Ocean Kills (Ocean Breeze) (15 page)

I nodded once, sucking in a heavy breath. He was my accomplice, keeping my secrets as long as the price was right. And right now, he was my only friend. I wanted to lean against him and sob with fear.

Clark stopped in front of an ornately scrolled door. He knocked, then turned, leaving me to my fate.

Atsu Bazeer appeared in a violet silk robe. His smile fell. “What happened to you?” His chest puffed. “Did a staff member hurt you?” His concern would be rather touching, if only he wasn't worried about other men hurting me because
he
wanted to.

“No, I suffered a nosebleed, that's all. I think my iron levels are low.” I allowed him to usher me into the bedroom; my eyes almost popped out of my head with the kinky fuckery lining the walls.

A gilded cage swung in the corner. A rack of whips, paddles, and cuffs. A four-poster bed with a mirror on the ceiling. Everywhere I looked, there were bottles of lube, sex toys, and condoms. My stomach wanted to claw its way out my throat. This was too much—far more than I bargained for. Perhaps I could kill him now? My fingers itched to get my switchblade. One quick slice and it would be done. Once slice and this nightmare could be over.

Bazeer watched me carefully, like a lion stalking a zebra. I knew exactly how those poor suckers felt.

“You like?” His hand stroked my shoulder. It cost me everything not to shudder.

I smiled, playing it off. “It's
very
well decorated.” I walked away from his touch, and picked up a massive dildo. “This seems rather excessive.” It reeked of some artificial strawberry smell. Why was it scented, for freakin’ sake?

He laughed. “That isn't the big size.”

I gulped. I couldn't help it. It would split any woman in two.

Bazeer noticed. He spun me around to face him. Pressing himself against me, he grinded his erection into the layers of fabric of my skirt.

I tested my power. Could I escape? No. . . there wasn't enough energy to disperse my body and port. I was stuck in this prison. It was my worst nightmare come true.

His breath was hot and smelled of cigars as he sucked my neck.
Think of something else, Ocean. Anything else.

Sea-green eyes came to mind.
Him? Why him?
I didn't even
know
Callan. Was it a sick fantasy that he was a cop and could save me? Like the ones who saved me when I was eight? Anger bloomed in my chest; my skin flushed with heat.

Bazeer mistook my reaction for lust. I didn't discourage him. I pressed harder against the thing prodding my stomach. A glimmer of a plan came to mind. Would it work?

I looked into his gaze with hooded eyes, purring, “You are very well endowed, Mr. Bazeer. I have a feeling we’ll have some fun.” I allowed him to kiss me, all the while holding my breath and lack of stomach contents.

His paws grabbed my breasts, but they were well encased in their corset. It pinched and hurt, but he couldn't dislodge the boning protecting my torso. What a great choice this dress had been.

My hands curled; I pushed him away from me. “As you noticed, I’m not well, sir. Can we perhaps reconvene tomorrow?” I ran my finger along my bottom lip. “I promise I'll make it worth the wait.”

Bazeer growled and dragged me back to him, thrusting against me. The urge to murder made my mouth water. I wanted this bastard dead.

“You promised to serve me every night. No exceptions,” he snapped.

My mind raced. Stick to the plan. Be brave. Be bold. Be seductive. My stupid plan was to make him want me, then pretend to faint. Would that work? Or would he just rape my unconscious body? Anything was worth a shot right now.

His hand fumbled under my skirts, brushing against my matching grey underwear. This was out of control. A knife to the jugular would be better. Who cared if his henchmen found out before I could free the other women? He was the ringleader. Take him out and the whole operation would fail. Wouldn't it?

Another gross kiss on my shoulder made me shudder. My fingers hitched my skirt, nimbly grabbing my switchblade. It was as if my hands had a mind of their own. I was no longer in control. I wanted his blood to flow.

A knock.

Thank every deity on the planet.

Bazeer stopped his fumbling, yelling, “What?” He licked my neck with a deliberate wet tongue.

