“Protective custody?” Becca wrapped her arms around herself, frowning at the Special Agent in Charge, a man in his late-forties. He and two other FBI agents had shown up at the door exactly at seven, and had immediately taken Becca into her mom’s small art studio to talk to her alone.
She’d told them everything. Every awful and sordid detail right from the beginning until now.
Shame crawled through her, yet there was a sense of relief too. Relief that everything was out in the open now, and that something was being done to punish Rick for what he’d put her and her mom through all these years. But she wasn’t sure she liked the sound of protective custody.
The agent pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, nodding. “For your safety until we can apprehend Rick. We’re already following up leads on him now, and once we have a definite location, we’ll act immediately to bring him in. So in all likelihood it shouldn’t be more than a few days at the most.”
She didn’t love the idea of being separated from her mom or Chase right now. Telling her mom about what had happened had been awful. Her mom was fragile right now, and even with the staff here to watch her, Becca was scared about what she might do.
As for Chase… She didn’t want to leave him for other reasons.
“What would it entail?” she asked.
“We would escort you to a safehouse we select, and agents would be placed with you around the clock for your protection.”
“Could I bring my mom and Chase?”
“I’m sorry, no. Just you.”
She chewed the inside of her lip, debating it. “And if I choose not to do protective custody?”
“Then you’ll have police protection until we can get a team put together, and provide perimeter security. But given your status and the seriousness of the threat facing you, I would strongly urge you to consider the first option.”
His tone sent a shiver of foreboding through her. Maybe she should consider his offer. “I’ll think about it and let you know by noon.”
****
Chase ran a critical eye over Becca after the FBI agents left. She was pale, with shadows beneath her eyes, and little wonder. She and her team had been up most of the night scrambling to try to get ahead of or at least counteract the furor the leaked pictures had caused.
But the pictures were everywhere already, and the stories circulating about her were ugly and vicious. It was heartbreaking to watch Becca go through it, and to watch Sofia’s reaction when Becca had told her.
Chase wanted Rick to be thrown into a dark cell and left to rot for the rest of his life.
Becca’s lawyer had already issued a strong statement to the media that the images weren’t of her, but rather someone who looked a lot like her. That the hairstyles and photograph quality proved they were taken years and years ago. Meanwhile, her agent and assistant were leaking other photos of her supposedly taken back in LA in the last day or two.
“You need to get some sleep, sweetness,” he murmured, pulling her into his side where they sat on the lounger on the verandah. They’d gone to sleep at about oh-four-hundred, and she’d woken up multiple times after that.
She nodded, her gaze distant as she looked out over the ebb and flow of the waves onto the white sand beach before them. She’d been quiet since the agents left. Too quiet.
He kissed the top of her head, his heart heavy, wishing he could make this all go away somehow. Almost as soon as that bastard had released some explicit pictures to a trash media site, the story had quickly gone viral.
Sofia was currently inside lying down, and Becca was worried sick about her—as well as being rightfully anxious about helping the FBI to locate Rick. Him being involved in sex trafficking had bumped the urgency of capturing him up the priority list.
As of right now, they didn’t have a current location on him, and Becca’s insight was critical to draw him out quickly from whatever rock he was currently hiding beneath. Arresting him quickly might mean saving other young women from winding up sold into slavery.
They had given her a temporary phone after she’d turned over hers so they could go through it and they were looking into financials as well, trying to track Rick’s banking information and location that way. All they knew for certain was that he was currently somewhere in the U.S. And that he was likely the one who broke into Becca’s place in LA.
It made Chase’s blood run cold to think how close the psycho had come to getting his hands on her.
“I’m going to do it,” Becca said at last.
Chase looked at her sharply. “Do what?”
“Do what they want, and help them find Rick.”
Chase tensed, staring at her. He hated the thought of her being put under any more stress. “Are you sure?”
She finally met his gaze. A measure of relief slid through him that the lost, vacant look was gone from her eyes. “I want justice for what he’s done to us. I’m going to help them take him down.”
He drew her to him and hugged her hard, pride in her battling with concern. He understood her need to take action. “Okay.” He’d deal with it and support her any way he could.
“I need to do it. Not just for me and my mom. But for the other girls I might help save. I want him locked up for the rest of his life.”
Chase secretly hoped Rick would choose to go down in a hail of bullets instead of ending up in a cushy jail cell.
She pulled back a little to look up at him, and cupped the side of his face in one hand. The morning sun caught her eyes, turning them to liquid honey with dark amber flecks. “I wish things could have been different for us,” she whispered, blinking fast.
Something about her tone made his insides tighten. She sounded sad. The words holding a ring of finality. As if she had already decided their relationship was coming to an end. As if she had already made up her mind to pull away.
No way. “It doesn’t matter. None of this changes anything between us.”
She dropped her hand and looked away, the sadness rolling off her slicing at his insides. “I wish you could have met me after this was all done. That we could have had a real chance together.”
