Too Far Gone (16 page)

They walked the short distance in silence and her code opened the back gate on the first try. It felt too easy but who, aside from the alarm company, had the need or ability to change the code?

“Where’s the safe?” he asked when they were inside.

She pointed to a doorway tucked under the stairwell behind the kitchen. “This way.” She led him past the rows of well-organized sliding shelves and revealed a pull away shelving unit. She entered the code and the safe door swung open. He saw stacks of jewelry boxes on one side, cash on the other. No ledger, no passports or travel documents, not even a notebook of his transactions with Polzin or the finishing school.

“His passport is missing,” she said. “Desmond must have had that with him. No one else would have known to look here.”

She was right on both counts, but that small relief didn’t squelch his prickling instincts. Maybe it was just the close confines of the glorified closet, but he felt trapped. “We need to go.”

“This may be our best and final chance to connect Desmond to Polzin. We should keep looking.”

“We’ll find another way.” The small window near the ceiling wouldn’t give them a decent escape if they were caught in here. It boiled down to keeping her safe and with every passing second he sensed more
danger
in this situation.

“Wait.” Lauren started pulling the jewelry out of the safe and stacking it on the floor. “There has to be something we can use. At least a clue.”

Mike sympathized. As much as he hated a retreat order, sometimes it was the best option. The federal investigators could sort out this mess. So what if he had to hide her a bit longer? Neither of them had family to miss them. They’d find a secluded spot near the coast. Maybe Hawaii. He’d surf, she’d disguise herself when they wanted to go out. The mysterious disappearance of Lauren Marie Woods would only strengthen her comeback a few months or even years from now. He’d figure out a way to make it sound logical later. First, they had to get out of here.

“Got it,” she said, her voice breathless as she stared into a long, slim jewelry box. “It’s so sick. And simple. If I’m reading this right, they placed orders for women with gemstones. Diamonds for blondes, sapphires for brunettes, and rubies for redheads. That’s why the women were dressed in those sequined gowns last night.” She shook her head. “This page is just the past year. It shows deposits into some account I don’t recognize.” She handed that box to him and reached for another. “Oh my God. It’s the same. This has to be some sort of crazy accounting system.”

Mike put the box back on the stack. He wanted to hear all about it, preferably with a trustworthy FBI agent recording it all. “Let’s lock it up. We’ll tell the Feds all about it, but right now we have to go.”

With a nod, she put everything back in place and locked the safe. As she exited the closet, she skidded to a stop. Mike looked past her to the two men waiting just inside the backdoor. Peter Kozlov and his muscle Nikoli Maksimov.

“Good morning, Miss Woods,” Kozlov said. “Mr. Polzin is expecting you.”

Mike stepped between Lauren and the threat. He wasn’t about to let them take her without a fight. “Polzin will be disappointed, Kozlov.”

Both men glared at him. “You are of no consequence to Mr. Polzin.”

“I know your names and your rap sheets,” Mike explained. “In fact, you’re starring in a documentary I made just last night. You might remember, there were women being sold.”

Maksimov reached for his gun.

“That’s not necessary,” Lauren began, but Mike leaped into action.

He jumped straight for the weapon like a soldier throwing himself over a grenade. Startled by the unexpected move, Maksimov stumbled back and Mike let the momentum carry them into Kozlov. “Run!” he shouted to Lauren as the gun skittered across floor. He pounded the enforcer’s head against the unyielding tile, hoping it would keep him down while he dealt with Kozlov.

A gunshot froze him mid-attack and he feared the worst as he obeyed Kozlov’s order to stand. The kitchen was suddenly full of glowering, oversized Russians. He and Lauren were outnumbered. In their eagerness to pile on the charges against Polzin, they’d walked right into a trap. Another enforcer had Lauren’s hair in a harsh grip and her elbows pinned behind her. At the all-clear signal, Polzin walked in as if he owned the place. Mike nearly laughed. Hell, after everything they’d learned about Trinity that might be true. Mike’s jaw clenched as Polzin’s gaze raked Lauren from head to toe. No way he’d let that bastard touch her.

“At last the lovely Lauren Marie Woods shall be my mistress,” Polzin announced in a conversational tone.

What the hell?
Mike started forward but Maksimov’s weapon bored deeper into his skull.

“Never.” Lauren shook her head despite the grip of the thug holding her.

