April is struggling again, her feet kicking uselessly at the two thugs who have her. They wrestle her toward the vehicle with almost no effort.

Smashing the bottle against the steel trash can, it shatters, and I’m armed. The noise spurs her on but riles them up.

“Carrie!” she screams through the chokehold on her neck, and by then they’ve seen me standing there staring with my broken bottle and my short skirt. There’s a sense of urgency in the air as they begin to move quickly into an attack formation. I see these guys are trained, but they’re not the only ones, and my vision clears as I look down at my jagged glass stake.

Hurrying now, they crunch April’s slender form violently into the trunk of the black sedan. One slams the door down and begins to talk into an earpiece while the other two run at me. Ice freezes each vertebrae of my spine, and I’m locked in place for a second, watching their black clad forms advance.

It’s all happening so fast, but so slowly. I can hear the heavy breathing and see the pockets in their shirts rise and fall. My vision is crystal clear as my training kicks in, and I know what to do. I take a vital second to plant my feet in a fighter’s stance.

It’s all I can do to get stable before they tackle me. We go down hard but I’m good on the floor and scramble away as one gets hold of my foot. Kicking back hard my heel connects with his eye, and I hear a grunt. He rolls away from me toward the wall, blood spatters, and my confidence returns.

Just then I’m stunned by a slap to the back of head. My face bounces off the concrete, and I feel pressure in my ears. Tears pour from my eyes and I see a piece of ancient bubble gum on the pavement next to my face. I’m stunned by the pain shooting down my neck, but I make sure not to move, needing to trick them into thinking I’m down.

I lie there for a second, ignoring the pain. Their guns must be in the car; I’d be dead otherwise. My mind clears as I calculate the best course of action. One of the thugs is lying nearby, still holding his head. There’s blood pouring out the eyehole of his ski mask. Another’s in the driver’s seat, revving the engine and yelling. There’s one to my left and one near the car door.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins and fuels a primal anger. Wild rage has me up and off the pavement. Baring my teeth, I run headfirst at the guy on my left, bottle extended. He’s busy focusing on the car, trying to hear what the driver is saying. The bottle, then my body, slams into his chest. I may not be tall, but I’m no lightweight, and I hear the wind go out of him. He’s off balance so I plunge my knee once and then twice into his groin for extra measure.

He goes down, and I feel a rush of pride.
Yeah, boy!
Then, two strong hands are around my neck and I drop the bottle. The pressure shocks me. My throat feels like it’s going to implode, and my lungs heave for air. I twist my pelvis and elbow him in the side. I know I’ve hit his liver when he falters and I use that second to twist away and run. His hands grab at my hair, and I feel a chunk of it rip out as I struggle like a delinquent puppet trying to escape. If the other guy gets up, this is over. The only plan is to run. I’m tiny compared to them, but I’m fast. I ran track in high school. Endless hours pounding the oval helped me process everything and escape. Running saved me back then, and I need it to save me now. If only I had proper shoes. With a grunt, I break free, and he loses his grip on my hair. I know I’ll have a bald patch, but I only have seconds to put some distance between us. April’s purse bumps at my hip as I bolt. It nearly catches on the trashcan and my stomach drops, certain it’s over, but then I’m free and the air feels wet on my face.

I’m halfway away across the road before I even know what’s happening. My lungs hurt, my head hurts, and my breath hitches with every step. I’m gasping in panic and fear. The sound is so loud; I’ll never be able to hide like this. I pump my arms desperately, speeding up, frantic to escape, but I’m sure they’re behind me. My stocking clad feet seem clumsy. I’m not fast enough to make it. I nearly trip and I cut myself, but the pain is secondary to the panic that’s surging through me. The anger is gone now, smacked out of me by that cold concrete. All there is is fear and cold sweat between my breasts.

They’ve got April and I’m next.
I’m next
; the words are looping in my brain as I clear another block and dart toward a mini mart. My skirt is nearly up around my waist but I don’t care. I’m scared, adrenaline pounding as I look frantically through the cashier’s window. The store is lit but no one can see me.

