Hell Bent (20 page)

“You can either spit out what you have on your mind, or I’m going to call the limo to pick me up.  I shouldn’t have come here, but I thought it would be a nice reunion with my childr—”

“Well, if you had any
children
to reunite with that might wash,” Cade interrupted.  In the back lot security lights he saw Phil’s face go as white as his shirt.  “That’s right, I know and you do too, don’t you?  You’ve known for years, and that’s one of the reasons you treated me like you did.  The other reason is children were just a burden to you and Mother, we cramped your lifestyle right?  So you passed us off to the nannies and couldn’t be bothered.”

“Know
what
?” he asked too quickly, looking off to the right, and Cade didn’t miss the tremor in his hand when he lifted the champagne glass to his tight lips for a long sip.

“We had a paternity test done Phil,” Cade said, and Phil choked, then swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, before looking at him again.  “We
both
know that you’re a degenerate and our mother is a whore.  The question is, do you want everyone else to know that
neither
of us is your offspring?”

His hand shook violently as he raised his glass and swigged the remainder of the champagne in his glass before leaning down to set it on the ground beside the dumpster.

“How in the hell would you know that without me having the test too?  I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Phil made to move around Cade, but he grabbed his arm.

“We had the baby tested too—none of us has the same paternal DNA.  So that means only one of us is your child. Which one of us drew the short straw, Phil?”

Phil looked confused, his face pinched then whitened even more.  “What
baby
are you talking about?” he asked gruffly, looking away.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, old man,” Cade said with a harsh laugh. “
Amelia’s
baby—you know the
girl
you dropped off at the shelter like an unwanted dog when she got pregnant?  The one who is probably no more than sixteen, who worked for you and you abused?”

Phil stiffened and his head whipped back around, before he turned and stomped over to grab the lapels of Cade’s tux. “Is that why you had the test done? How did you know?” he demanded, then his eyes narrowed. “Did that Latina bitch tell you?”

“She didn’t have to—I knew when Ronnie told me about your
sizable
donations to the shelter.  When you write a check, especially
multiple
checks, there has to be something in it for you.  That something was getting rid of your little problem before Mother found out.”

“What do you want?” Phil asked darkly, his hands fisted at his sides.

Yeah, take a swing at me old man and it’s on like Donkey Kong.

“I want a DNA sample and a million dollar trust fund for Domingo, in care of his lovely mother Amelia, or his guardian, until he’s twenty-one of course,” Cade said with a smug grin.

“I’m not giving that bastard a million dollars,” Phil shouted, as he started pacing in front of the dumpster.  “The fucking condom broke—it’s not my fault!  She needs to go back to Guatemala and let her family help her.  I did her a
favor
by dropping her off at that shelter instead of sending her back to the people I bought her from to work at a whorehouse.”

God, this man was a vile motherfucker and Cade was
thankful
they didn’t share one cell of DNA.  But to get what he wanted from him—for Amelia and Domingo—he wouldn’t shoot him between the eyes like his entire body twitched to do.

“You could always keep the money, Phil, if you move them back into the house, and tell Mother,” Cade suggested, knowing that would never happen.  “Or I could tell her for you—
and
all of your
friends
.”

Phil stopped and spun to face him, and the bastard was smiling?

“You don’t have the proof—I’m not giving you a dime you extortionist.  You and Veronica took that test, they couldn’t find my DNA—so what you’re bastards.”  He shrugged and an evil smile stretched his wrinkled face. “But you can’t prove that baby is mine, so this conversation is over.”  He straightened his jacket, took a deep breath and blew it out. “Sue me if you’re froggy enough, get a court order, but I can promise you won’t win.  That kid will be eighteen before this is over and I will suck you dry.”

Phil took one step toward the door, but Cade’s words stopped him.

“I may not need proof to convince Mother and wreck your world.  And as much as your club friends love gossip and know you, I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to convince them either,” Cade replied smoothly and Phil’s face turned bright red.

“Tell your mother all you want, she won’t believe you.  We have an arrangement.  I liked the smell of her father’s money, and she liked the fact I was available to marry her when she got herself knocked up.  It’s worked for us for thirty-five years, and one little bastard brat won’t change that.  She likes her lifestyle.”

