Page 83 of Deadly Aloha
“They,” all six of us corrected at once.
Reacher’s eyebrows rose up. “Pardon?” He had the same accent as Hurricane.
“They,” I repeated. “Neo is non-binary.”
“Uh, right.” Reacher cleared his throat. “Sorry.Theygave me the information on your guy. Sorry to say, he seems like your typical Wall Street guy.”
“How far is he from here?” I asked, itching to get going.
“’bout a half hour. If pattern holds, he’ll be leaving for work any minute. His house will be empty for us to get in and get your girl without a fuss.”
My hands clenched. “She’s my girl’s best friend.”
“Right,” he said shortly. Then he tipped his head back towards his ride. “We want to get going. We’re going to hit traffic either way with this thing.”
I took the passenger seat as the others climbed into the two rear rows. Most of us had left our packs on the plane, since it would be remaining here until we were ready to head home, and only had our weapons on us. The twins were sharing an apple between them that they’d gotten from a fruit basket on the plane. I’d only had a swig of a whiskey to keep me warm and some leftover pie this morning.
The drive to Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV’s estate was mostly in silence. We had no idea what we were about to find. Given what we’d seen in Amsterdam and Russia, though, our hopes weren’t high that Nishi would be in good health and standing. She was going to need medical attention, and likely more than Tommy could provide her. There was a good chance she was also hooked on drugs to keep her compliant.
And it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibilities that she was pregnant too.
I’d had a lot of sex in my life, and it was well established that I was a bit of an asshole. I was most certainly a murderer. I was a thief on occasion, though not so much recently. An outsider looking at me would call me a crook, a criminal. The scum of the world.
But I hadnever, wouldnever, take a woman against her will. To be bought and sold like livestock? It was dehumanizing, but to be used as nothing more than an object for another’s pleasure?
We’d done some questionable storylines in shoots. The prospect offorcein sex could be very arousing, but there was a big difference between a roleplaying game between consenting adults and buying a woman on the Black Market, knowing you were going to rape her.
There was a special place in luaahi for Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV. I didn’t know if luaahi was the same place as Hell, but I’d sure as fuck make the Wall Street tycoon’s last minutes a living hell. Just in case.
The fact that he wasn’t going to be home when we got there was just bad timing of arriving early in the morning instead of late at night. Neo did not believe the man had any hired security, which was too bad. I was itching for a fight.
However, records did show that the man was married. We had no idea if the wife was aware of her husband’s depravities or not. I would make the decision as to what to do with the wife once we figured out if she was just a gold digger or a willing partner.
As much as it chafed to know I’d have to wait to get my hands on Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV, the more sensible side of me knew it was best to get into his estate, get Nishi, andthenexact retribution after she was being medically attended to.
Still didn’t like it though. I was out for blood, and that was no secret.
The house itself reminded me of Bacon’s. The biggest difference was that there wasn’t a vastness of land surrounding the large estate. Its small lawn was in pristine condition, but it was like there was an imaginary spotlight on the property. Alook at how rich I amvibe that was beyond pretentious. Whereas Bacon’s home was set back amongst trees and land, this home was out front and center. Four stories, a rooftop indoor pool with a glass dome, and a marble staircase.
I hadn’t even met the man, and I knew just by looking at his house that he was a giant douchebag. Add in a human trafficker, and the man was just begging to have his balls bitten off by a triggerfish.
There was no place to hide the SUV. We couldn’t sneak up on the estate or hide from the neighbors if we came at it from the front. The back wasn’t much better, but at least it had some coverage. What the fuck was up with suburbia? It was like they were having separation anxiety from the city life and were too afraid to put any distance between their homes.
Mind, I was about to move twelve club members into a bunkhouse across from my house, or where my house had been. I really didn’t have room to talk anymore.
Pun intended.
We checked for an alarm system first. Depending on how he was holding Nishi, he might have the property rigged to tell him if someone was trying to escape. But there wasn’t anything. There was evidence of an old system, but nothing active. That made me wonder if we were missing something. Like maybe the old system was a ploy.
Reacher joined us. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with having a stranger at my back, but we were short on time and offending Hurricane would only delay my returning home. Fuck.
As Spirit slipped into the four-car garage, Tangaloa showed me a message from Neo saying that satellite imagery showed noone in the house. For good measure, I held my middle finger up at the sky. Satellite imagery could suck my dick. Nishi was here; I knew it in my bones. We just had to find her. Whatever heat sensor or whatever the fuck the satellite used to detect people must be blocked by something. If Superman couldn’t see through lead, maybe Big Brother in the sky couldn’t either.
The shortest entry point from our cover was a small window on the left side of the house. Spirit unlocked it from inside, and one by one we slipped across the manicured grass to enter. Last thing we needed was some nosy Karen getting in our way or calling the police.
There was no fucking way Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV was going tojail.
As soon as Reaper was through the window, we closed it and had a look around. We were in a fancy-ass dining room. Why the fuck was it necessary to have a table for ten with full place settings for a house where, officially, only one man and one woman lived?