I swear I can hear them coming up behind me, so I run toward a row of parked cars, throwing myself at the back wheels of one. I manage to roll underneath before the impact of the fall really hits me. Blood is still pouring from my forehead and my head swims. I know I need to hide, so I try not to breathe or make a sound. Two pairs of black boots pass right by my head, and I nearly vomit in fear. I’m holding myself, starting to shake and praying for a miracle as they track backward and forward on both sides of the car.

They’re not giving up. The search for me is thorough enough that I know this isn’t some random crime. The pain in my head begins to detach me from my body. I’m lying there bleeding and holding in the sobs as I start to realize that
this
is it. I’m going to die. They need to find me and eliminate me. I’m a witness, and it’s only a matter of time.

The sound of the approaching hot dog cart is sweet music to my ears. I hear a muffled conversation followed by the sound of running, and then three car doors slamming. The sedan guns its powerful motor, and the tires screech as those bastards take off and I’m left alone.
Shit.
They’ve got April. My friend is going to die. The sobs finally come, wracking my body. I crumple against the dirty wheel of the car. I can smell the rubber and feel the pain. I need to sleep. I need to get away.

The hot dog guys sees me as he stops for a smoke and his shocked expression makes me realize I’ve got to get up. Every second counts. I can’t let April down. I need cops now. There’s no time to wait around. Those bastards have her. Scrambling out from underneath the car, I ignore his plea to sit down. Now is not the time for sitting. I start running again. I’ve no idea where I’m going, but I don’t care. I can hardly see the pavement ahead of me. My mind is full of the past. Images I haven’t seen in years start to flash in front of my eyes. It’s a horror show in my head. Every second is worse but I just clutch myself and run faster.

The nerves in my back send a sharp pain down my legs. Something feels broken. I stop, trying to get a sense of where I am. I must have run twenty blocks by now. Barefoot and bleeding, I know I look like a madwoman, but someone has to be awake.
Anyone!
Up ahead, I see an off-duty patrol car turn into a driveway. They’ve already disappeared behind a fence, but I start shrieking for their attention anyway. I run, tripping and nearly falling toward the gate just as it’s closing.

The barbed wire on top rattles with the impact and I see it’s a car park full of police cars. I throw my body against the metal of the fence.

“I need some help,” I cry out, before sinking to the pavement. My voice comes out strangled, I know my hair is matted with blood, and my face is a mess. They must have seen me approach as within seconds the gates start to slide open again.

Two female officers pull me to my feet. Their voices cut through the tinnitus and fear in my head. Finally, I know I’m safe. I stumble past rows of cars and wait for the roller door. We make our way up the ramp and into the back caverns of the station. My eyesight fades in and out. I can hear them asking me questions but the voices are a blur. I’m clutching April’s handbag and tugging at my skirt. Blood is still dribbling from my forehead. The lights are too bright I need to eat. The alcohol and the pain have left me shaking.

I’m ushered into a small room with a table. I’m left alone. The cup of water they give me is gone in a second. Are they watching me now through the pane? I feel desperation start to claw at the surface again.

“I need to see someone now!” I’m up at the glass, leaving smudges on it with my demands and starting to panic. I can’t be alone right now.

The door opens, and a nerdy looking young officer walks in. He’s asking me what’s happened, but all I can do is babble.

“April, they took her, she’s gone.”

He’s trying to find out who hit me. “Are you married, ma’am?” I realize if I don’t calm down, no one’s going to listen, so I say, “No, I’m not married, I was out with my friend and someone attacked us.” The sobs come, as everything that’s happened in the last hour hits me at once and I choke up.

“Who were you with when it happened, ma’am?” he asks, his kind brown eyes showing nervousness, and I can tell he’s new. Sobbing, I finally manage to get out my story while he takes notes. I tell him about April, about the club. I tell him how I got away, and I show him my injuries. He takes notes and seems sympathetic but nothing more.