“You will,” Polzin gripped her chin, leaning close. “It is only fitting that Desmond’s woman will replace the woman he turned against me.”

She spat in his face.

Mike’s heart almost stalled even as he found her bravery magnificent. The woman wouldn’t back down from anything. This wasn’t an act, it was simply what made her so special.

Polzin struck her hard across the cheek.

Mike saw red as fury exploded inside him. Polzin would suffer for touching her. To hell with evidence and feds. To hell with professionalism. The bastard had just sealed his fate.

“You will learn to please me.” A sly smile tilted his lips. “Or you will die trying.”

Mike made up his mind right then and there. Whether Lauren realized it yet or not, she belonged with him. When this was over they needed to have a serious discussion.

Studying the men Polzin had brought along, Mike knew he had an uphill battle, but he would win. Mentally, he prepared himself to maximize the first opportunity to regain control of the situation.

Polzin was going down.

Lauren watched, horrified, as Maksimov and two other burly enforcers took turns pummeling Mike. Two would hold him up while the third drove fists and knees into his torso. He gasped and doubled over as they drove the air from his lungs and punished his kidneys. Tears welled in her eyes as they dragged him out of the kitchen and tossed him into the trunk of the limousine Polzin had arrived in.

Though he didn’t hit her again, Polzin stared her down and, with excruciating calm, made her two options crystal clear. She could get in the limo with him or die right here in Desmond’s kitchen. She followed him outside and hurried to obey when his driver opened the door. Sliding across the leather seat she struggled to mentally prepare for a life-saving performance.

Whatever it took to protect Mike.

Polzin and his men obviously didn’t consider her a physical threat. He’d waved off the suggestion of tying her up and he’d chosen to sit next to her in the passenger compartment with no bodyguard.

She could feel time running out, rushing away from her. When the driver took Santa Monica Boulevard, she assumed they were heading for the finishing school. If Polzin managed to reach the school, she knew he’d never let them leave alive. Making the mental adjustment, she considered her limited options, struggling to remember if Vanya had telegraphed any of Polzin’s weaknesses. She thought back to those brief minutes in the dressing room, replaying Vanya’s interaction with him.

All men had a chink in their armor. It was a matter of finding it and applying the right pressure. Polzin was over-confident, but she couldn’t possibly overpower him. “What must I do?” she asked, pitching her voice into a desperate whisper.

“Everything I require.” He leaned forward. “Peter wanted you. If you displease me, I will let him have you. His preferences run darker than mine, if you can imagine it.”

She didn’t want to imagine anything about either of them. She crossed her legs at the ankle and kept her gaze lowered. “What will it take to save my friend’s life?”

“Forget him. He is likely dying already of internal injuries.” Polzin’s mouth twisted into a malevolent grimace. “A collapsed lung, perhaps. My men know how to cause suffering.”

“He was only trying to protect me. Please let him go.”

“No.”

“I’ll do anything you ask.” She raised her gaze, risking eye contact with her captor. “He’s important to me.”

“He will be
nothing
to you very soon,” Polzin barked. He leaned close, his moist breath hot on her cheek. “
My
wishes are important to you now.
I
am your world, Lauren. You will breathe, eat, and dress on my command and no other.”

She looked away. “I-I understand.”

His hard fingers bit into her chin, dragging her back to face him. “Not yet, but you will in time.”

Lauren knew Polzin expected absolute obedience. She needed to show him the frightened waif, the woman too weak to challenge him. This, she realized, was the most important performance of her life. She had to play it perfectly. Her heart stuttered as the driver took a sharp turn and she was pressed into Polzin. No one had followed them except the big black car Kozlov drove.

Had Officer Cooper ignored her message? Had it been intercepted? She battled against the fear of failure, knowing she had less than an hour before they reached the school. If no help came, she would improvise. She would make a scene that would stall this convoy while there was still a chance for help to arrive.

Several more minutes passed in a charged silence as the limousine and the escort car flowed through traffic. Every minute that passed was another one Mike suffered from his injuries with no help. She had to do something soon.

“Did Desmond ever tell you that you were the catalyst for his finishing school?”

Polzin’s voice made her shudder. She shook her head. He clutched her chin in an iron grip once more and made her look at him.

“You will always answer me with words and the proper respect.”

“Yes, sir.” He released her and she leaned back into the seat cushions, withdrawing as far from him as she dared.