Cade let him walk back inside the building, because this wasn’t over.  Not by a long shot, he thought, as he walked to the corner of the dumpster to pick up the champagne glass.

Checkmate you lowlife son-of-a-bitch
.

Yanking open the back door, Cade flagged down a waiter and asked for a sandwich bag so he could cover the glass.  Once the flute was covered, he reached inside his coat to put it in his pocket, but froze when he heard three very distinct and familiar pops over the roar of the crowd and the loud hip-hop music the DJ was now playing. 

Those pops weren’t champagne corks he thought, shoving the glass into his pocket and drawing his pistol.  They were rounds from an assault rifle he realized, as he shoved people aside to get to the corridor where the bathrooms were located.  Across the room he saw Trace Rooks separate himself from two women and take off toward the corridor too, and he ran into Slade and Taylor at the doorway. 

Cade saw the door swing shut at the end of the hallway.  “They went out that door,” he yelled, pointing as he opened the bathroom door.  Slade and Taylor ran that way, and his heart stopped when he looked inside and saw Ronnie lying on the floor, not moving. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She was too stupid to live, Cecelia thought, as she yanked her dress up to her waist to make sure it didn’t trail below the stall.  Leaving her damned cell phone in the evening bag she checked at the front door had been the stupidest thing she’d ever done.  If she had skipped the purse and tucked it into the neckline of her dress, she could have at least texted Cade or Slade for help. But she hadn’t worn a bra either and knew the odds were it would’ve slid right down to her toes when she danced with Cade. 

At least she’d worn the thigh holster, so she had her gun. 

A lot of good it did her though—the two tangos were out there with Ronnie and Allison, who had been chatting in the lounge waiting for
her,
and she was in here with no idea what weapons those men had.  They had to be substantial or she had a feeling that Ronnie would’ve laughed at them and walked out.

“You’re not going to get out of here with us—we have security,” Allison said calmly.

“Oh, we’ll get out,” one of the men replied in a thick Texas drawl.  “As soon as Roger knocks on that door to let us know the coast is clear.  Now, keep your damned mouth shut.”

“It will
never
be clear, because my husband won’t let you get out
alive
,” Veronica said, ignoring his warning. “Your best bet is to just leave and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

“I told you to shut the
fuck
up,” the other bandit growled.  A whimper echoed off the tile walls, so the man must’ve reinforced his words with a weapon.

Cee Cee was curious why Trace, who’d been leaning on the wall outside the bathroom corridor, hadn’t come running when Ronnie screamed.  Yeah, the music was loud and the conversations louder in the ballroom, but Veronica had been pretty damned loud herself until one of the men slapped a hand over her mouth and she bit him. That slap had to have hurt, and she was sure his threat to kill her if she screamed again had kept her from it.

But if they didn’t do something
Roger
would eventually knock on that door and these men would take those two out in that hall and probably drag them out the exit door at the end without anyone knowing.  Well, except her, and she hadn’t even seen the men to give a description. 

The mirror-paneled walls outside the stall would make it impossible to get out without them seeing her too. 
Think, Brat, Think
. 

Closing her eyes, Cecelia channeled Cade and tried to think like he would.  She blew out a breath and opened her eyes because whatever Cade would do he
wouldn’t
be doing it in five inch heels and a skin tight evening dress like she’d have to, unless she wanted to do it naked.

She was never going anywhere without a bra and panties again, she thought, as she lifted one foot and then the other to slip off her shoes before carefully placing them on the toilet tank.  She looked down and the six inch space under the stall next to her and it gave her an idea.  Placing her gun beside her shoes, she grabbed the ends of her dress and pulled the sides together to tie them in a knot at her upper thighs, then grabbed her gun.

If that space ran under every stall, she was small and could just crawl to the end.  Ducking down, she looked toward the end of the row, saw the wall under the sinks and wanted to shout her relief.  Instead, she laid on her belly and squeezed her body under the stall to the next one, but hopped up on the toilet to wait a second before she moved to the next to make sure they hadn’t seen her.  Cecelia repeated that three times, and knew she had three more to go, but then there was a knock on the door.

Without thinking twice, she scrambled under the door of the stall and darted to the sinks where she crouched down.

“Your carriage awaits, ladies,” the man at the door said with a nasty snigger.

