Page 60 of Dirty Gambit

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Lena stressed. “I found out that she’d joined his … crew. I thought she might be one of his runners or one of the kids he got to break into houses. He likes using kids to do his dirty work, but they’re impossible to get to unless you join. So, I did. I even signed up to do a few jobs, hoping I might come across her at some point.” Lena bit her lip and paused to catch her breath. “I hadn’t expected that he might have taken a liking to her.” She broke off again, rage tightening around her words, around her chest, and the curled fingers in her lap. “He got her hooked on heroin first. That’s how he gets most of his girls to stick around. But Lissa must have still had some sense in her head. When she found out she was pregnant, she ran away. She got away from Travis.” She smirked, pride flashing through her. “She stayed hidden through her entire pregnancy. No one from Travis’s crew knew. Even Travis couldn’t be bothered to find some junkie runaway, or he forgot. For a while, she was in the clear.”

“But he found out about Jessie,” Frankie prompted when Lena’s grin slipped and her chin lowered.

She nodded. “It was my fault. My poking around and asking about Lissa … it must have reminded Travis that one of his girls was missing. He had one of his lieutenants hunt her down. He didn’t find anyone named Lissa, but a girl fitting her description was found in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by garbage and needles, holding a newborn, baby girl. She’d bled out.” She stopped to take a breath around the crushing force resting on her chest. “Jessie was a few hours old. A couple of joggers heard her crying in that shit hole and called the cops. But if I had kept my mouth shut, Travis would have gone on never thinking of Lissa again. He never would have found out about Jessie or Lena, but he had. His lieutenant brought back Jessie’s medical records, her adoption papers. There was even a photo of Lissa after she was found. That’s how I knew it was her. I don’t even know how he got that stuff, but he left the file on Travis’s desk back at the warehouse and I knew I couldn’t let him see it. Stealing it bought me a few days, but I knew he could just get copies. It was only a matter of time before he was on Jessie’s doorstep.” Lena raised her head and fixed Frankie with every ounce of venom and fear in her. “I had to protect her.”

“You couldn’t just come to the house, knock, and explain the situation?”

For a second, Lena stared at her wondering if maybe she’d underestimated the woman’s intelligence. “Look at you and look at me. How do you think Nicole and Richard Westwick would have reacted if some gutter trash waltzed up to their billion-dollar mansion, raving about a rapist, drug trafficker on his way to take his daughter back? At best, they call the cops Travis has on his payroll and I somehow end up in the gutter, death due to a mysterious overdose while rats feast on my eyeballs.”

Frankie grimaced. “That’s the best case scenario? I’m afraid to ask what the worst would be.”

“The worst would be they don’t believe me and get murdered in their beds.” The humor vanished from Frankie’s face and Lena pressed on. “My point is that the only way I could think to keep them and Jessie alive was if Jessie was nowhere near the Westwicks. He’d learn that the child was kidnapped and turn his efforts to finding her, leaving Jaxon and his family unharmed.” She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs for what needed to be said. “But none of that matters now because Travis knows I’m the one who took his money. He may or may not have forgotten about Jessie entirely, or he doesn’t know about her yet. If we give him me—”

“No.” Jaxon darkened the doorway, a stunning sight in fresh jeans and a gray t-shirt. His hair was no longer damp but still shone in the light of the room. It was shoved back from his face, minus a few unruly strands falling into his eyes. They were ignored as he surveyed her from across the room with the intensity of a feral cat. “I already told you, that isn’t happening.”

Frankie twisted in her seat to face him, cutting short Lena’s prepared protest. “What did your parents have to say?” she asked.

Jaxon passed over the threshold and started towards them, his movement as hypnotic and possessive as earlier that afternoon with the trucker. It was the motions of a man fully aware of his own strength and power, and not afraid to use both. The sight of him made Lena’s senses prickle with awareness. Her stomach muscles fluttered, and she felt a hard kick in her chest.

“They want Jessie home immediately,” he replied, speaking to his aunt but keeping all his focus on Lena. “I was able to talk them out of calling anyone until I’ve had a chance to sit with them in person.”

“And they agreed?” Frankie remarked, seeming surprised by the decision.

“I promised them a thorough explanation,” Jaxon replied, stopping once he could prop a shoulder against the bedpost closest to Lena and fold his arms. “I think they were just relieved Jessie was okay.”

Lena wanted to argue that, of course, Jessie was okay. Did they really think she would hurt a child? But his parents didn’t know her. Their fears were understandable.

“Why aren’t you eating?” The question was followed by a jerk of his chin in the direction of the forgotten tray and the now cool soup.

“I guess I forgot,” she murmured, not entirely lying.

Rather than call her bluff, he pushed away from the post and moved to pluck the tray up. Without a word, he placed it on her lap, forcing her to accept it.

“You’ve had three granola bars since I’ve met you,” he remarked lazily, returning to his leaning position against the post. “Eat.”

Heat crept into her cheeks at the thought of him paying that close of attention, but she masked it under a frown. “You’re very bossy.”

Jaxon hoisted up a shoulder nearly to his ear. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re either going to eat on your own or I’m going to spoon-feed you.” Ignoring her scowl, he turned his attention to the other woman in the room. “I’m going to borrow Robinson tomorrow and head back with Jessie. Can Lena stay here until I return?”

“Who’s Robinson?” Lena interjected. “And why am I staying here?”

“Robinson is a helicopter and you’re staying here so I can talk to my parents.”

He shoved away from the post a second time. Only this time, he rounded to her other side and shoved her suitcase over to make room for the hip he propped against the edge of the mattress. He took the spoon and bowl off the tray she still held between her hands and scooped up a generous helping of carrots and peas. The morsel was brought to her mouth.

“I can feed myself!” she snapped, head recoiling back.

“You have yet to prove that to me. Now, open. Open or you’re going to ruin your pretty dress.”

She told herself it was only because she didn’t want the thick broth dripping on her outfit when she parted her lips to him obediently. He was a smart man and kept the self-satisfied grin she could see reflecting in his eyes off his face when he slipped the spoon between her teeth.

The hearty mixture of meat and vegetables exploded across her tongue. It triggered the whine in her belly, reminding her just how hungry she actually was. She opened willingly for the second spoonful.

“Isn’t that better?” he coaxed, sliding a third mouthful inside her. He only smirked when she shot him a scowl.

“Stop your grinning, Westwick,” she mumbled around a hard swallow. “You’re not that clever.”

“I don’t know,” he heaped more soup onto the spoon and eyed her, “I think I’m pretty clever.”

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