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"Yeah, he saved her for me, but you know that wasn't what I've been waiting for. She's enjoying herself too much, if you know what I mean." The man leaned in closer to talk more softly. "I've heard rumors you have another, more private, party going on later that might have the kind of merchandise I'm looking for."
"Now sir, you've made it clear you weren't in the market for anything permanent. Only those ready to take possession of their property tonight are invited to the private party."
"Damn, I'd never be able to handle your merchandise long term without my nosey wife finding out. I'm gonna have to give divorce some serious thought." The asshole chuckled, actually fucking chuckled, as if he'd told a funny joke.
Dylan pressed the men. "What the hell are they talking about?"
He couldn't see Derek's face, but he heard anger in his voice. "I'm not sure we want to know."
Jake continued to pull Hannah farther into the room. As they moved forward, the screen in the truck began to flicker before the men's eyes. The sound was cutting in and out, too. Within thirty seconds, the monitor went dark and the only sound over the wire was a scratchy hum.
"FUCK! What the hell happened to our feed?" Dylan reached for the mic, calling out, "Hannah! Hannah! Can you still hear me? We're losing our feed. I can't see or hear you, honey." He turned frantically to his brother to ask, "What the hell happened? Did he find the camera on her and rip it out?"
Derek reached out, trying to calm him. "I don't think so. It seems more like the room they're in has scramblers to prevent any transmissions in or out for security reasons. That fucker Davenport really does have all the top-end toys."
"Toys? This isn't a goddamn game!"
"Calm your ass down. To be honest, I'm not surprised. With the high-end equipment he has, I'm kinda surprised this didn't happen sooner."
Dylan didn't even try to stop his fist from connecting with his brother's jaw. Derek had fifty pounds on him, but anger gave him the edge. Derek fell backwards, losing his footing and slamming into Z who stood behind him, barely keeping them both on their feet. Dylan knew he'd hurt his brother because his own hand hurt like a sonofabitch.
"You asshole! You sent her in knowing there was a chance this would happen? Knowing we'd lose our connection to her?" He lunged forward to put his hands around his brother's neck but was held back by Mitchell's arms keeping him back.
"That's it. You're out of control. You need to remember we're not the enemy here, junior," Lukus said calmly.
"The hell you're not! I could have had her to the California-Arizona border by now!"
Lukus's voice was low in his ear. "And then what? Look over your shoulder every day for the rest of your lives? She had to give the journal back. You know it. Davenport was never gonna let her leave with it."
"We could have mailed the fucking book to him." A wave of nausea hit Dylan. "We sent her in there. We're responsible for her.I'mresponsible for her." His vision blurred as emotional tears threatened to flow.
The hell if I'm gonna cry like a pussy. I need to stay strong to get her out of there.
Cameron's voice interrupted them, defusing the situation. "Hello? Can we get back to work? Now that I know there was a link between Davenport and Hannah's father, I was able to do some cross-referencing of their known contacts. You guys aren't gonna like this, but I think I know what the private party is all about. It looks like the only perps who managed to get out of the hot water a few years ago when the shit hit the fan were several high-powered sheiks and businessmen from the Middle East and Eastern Bloc countries that didn't have extradition. My guess is that the raids shut down their market for young flesh and Jake was all too happy to fill the void with his own auctions. I sure as hell hope it isn't underage victims. Adults are bad enough."
The men in the room were silent; unsure what to do with this new information. It made sense that the event they were talking about could be an auction. All this time, he'd been tracking a real-life human trafficker. Never had Dylan wished more that he'd just killed Jake Davenport when he'd had the chance. He'd have been doing the world a fucking favor.
I won't make that mistake again. I don't care if I spend the rest of my life behind bars. Killing the bastard will happen the next time our paths cross.
He heard Lukus on the phone behind him. Apparently, his boss felt exactly the same way. He was shouting into the phone at his contact at the FBI. "I had you guys on high alert. I told you things were gonna move fast. You need to get your asses over here or we won't wait." He quieted while someone on the other end screamed at him loudly enough that Dylan could hear the muffled yelling through the cell phone. He couldn't hear the words, but he had a pretty good idea of the gist when Lukus retorted, "Thirty minutes. You have thirty minutes to get your asses to our rendezvous, or my team and I are going in without you." He waited again before replying. "Then I guess you'd better hang up and haul ass."
Lukus ended the call, but immediately made another. Whoever he was talking to at the other end of the line picked up fast.
"Hey, it's going down. You're at the loft, right?" He waited before adding, "And Aiden is there, too?" More silence. "Good. Call Ethan. Have him close the club until further notice. Don't let the girls out of your sight. I'm not gonna relax until Davenport is in a body bag. And Markus... watch your back."
When Lukus had hung up, Dylan couldn't help but dish him shit. "So your women are tucked away safe and sound with armed guards thousands of miles away from here, but you'll send my woman into the lion's den without any protection? What a fucking hypocrite you are."
Lukus stepped up to look him in the eye. Dylan could see his genuine concern for Hannah in his eyes, and remembered that Lukus Mitchell wasn't his enemy. "Since when is Hannah Martineyourwoman?"
Dylan didn't hesitate. "Since right now."
The men squared off. Lukus looked conflicted before finally answering. "We wait thirty minutes. If the FBI can't get their shit together by then, we'll go in. Let's get our bulletproof gear on and load up. We're going in hot."
Chapter Eleven
Hannah
"Dylan... please... talk to me... please... " Hannah was running out of time as she frantically whispered, hoping the small microphone in her earring would pick up her voice over the loud din of sex and punishments surrounding her.