She bent her elbows, gripped the pistol tight and pivoted around the wall.  The men stood beside each other, and each held a woman and freaking assault rifles hung at their side.  How in the hell had they gotten in with those?

Head shot, Brat, kill him so he can’t shoot back. 

Cee Cee’s heart pounded in her ears as she eased up to her feet, aimed between the tangos like Cade had shown her at the range, leaned into the position and chose the target that moved toward the door.  She fired one shot, a hole appeared in the man’s temple, and she squealed when he crumbled.  The other guy fumbled to get his weapon up, but Veronica lunged for him so Cecelia couldn’t fire. 

He knocked her to her knees, hit her in the head with the butt of the rifle then aimed it at her head but didn’t fire.  Instead, he moved his aim toward Cee Cee and she dove just as he pulled the trigger.  Three bullets shattered the mirrors as she landed hard on her hip, and she heard clicks, which she knew meant the rifle had jammed.  She tried to scramble to her feet but there was too much glass on the floor. 

Allison screamed, and she heard him slap her.  Grunts and whimpers followed as she fought with him, but suddenly everything went silent.  Cee Cee crawled over the glass to the carpeted lounge and stood to brush off her knees. 

Allison was gone and Veronica lay unconscious near the man Cecelia had shot and he was either dead or close to it.  She ran over to pick up his rifle then knelt beside Ronnie, who had blood matting a section of her red hair.

The bathroom door burst open, and Trace ran inside followed by Cade.  Slade ran past the door toward the exit with Taylor on his heels…in her heels.  The cavalry had arrived just a minute too late, she thought, as Trace shoved her roughly aside to lift Ronnie into his arms.

“Call a fucking ambulance,” he ordered, his voice shaking as much as his big body.  He didn’t wait though, he ran out the door with her and turned toward the ballroom. 

Cade took her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “Are you okay, baby?” he asked, his voice raw. “Do you need to be checked out too? Your knees are bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled into his shirt front.  “Where the hell were you guys?  Didn’t you hear them scream?”

“I was looking for you, but they changed the music to hip-hop, the dance floor is packed, and it’s so loud in there now you can’t hear yourself think,” he growled, giving her a tight squeeze before releasing her. 

She stepped back and her eyes fell on the dead man. 

“I tried to get them both, but Ronnie dove for the gun and I couldn’t get a clear—”

“You did good, Brat—they didn’t get her, or you,” he snarled, then looked her up and down.  “You didn’t get shot, did you?” 

“No, I didn’t get shot.  I dove under the sinks when he started shooting.  Ronnie wasn’t shot either, but the guy who took Allison hit her over the head with the butt of his rifle.”

“Thank God,” he said, glancing at the man on the floor. “He’s in hell where he belongs, so I guess Ronnie is the only one going to the hospital.” 

Cade pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1.  Cecelia collapsed on the sofa and put her head in her hands, and her eyes fell on her knees.  They were bleeding pretty badly, so she pushed back up but Cade shoved her down. 

“I’ll get some wet napkins so you don’t slice up your feet too.”

“You need to go check on Ronnie,” Cee Cee argued. 

Cade ignored her to crunch over the broken mirror shards into the stall area.  A second later he was back and knelt to examine the cuts.  He laid the soggy brown towels over her knees and she hissed as the cuts burned, but the steady pressure he put on them made it go away quickly.

“It doesn’t look like you have glass in there, so hold those on and stay put.”  After patting her thigh, he stood.  “I’m going to get this guy’s phone and ID before the police get here, and find Ronnie before her husband carries her all the way to the hospital in Austin.”

He turned, took a step and his phone rang so he quickly answered it. 

After a brief second, he said, “All we’ve got is the limo we rode here in so I can’t help you chase them.” Cade listened for a second more then held his phone out from his ear.  “Logan stop fucking yelling!  Cecelia is fine and she’s here with me.”

He glanced back at her, and her heart squeezed when he winked. 

“One of the tangos isn’t so lucky though.  She took him out, which kept Ronnie from being abducted too and I’m so damned thankful.” 

Cecelia’s heart melted under the warmth in his praise and the pride in eyes, which told her his words weren’t just words.  The corner of his mouth kicked up and so did hers. 