I smiled, when all I wanted to do was rip his eyes out.

“A phone call, sir. The police.”

My eyes went wide.

Bazeer snarled. His fingernails dug into my cheeks. “Did you tell anyone?”

I was glad I was a good actress, as my life depended on it. I didn't blink as I replied, “No. I've been locked in your office building all day, and with the girls just now. How would I have told anyone?” I gritted my jaw and rubbed his erection. “It wasn't me. I want to be here. Why would I tell?”

He bought it, and spun on his heel, disappearing out the door. He stalked down the corridor, barking orders to Clark. “Take her to her quarters. Lock her in.”

Clark motioned for me to follow. Silently, we meandered through the richly decorated corridor to another wing of the house. My mind raced. Who called the police? It was too convenient.

He unlocked a door. “You’ll be free from him for the rest of the night. Business must be attended to.”

“Did you call the cops?” I had to know. Were my suspicions correct? Did Callan pull a warrant this soon? How did he wrangle the help of the South African police so quickly? Cross country cooperation was no simple matter.

“No. It was not me. I thought it was you.”

We watched each other—a stand-off. Some unspoken challenge flashed, but I held his stare. I wouldn’t back down. I agreed to buy his silence. It didn’t mean he was a nice person. Clark nodded and closed the door.

I was alone, for now, and free from performing sex tricks for another twenty-four hours.

Chapter Fifteen: Callan

N
o matter how much hacking I did, or how many hours I stared at the phone, nothing yielded answers. Was Ocean safe? Did Mr. Kim's contacts come through?

I slouched over my desk. I had no idea what the time was, but I guessed I'd been here a solid twenty-four hours. I’d pulled big stints like this before, but never been so emotionally entangled. My entire body ached as if I’d run a triathlon. I needed to go home. Rest. Surf. Recharge. But guilt laid heavy weights on my shoulders. I couldn't fathom the thought of sleeping safely when I didn't know if Ocean was okay.

I was past worrying how obsessive and strange my reaction was to her. I was past questioning my need to have her safe. Once she was free from whatever mess she was in,
then
I would step back and figure out what the hell she meant to me.

Wade appeared in my doorway. Nerves danced in his eyes, mouth tense.

“What is it?” I swiped hair back from my forehead, blinking.

“Captain Gray wants to see you. He's pissed.” Wade turned to leave, looking over his shoulder. “What did you do?”

I waited for the pulse of concern, the palpitations of worry that I'd be fired. They never came. It was enough for me to know I did the right thing on whatever rule I broke. I stood and followed Wade. “I can think of a few things.”

“Well, whatever it is, I hope you survive the lashing.”

The captain was well known for the yell-downs that rattled his office walls. I hadn't been on the receiving end yet—which was surprising. I tensed my shoulders and strode into the magistrate's throne room.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” My voice was calm, collected; my body dead straight.

“Yes.” Captain Gray never lifted his eyes from whatever paperwork he worked on. “Sit.”

The calm approach was worse than the livid yelling. I sat warily.

Finally, brown eyes latched onto mine. “I’ve finished my investigation. How
dare
you go behind my back? You have some nerve, Bliss.”

Which incident was he talking about? There were numerous times I went behind his back. In fact, every single case I worked, I used my skills to find certain pieces of evidence.

“Sir?” I kept my face professionally blank.

“Don't you ‘sir’ me!” He reached into his drawer and pulled out a stack of folders. “Each one of these was solved by you and Mark Wade.” He cocked his head. “Care to tell me what I found?”

“No, sir.” I sat frozen in my chair.
Shit.

Gray snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Each file shows tampering with the computer-generated searches, profile documents, even the arrest warrants. What the
hell
were you playing at?” He grabbed another stack of folders, slamming them down. “And these. Cases that weren't even
assigned
to you and Wade. Closed files, unsolved crimes. They all have the same tampering code, the same unique computer glitches. Just who do you think you are?”

