AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pounded on the door again. “Rayma! Are you in there?”
Just as he was about to shove his foot through the glass a Dodge Charger cop car pulled up, parking across three horizontal parking spots. A blonde female cop got out of the driver’s seat, followed by a light brown-haired male police officer roughly the same height and breadth as Jordan.
“What’s the problem here, sir?” The woman asked.
Jordan fished his badge out of his pocket and flashed it at her. “Constable Jordan Lassiter,” he said. “And I have reason to believe two women were lured to this office by employees and are being held against their will.”
“How do you know this?” she asked.
“I spoke with one of the women on the phone. I’ve been pounding on the door and calling her name, but there hasn’t been any answer.”
The male cop wandered around the side of the Charger and held his flashlight up to the window paneling of the door, shining it inside. “I don’t see any movement.”
“I know they’re here,” Jordan said. “And you both know as well as I do that this is a rising problem in the city.” He kept his focus on the female officer whose nametag said L. Hunt. She seemed to be more inclined to believe him than her partner. Her nod confirmed Jordan’s assumption.
“All right, well, let’s go inside and check it out.” The male officer grabbed his baton from his utility belt and taking care not to cut himself, he smashed the glass paneling of the door, reached inside, and unlocked the door from the inside. “Easy peasy,” he said, letting Officer Hunt and Jordan go in ahead of him.
“How do you know one of the women?” Officer Hunt asked.
“She’s a friend. I called her when I saw her leave with these guys to make sure she was okay and she told me she wasn’t. I left where I was in James Bay and raced here while my girlfriend and her cousin called the cops.”
“Victoria Police,” Officer Hunt called out. She shone her light around the empty office, but then flicked it off when her partner found the light switch on the wall and illuminated the entire space.
“Victoria Police,” the male officer whose tag read K. Woodward announced, his voice booming.
Officer Hunt was probably eight or ten years older than Jordan, while Officer Woodward was probably in his mid-forties. Both were in good shape, though, and carried themselves with a confidence that had taken Jordan years to adopt. He still had a long way to go, though.
They approached a closed door.
Officer Hunt reached out and knocked. “Victoria Police.” She didn’t bother waiting for anybody to answer, tried the latch, and pushed open the door.
Dread mixed with relief crashed into Jordan as he took in the scene.
Rayma was crouched next to her unconscious friend who was slumped over in an office chair, her red hair hanging across her face. But even through the veil of hair, Jordan could make out the purple bruise across Peyton’s face.
Fuck.
When Rayma’s eyes found Jordan’s he watched as her shoulders slumped and tears brimmed her eyes. “They ran,” she said, flicking her gaze to the cops. “Out the emergency exit.” She patted Peyton’s cheek. “Come on Pey, you need to wake up.”
Officer Hunt was already calling for an ambulance, while Officer Woodward had left the big conference room with the long table and ten swivel chairs to go check the alternate exit.
Jordan made his way over to Rayma and pulled her to her feet, taking her in his arms.
Fuck, she felt good.
Her body shook with harsh sobs. “We had a bad feeling the moment they brought us here. We asked to leave,” she said through tears and trembles. “But they blocked the door. They … they brought out a bunch of pills. We … we said no, tried to leave … they got mad. Called us cock-teases and … and said that we led them on. Said we wasted their time. When I came out of the bathroom after talking to you, they had just hit Peyton when she called them incel douchebags who have to lure women to get laid.”
Dammit. Another hard-headed woman with zero filter.
“Is that why she’s unconscious?” he asked.
Rayma shook her head. “No. She was still awake when I came out, and she told me what she said.”
The Rayma he knew would have gone after them with both fists swinging, why’d she hold back?
She must have read his mind. “They threatened to rape me if she didn’t take a pill. So she did, or at least she pretended to, but then she spat it out when they weren’t looking, they found it, and then they hit her again. Enough to knock her out.” She peeled out of his arms and went back to Peyton. The woman was still breathing, thank fuck. “I was worried that if I fought back, they would knock me unconscious, too and who knows what they’d do to our bodies, then. I held them off as best I could without actually fighting back.” Ah, that made more sense. Fuck, she was smart.
But then he noticed the small bruise on her cheek and ran to her side again. “You’ve been hit?”