“Yes, really,
asshole
—your sister is a badass.  Now, you be the same and stay on that van and don’t lose them!”  Cade hung up the phone and blew out a breath.  “Is your brother always so damned reactive?” he asked as he knelt down beside the body to pat his hands over the man’s chest and hips, then stood holding his wallet and cell phone.

“
Reactive
?  Like a nuclear sub?  If that’s what you mean, yeah,” she replied, hissing as she lifted the towels to look at her knees again. “But he’s always been that way when he thinks I’m in trouble.  I guess it’s because he cares, but it does get annoying.  They’ve stopped bleeding now, so if you’ll get my shoes from the last stall, I’ll go with you.”

It was after midnight when the limo dropped Cade, Cee Cee, Slade and Taylor off in front of the hotel.  Taylor and Slade immediately went inside, probably because they had to let the dogs out, which is what they’d been worried about at the hospital.  The only thing Cade had been worried about was Ronnie.  He let the hospital personnel and doctor know that too, until they settled her into a room and gave her something to help her sleep.

Cade was the last one to duck walk out of the back of the long black car and Cecelia waited for him at the curb, but he stopped when his phone rang and she sighed.  He tossed her an apology with his eyes, as he answered it.

“Yeah, Dex—we just got to the hotel, so I’m headed up there now.  I’ll call you back in a few,” he said, then hung up. 

Cade knew Cecelia wanted an update on things, to be included, but he just didn’t have time to stop to talk.  He’d been on the phone all night long, and probably would be until sunrise—with her brother who was frustrated that he had to pull off chasing the van when they fired on him from the back door, with Dexter who was double-timing analyzing the information on the cell phone from the truck to get answers, with Jolly who called
him
to ask when he’d be back and his last call had been with Carlos who was trying to pull any info on the Sovereign Soldiers he could find, to name a
few
. 

He was exhausted, but he had to keep going. 

Maybe some coffee would help, he thought, a pot—no a gallon of it.  Hell, right now he felt like he needed to find some tubing and rig up an IV of the stuff.  But Cade knew he wasn’t the only one who was exhausted.  Everyone was working furiously to find Allison Rooks, and he hoped once he got to his laptop and could plug in the phone he lifted from the tango, Dexter might be able to access the SIMs card remotely to help with that effort.

Trace Rooks, who had a worse night than any of them, with his mother being kidnapped, his pregnant wife almost being abducted with her, then injured, had handled the situation surprisingly well.  He’d managed to hold back the scorching anger everyone at the hospital knew brewed inside of him until Ronnie and the baby were given a clean bill of heath other than a mild concussion and two stitches in her scalp. 

Shortly after that declaration, he’d taken great pleasure in laying down the law to his obstinate wife.  When they released her from the hospital tomorrow morning, he was taking her home and she was
staying
there.  Yeah, Ronnie’s new husband was growing on him, as was his respect for the man.  That was the kind of man his hardheaded, stubborn sister needed in her life.

That had been a close call, too close, because she insisted on playing with fire. 

If not for Cecelia, she could be dead or have been abducted like Allison Rooks.  Cade owed her a lot—his sister’s life.

Now he could help his brother-in-law by finding Allison Rooks before those lunatics hurt her, if they hadn’t already.  His stomach rolled at the thought, but he shoved it to the back of his mind.  That kind of thinking wouldn’t do them any good.

“How’d it go with Phil?” Cecelia asked, sliding her arm around his back.  “Let’s go inside and have a drink.  My nerves are shot and there’s not a chance I’ll sleep tonight without one.”

“Sorry, Brat—I have to get to my laptop,” he replied, walking with her to the front door then holding it open for her.  “Dexter needs me to plug the phone in so he can download the card information remotely.  I won’t be sleeping tonight for a while and neither will he.”  He hugged her to his side, as they walked to the elevator.  “But I did see there were little wine bottles in the mini-fridge in the room.  And a coffee pot on top of it, which I’ll need.”

“Sounds like a plan, and I’ll stay up with you until it kicks in,” she said, squeezing him, plastering herself to his side as they walked inside the elevator. 

Cecelia fit into his side perfectly and Cade realized right then how damned much he’d missed her hugs after she left him…how much he’d missed
her
.  A gnawing ache filled his chest, and he clenched his muscles.