“That is better.” Polzin stroked her thigh gently, making her feel more and more like a dog being trained by a hard master. “We knew each other from parties and such. The first moment I saw you, I wanted you, but he negotiated a more lucrative deal. He would provide me with whatever I desired and he would keep you.”

Her stomach knotted. Desmond had been forced into this scheme in an effort to keep
her
away from Polzin all these years? Why hadn’t he told her? She wasn’t so sure that was all there was to it... she wasn’t ready to see Desmond as any sort of hero.

“You were worth six flawless, blond women to him. Six!” His laughter dripped with cruelty. “Did you know you had such value?”

“No, sir,” she replied quickly.

“That deal was a strong beginning for our business here. I had Desmond where I wanted him. We enjoyed much success.”

She smothered the chill of dread sliding down her spine. Since he hadn’t posed a question, she hoped her silence would be acceptable.

“I should have recognized you in Vanya’s dressing room. Your disguise was brilliant. Seeing your body, even when I had no idea it was you, aroused me. Few women possess that power.”

The need to throw up surged into her throat. She swallowed it back.

“Hmm.” He studied her for a long time, his dark eyes cold and calculating. “Desmond had an eye for excellent quality and he kept you to himself. You will show me why he valued you so.
Now
.”

“Here?” She had her answer as he loosened his belt, but a new hope shimmered when she spotted the grip of a handgun at his waist. If she could get the gun, she might give them a chance.

The car swayed as the driver accelerated along the curves of the Pacific Coast Highway. Soon they would be at the school. She hoped Mike’s contacts had come through better than hers had done. Steeling herself, she covered Polzin’s hands with hers. “Desmond valued my discretion,” she murmured, peering at Polzin through her lashes.

On a grunt, Polzin raised the privacy screen. “Show me what else he valued. On your knees,” he ordered, removing the obnoxious gun and placing it on the seat beside his thigh.

Pushing the humiliation to the back of her mind, she positioned herself between his legs, rocking a little as the car swerved with the road again. Her survival instincts surged into high gear. As seductively as she knew how, she slid his belt free of the buckle, catching her lower lip between her teeth. She had to sell it, had to make him believe she’d accepted she was at his mercy. Unbuttoning his slacks, she pulled his shirt free, careful to keep her eyes off the gun.

A siren sounded nearby and Polzin grabbed her hands, his grip grinding the bones together painfully. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. Sir,” she added quickly, looking around.

He yanked her back up to the seat and tore at her clothing. “Are you wired?” He shoved her jacket off her shoulders and stripped away her shirt.

“No!”

The siren closed in. “Where is your phone!”

“In my purse!” She resisted the urge to look for whatever vehicle was making the noise and prayed enough help had arrived.

He raised his hand to strike her, but the car swerved as the driver turned toward the canyon and his fist mercifully connected with leather instead of her face. “What have you done?” he screamed.

“I didn’t do anything,” she wailed, mounting fear for Mike bringing real tears now.

The limousine engine growled as the driver floored it, but he’d waited too long, the first incline was too steep. She could see the red and blue lights flashing through the windows now. There was no escape for Polzin on the two-lane road.

In a fury, Polzin lowered the privacy screen and shouted at his driver. The police were close, but the driver clearly had orders to keep going.

Lauren fumbled about the back seat for the gun, but it slid out of her reach. She searched frantically for another distraction. Finding the strap of her purse, she rolled it around her hand and swung it at Polzin’s head. The blow only annoyed him and he lunged for her once more.

She scurried out of his reach. The back seat suddenly exploded inward. To Lauren’s shock Mike finished kicking the seat out of his way and launched himself into the passenger compartment. “Get back!” he shouted, lunging for Polzin.

“There’s a gun!” she warned, scrambling as far away from the fight as the car allowed. She prayed Mike would get his hands on the weapon first.

A loud report ripped through the air, followed quickly by a second gunshot. Polzin bellowed what were surely dire threats and curses in Russian. From the floorboards, she watched the blood ooze between Polzin’s fingers as he grabbed for his thigh just above the knee. Based on the sudden swearing from the front seat, the second bullet must’ve hit the driver. The car jerked toward the dangerous edge of the road and Mike pitched himself across Polzin and the divider and into the front seat.

