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The men refused to lower their weapons until Connor's childish voice called for her. "Mommy!"
Hannah was watching Dylan and saw the surprise register in his grey eyes as Connor ran up from behind her to throw his three-year-old arms around her legs, clinging to her, afraid of the big bad men with guns pointed at his mommy. All three guns were lowered to the floor.
Hannah heard Mama Rosa's wheelchair approaching from behind. "I have my cell phone. I'm calling 9-1-1 in exactly thirty seconds if you aren't out of here." Her accent may have been thick, but the men understood.
With the emergency diffused, Hannah turned, pulling Connor up into her arms where he clung to her like a monkey. "It's okay, Rosa. These are actually the good guys. I've been having some trouble with a guy at work, and these men are trying to help me get him out of my life."
Rosa looked each of the men up and down suspiciously before visibly relaxing. She didn't let them off the hook, though. "Where I come from, the good guys come in through the front door and not the side window," she scolded.
Lukus answered sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am."
Hannah snuggled against Connor to hide her smile at the sight of the man who was obviously used to being in charge looking contrite. Her eyes met Dylan's as his own grin lit up his face. She felt the flush in her cheeks under his scrutiny, liking how he made her feel safe when he was around.
Too bad safety was an illusion.
Lukus took charge. "We didn't know you had a son. This complicates things."
Hannah couldn't stop her snarky reply. "You think? I can't let anything hurt Connor."
"Where's Connor's father?" It was Dylan probing this time.
A familiar panic rose in her at that question. "That's none of your damn business. He's not in our lives anymore." She hadn't meant to bite his head off. How could he know Connor's parentage was a very difficult topic?
"Whoa. Let's all stay calm." Ironically, it was Dylan's muscular brother who tried to defuse the situation. He leapt into motion, surprising everyone in the room when he moved forward slowly to reach his hands out to Connor. "Well hello there, young man. My name is Derek. How would you like to go with me next door to your neighbor's so your mommy can talk with my friends?"
Connor clung to her harder, afraid of the hulk of a man. He stood over a foot taller than her, and Hannah had to force herself to look up into Derek's eyes. She saw an odd gentleness there she hadn't expected from a man with visible tattoos and rippled muscles. It was strange, but in that moment she knew the safest place in the world for Connor was with this guy.
"It's okay, baby. These are mommy's friends. You don't need to be afraid of them," she whispered to her son.
When Connor refused to relinquish his hold on his mom, Derek spoke to him gently. "I bet you didn't know that my wife is pregnant and I'm about to be a dad for the first time. I'm hoping we have a boy just like you, but I'm afraid I don't know much about being a dad. Do you think you could do me a big favor and show me your favorite toys so I know what to buy for my own son?"
Hannah felt Connor wiggling so he could look at the big scary man holding his hands out. She could feel him relaxing slowly. "It's okay. Can you go with Derek and show him your toys over at Mama Rosa's?"
She moved closer and Derek reached in to take Connor from her arms. He may not have kids of his own yet, but she suspected he was going to be a good father.
Lukus waited until Derek, Connor and Rosa had returned next door, closing the connecting door behind them before he spoke. "Let's sit down at the table. We have a lot to talk about."
Hannah let herself be led to the small round table where she and Connor ate their meals. Dylan was a gentleman and pulled her chair out for her, taking the one closest to her for himself as his boss sat across the table.
They sat in an awkward silence before Lukus took charge. "I know this will be hard for you, but I need you to tell me all you can about Jake Davenport. Have you been inside the warehouse? Do you have any evidence of illegal activity?"
You mean like how he rapes the women who work for him?
She couldn't get the words out. "I've never been inside the warehouse, no. I've only gone out with him once. On the way to the restaurant, we stopped by there and I waited in the car while he went inside for about fifteen minutes. I watched a lot of shady looking people going in and out. When I asked him about it, he said he'd be happy to share the details of what happens in there as soon as I agreed to work for him."
Dylan interrupted. "And did you? Agree to work for him?"
The memories from a few nights before were still fresh. Rage warred with fear, keeping her silent. The men waited patiently until she spoke quietly. "Jake doesn't take no for an answer."
"What does that mean?" Dylan's voice was soft, but she could tell he wasn't going to settle for vague answers.
Vulnerability had her lashing out at him. "What do you think it means? I knew I shouldn't have gone to his house, but like an idiot, he wooed me into thinking he had this lucrative job for me. He gave me gifts. Promised me a job in accounting like I've worked so hard to get."
Lukus interjected next. "Only, he didn't explain the small print of what he expected from his employees until it was too late, did he?"
She looked away from the two dominant men. Talking about what had happened to her was hard enough. With two men she barely knew, it felt impossible. The feel of Dylan taking her hand under the table made her jump. He squeezed her hand supportively, twining their fingers together in a way that felt comforting.
She closed her eyes, unable to look at them as she told her story. "His house is a fortress. Once he gets you inside, you are trapped there until he decides to let you out." She hesitated, letting the tears seep between her closed lids to streak down her cheeks. "He forced me to get naked first before he..." She stopped to gulp for a breath, "Before he tied me down across his desk and whipped me with his belt and a wooden paddle until I was screaming. Nothing I said or did would make him stop. In fact, the more I struggled, the more he seemed to like it."