“Hey.” He didn’t like what he was hearing. Or the direction her thoughts seemed to be going.
He caught her chin and turned her face to look at him, wanting to put a stop to that bullshit right here and now. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t care what anyone thinks or says about us, in Hollywood or anywhere else.”
She hitched in a breath and pulled free, shaking her head. “The fallout. My team is doing what they can to mitigate the damage, but we don’t know how bad it’s going to get. Being with me could taint you. I could be like poison. Not just to you and your career. To your family too.” She shook her head and pressed her lips together, as if she was on the verge of tears.
He pushed a hand into her hair, locking his fingers around the back of her head, determined to get through to her. “No, you won’t. And even if you did, I don’t give a shit,” he finished angrily. “You’re going to come off as a fucking hero for facing this and bringing it to light. Wait and see.”
She pulled free, stood and took out her phone. “I need to call the Feds and tell them,” she murmured, heading back inside.
Chase couldn’t move. He was reeling, fighting the instinct to follow her. To rush inside and grab her, force her to listen. To make her believe him.
She thought he would drop her now because of the scandal some evil psycho had used to destroy her life? Because it might affect his career? Fuck that. It made him realize just how little she knew him if she believed that.
Thinking of the resignation on her face, a hole opened up in his gut. It was like she’d already decided things were over. Like she might be planning on walking away to protect him or something.
Bullshit. He didn’t need protection. And he sure as hell wasn’t letting her walk away from what they had, overprotective tendencies or not.
Pulse racing, he got up and strode into the house, pausing when he found Becca in the kitchen, her back to him as she talked on the phone.
She ended the call a few minutes later, pushed out a breath and turned to face him. Her expression was closed, the distant look in her eyes making his chest constrict. “They want me to contact Rick and tell him I changed my mind. Let him think that I’m caving about the money in response to the pictures.”
“Do they have an idea where he is yet?” She looked determined but sad. So fucking sad it broke his heart.
“No. They’re hoping to get a location on him if he responds to my message.”
More unease slid through him. Chase wanted to take her and hide someplace no one could find her, and let the Feds handle this on their own. Protect her himself.
Except she was the best hope of flushing Rick out quickly, and possibly saving more women from the same kind of hell Sofia had endured. More than that, Becca would resent him for depriving her of the chance to personally take down the man responsible for all the suffering she and her mother had withstood over the years.
She began typing something on her phone. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Telling Rick.” She paused, her thumbs hovering over the keypad on her phone, then continued, moving fast. As if she couldn’t get the words down fast enough.
She finished, reached out to set her phone down on the counter, but it buzzed.
Chase closed the distance between them as she read the response, then began typing again. “What did he say?”
“He wants the money.” She kept typing, sent the text and then fired off another one to her FBI contact. Once that was done, she laid the phone on the counter, her shoulders sagging. “They’re organizing a team for me right now.”
Chase couldn’t take it a moment longer. Couldn’t stand that she was already pulling away from him.
He was in front of her in a single stride, taking her face in his hands. Forcing her gaze to his while he stared down at her, his heart racing so fast he felt light-headed. “I’m not letting you go, Bec. So whatever you’re thinking, whatever you plan to do to protect me, you can quit that shit right now.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, and it felt like someone had just knifed him in the chest. “I need to call them back before I lose my nerve,” she said in a shaky voice. She was struggling to stay composed, carrying way too much weight on her slender shoulders.
Not wanting to add to it by fighting with her now, he nodded once and stroked his thumb across her cheek, needing to soothe her. Reassure her that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that everything would be okay. “I’ll protect you.”
She shook her head and pulled away, retreating a few steps. “No. They’re moving me to a safehouse tonight. Alone.”
He went rigid, denial ripping through him. “Like hell,” he said, taking a step toward her. Desperate to erase the distance she was putting between them.
“Don’t,” she croaked out, the pain in her voice and her face freezing him in place.
Chase stared at her, and before he could say another word, she spun around and hurried down the hall to the room they’d shared, phone to her ear.
“Becca,” he began, hurrying after her.
But she stepped into the room, shut the door, and the sound of the lock clicking into place cut him deep.
He stood in front of the door, braced his palms on the jambs, and leaned his forehead down to rest on the wood. What the fuck was happening? What was he supposed to do now? He was bleeding inside, every frantic beat of his heart pumping out more of it.
He turned at the quiet shuffle of footsteps behind him down the hall. Sofia stood there, dressed in a robe, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She clutched the edges of the robe together at her neck. “How is she?”
Somehow, he dragged in a breath. “She’s going into protective custody alone until they find him.”
Sofia flinched but recovered quickly. “I figured.” She glanced at the closed door. “Is she okay?”
“No. But she won’t let me in.” God dammit, she wouldn’t let him in. Had shut him out, just when they needed each other most.
“What about you? Are you okay?”
No. Not even fucking close.