Lauren held her breath, listening to the enraged voices as Mike fought the driver. She prayed they weren’t about to go careening off the road and into the canyon. The car didn’t tip or tumble, but it kept rolling forward. She rushed for the door on hands and knees, ready to get out the instant the car stopped. A brutal grip seized her ankle.

“Not so fast,” Polzin said. “You are mine.”

She kicked at his face as he tugged her closer, her hands clutching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingertips caught in her purse strap and she brought it along as Polzin fought to subdue her.

She refused to go down easy, refused to let him off without a few scars to take with him. For Vanya, she thought, fighting to get the purse strap over his head. For every woman they were too late to save, she would fill Polzin with regrets. He dodged her attempts to gain an advantage. She would not give up. She fought harder, grabbing at the ends of the bastard’s tie.

For Mike, she thought, who might be killed before she could tell him how much she loved every pushy, ripped, treasured facet of him.

“Pull over,” Mike ordered, pressing the barrel of Polzin’s gun against the driver’s temple.

The driver swerved into the oncoming lane. Mike swore. It would be bad enough to fail, worse if that failure included death for him or Lauren, but the last thing this case needed was collateral damage. He reached out and yanked the wheel, keeping them closer to the correct lane. “Pull over or I’ll shoot.”

“Again?” The driver gave Mike a nasty grimace. “Go ahead and shoot. I answer only to Polzin.”

Apparently the driver didn’t care that he’d be answering to the devil soon if he didn’t pull over. Mike heard Lauren struggling with Polzin in the back of the long car. He wanted to take a shot at the bastard but the risk to Lauren was too great. They were all dead if the driver had his way and took them over the cliff’s edge.

Through the windshield there was only sky and sunshine. The incongruity of a violent death on such a clear December day burned through him. He was trained to overcome anyone in any situation. He damned sure wasn’t going to die at the bottom of a cliff courtesy of an insanely loyal driver. No way. Factor in Lauren’s safety and his temper hit an all-new high. He’d just found the woman—the right woman—and he wasn’t about to let these misogynistic human trafficking scumbags decide their fate.

The driver’s jacket was soaked with blood from the bullet Mike had buried in his shoulder, but he drove as though it was nothing more than a mosquito bite.

“Brake!” Mike shouted. They were going into the curve too fast. The jerk accelerated. Left with no choice, Mike slammed the butt of the weapon into the driver’s temple once, twice, then a third time. Unconscious, the man slumped over the wheel. The stubborn bastard was heavy as hell, but Mike shoved the man’s foot off the gas and rammed his own against the brake, bringing the car to a stop on the right side of the road. Sirens blared and lights flashed, turning the limousine into a bad disco set as law enforcement surrounded them. Mike rammed the gearshift into park, set the gun aside, and raised his hands.

The vehicle rocked on the axles as Lauren continued her fight in the back. Mike turned, ready to kill Polzin with his bare hands for merely looking at her, but he did a double take as he surveyed the scene. Lauren wasn’t in jeopardy. In fact, if someone didn’t intervene quickly, Polzin would be headed for the morgue rather than a prison cell. She had Polzin pinned down with her sexy body and had wrapped the end of his tie around one hand, using the knot to cut off his oxygen. His face was already mottled, his eyes wide with panic.

“Lauren, honey,” Mike said quietly. “The police are here.”

“I. Am. Not. Done.” She punctuated each word with a squeeze of the tie around Polzin’s throat.

The mobster’s fingers scratched at the vise around his neck, doing more damage to his skin than the fine silk.

“We’ve got everything we need on him,” Mike reminded her. “He won’t escape.”

“He killed Vanya.” She squeezed again. “Killed Desmond. He would’ve killed you.”

“I’m right here,” Mike said. “Look at me, honey.” She did, her gorgeous silver eyes full of grief and fury. “I’m fine and so are you.”

She blinked rapidly and he watched her face transform as she realized what she was doing. “Oh!” She scooted off Polzin, over the seat, and straight into Mike’s arms. “I was going to—” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Mike gathered her close, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. “You’re going to breathe.” And he was going to take his own advice and do the same.

“I could’ve killed him. Would have.” Her breath shuddered in and out. “Happily.”

“Who could blame you? Just breathe.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and he felt her sucking in big gulps of air.

“You’re okay.” She leaned back, her hands fluttering over his face and shoulders. “You saved us!”

“I’m fine,” he repeated. “You were doing a pretty good job of saving yourself.”