It was over. This was it. My career as a foot cop for the Sydney Police was finished.

“I'm sorry, Captain. That code was taught to me by a skillful computer operative. It’s the only way I know how to find the truth. The truth that people try to hide.” No point sugar-coating it. I was done.

“You're a hacker? How the hell did you manage to gain employment in a police force?” Gray's face reddened, cheeks puffed.

“I worked for a certain agency. They taught me ways to find any information. Track anyone who doesn't want to be found.” I took a deep breath, before adding, “That's why I was in Bali, sir. I was assigned to find drug runners who roped in brainless drug mules. The ring leaders spent the money on weapons and killing. For five years I fought against crime with no rules or regulation. Dirt with dirt.” I couldn't help the passion seeping into my voice. Memories of working for another type of law overshadowed the small satisfaction of being a cop. I said truthfully, “I want that freedom again.”

“Why was I not aware of this?” Gray spluttered.

I met his stare. “My skill-set was not mentioned on my recruitment file.” I took a breath. “I know I've over stepped my boundaries, sir.”

Gray snorted again. “Not only have you over stepped boundaries, but now I have to reopen your cases to see if the information we used was legal. Not to mention you've implicated Mark Wade in your shenanigans.” Gray rubbed his forehead. “What do you have to say for yourself, Bliss?”

My shoulders slouched as I thought of the mess I made for Wade, then my fists curled at the thought of the douchebags I’d locked up walking free if Gray reopened the files. Me and my stupid skills. 

Furious at myself, I stood. “Not much, sir. I regret putting you in that position. I will apologize to Officer Wade.” There was nothing else I could do. My career was over.

Captain Gray stood too. His anger left, leaving traces of annoyance and disbelief. “You were one of the good ones, Bliss.” He shook his head, sighing, and added, “You know what I have to do.”

I nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

He held out his hand. “Hand them over.”

I unclipped my gun holster and my badge, placing them in his palm. Would he remember I had an off-duty weapon?

“Go gather your things. You're fired.”

Apparently not. That worked for me.

The walk of shame to my office was made worse by Wade's wide eyes and constant questions. “Why did he fire you? You're the best cop we have!”

I grabbed a box from reception to pack my things into. I smiled at Wade. “That's kind of you, Mark, but I didn't stay within the lines of the law. I'm not cut out for rules and restrictions.”

I didn't want to admit it, but I itched to get on the phone with Mr. Kim. The stress of working in Bali was forgotten. All I remembered was the fierce thrill of the chase. And the wealth of information I was privy to. It could help me track down the Breeze family's killers, understand why Ocean could do what she could. It was exciting to say the least.

Wade shut my office door behind us. “Does this have something to do with Ocean? Are you leaving because of her?”

My eyes shot open. “No. What made you think that?”

He shrugged. “I found the profile you did on her. I just wondered if there was something in there that triggered you.”

My hackles rose. Wade found Ocean's profile? He couldn't have done that by chance. “You snooped through my stuff?” My voice was cold.

He held up his hands. “Hey, don't get snappy. I was only looking out for my partner, who seems to be wrapped up in some other world right now. Don't you want to know I figured out who the comatose girl is? That I have my own set of fancy twinkle fingers?”

A smile tugged my mouth. “Twinkle fingers?”

Wade grinned. “Yep. That's how I think of you—Mr. Fancy Twinkle Fingers.” He waved his hand. “You're distracting me. Her name is Emily Snow.”

I stopped packing, curiosity demanding I listen. An image of Ocean, covered in blood, dressed in that sexy grey number, distracted me. She saved Emily Snow. Could she save herself?

Refocusing, I asked, “And she’s from Australia?”

“Yep. She lives in Melbourne. Her parents are coming to collect her and take her to a drug rehabilitation center closer to home.”

“That's awesome work, Wade. See? You don't need me as your partner. You're on it.” I smiled.