Something like grief flickered across Sofia’s face, her eyes filled with pity. “Come outside and give her some space for a bit.”
Giving her space was the last fucking thing he wanted, but short of busting the door down, there was nothing he could do to make her see reason right now.
Sofia held out a hand. “Come on.”
He went to her, walked back outside and dropped onto the chair next to the railing. Normally the sound of the ocean soothed him, but right now he felt like screaming.
Sofia sat across from him, hands clasped primly in her lap. The sleeves of her robe lifted slightly revealing the needle track scars on the insides of her wrists and forearms.
This entire situation made Chase ill. He was sick at the thought of this woman enduring what she had at men’s hands. Sick at the thought of what Becca’s life had been like as a kid, until Sofia had found the courage to take her daughter and run.
“She’s afraid,” Sofia began. “Of trusting and having her heart broken because of it. That’s on me,” she added with a sad smile. “I didn’t protect her the way I should have. Wasn’t the kind of mother I should have been.”
“She loves you,” he said, his voice rough. Sofia had suffered too. She’d done the best she could for Becca.
“I know.” She paused, studying him. “Does she know how you really feel about her?”
She should know. He’d shown her in every way he knew how, especially last night, when he’d felt closer to her than he ever had to any other human being on earth.
Sofia nodded, her eyes impossibly sad. “Tell her. Before it’s too late.”
It wasn’t that simple.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, the truth hitting him like a hammer blow. He loved her. Fucking loved her, but if he told her now, she wouldn’t believe him.
She would dismiss his declaration as a desperate attempt to keep her from walking away.
****
“You sure you got her?” Rick demanded into the phone, jumping out of his car to hurry across the parking lot.
“Yeah. Wasn’t hard,” the man said in a bored tone.
“Where? Where is she?” Please let it be somewhere close by.
“Tell you as soon as you pay up.” He disconnected.
Rick tamped down the sudden spike of anger and rushed through the rain toward the warehouse ahead of him. Becca had agreed to meet him once he leaked some of the photos, rightly fearing that he’d keep leaking more, plus the videos.
But he had to be really damn careful from now on. Leaking those photos had been a big risk, and taking money for it was a crime in itself.
Becca’s abrupt change of heart made him twice as suspicious. If she’d involved the cops and was trying to trap him, she was about to be disappointed.
The lot was dark, only a single, dull light shining in a window of the second floor. He reached the front door and rapped the end of his fist on the steel, the sound echoing in the recesses of the building.
The door slid open a few inches to reveal a man Rick didn’t know. A pair of black eyes swept over him, then the door opened wider. “Step in and don’t move,” the man warned.
Rick stepped in, spread his arms out and stood with a clenched jaw while the guy frisked him, checking the envelope in his hand.
The man stepped back. “He’s down there,” he said, jerking his chin toward a darkened hallway to the left.
Rick started toward it, senses on alert. He had no weapon, but there was no reason for Anton to kill him now.
Two big men rose from their chairs outside the room at the end, eyeing him threateningly as one of them twisted the doorknob. Rick swept past them and tried to ignore the chill that shot up his spine when the door thudded closed behind him. Locking him in with the man who held his life on a string.
“Rick.” Anton stopped typing on his computer and leaned back, folding his thick arms across his chest to regard him. “You got the money?”
Rick stepped forward and dropped the envelope on the desk. It had drained his account, but in order to find Becca, he’d had no choice.
Anton picked it up and thumbed through it, counting the bills in quick, practiced motions. Setting the money down, he met Rick’s gaze. “What about the rest? Deadline’s almost here. And you know how I hate to have to chase people for what they owe me.”
His belly tightened, fear spreading like oily fingers. “You’ll get it as soon as I get it from her. Now, where is she?”
A slight smirk pulled at Anton’s mouth, but he took out a stack of sticky notes and wrote down an address. “You’re in luck. My guy got the boyfriend’s license plate. He tracked them to Myrtle Beach, but the address the car is registered to is only a couple hours from here, and they appear to be headed back this way.” He peeled off the piece of paper and held it out. “My source tells me the guy she was with is a stuntman. Served with the Marines.”
Rick didn’t care who he was, because the guy couldn’t handle himself against a bullet he never saw coming. “Anything else?” He took the note. The address near Kill Devil Hills was less than two hours away from his current location.
“Nope.”
Rick turned for the door.
“Rick.”
He stopped. Clenched his jaw and looked back.
“Us being friends, and you bringing me consistent product means shit when it comes to business. So do us both a favor and make sure you don’t miss the deadline.”
Rick hid his reaction, knocked on the door and waited for it to open, trying to control the way his pulse raced. Anton was great to party with, and Rick had made lots of money by feeding him shipments over the years. But he was also one of the nastiest motherfuckers in the business, with a reputation for torturing the people who crossed him—including his own brother-in-law.
So no. Rick wasn’t planning on missing the deadline.
And to make sure he got what he needed to pay up, he was going after Becca tonight.