Chapter 20 Fucking Drew Parker #2
“Jenna, Jenna, Jenna,” Drew drawled as he approached, a smug smirk on his face. “You’ve been a bad girl.”
Her stomach rolled and bile bubbled up her throat at his choice in words. “I haven’t done a damn thing.” She wanted to add an insult or three, but something told her not to.
He clicked his tongue at her and stopped just inside her personal space. The confidence of a man who held victory in his hands shone in his eyes. “You went where you shouldn’t have.”
Jenna frowned and took a step backward. “I did not. Don’t go throwing around accusations just because you don’t like people.”
“Come on,” he said, “I’m an officer of the law. I would never do that.” Everything about his expression assured that he would, and he knew he was spewing shit. He settled his hands on his slanted, straining belt. “Now, I know you broke into your precious bakery, Jenna. Don’t try and deny it.”
Her eyes blew wide. He isn’t. “I did not, which means you obviously know nothing, you filthy, lying, jackass.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let’s not get nasty, Jenna. It’s just a little trespassing. Contaminating a crime scene does complicate it, so I have to take you in, but a few days in lockup and some community service should—”
“You son of a bitch,” Jenna snapped, “I haven’t done anything wrong and you can’t prove otherwise. You have no justification to arrest me.”
Drew reached for his cuffs. “Don’t make me add resisting arrest to your charges, Jenna.”
“Resisting an unlawful arrest is pretty damn natural,” Jenna said, taking another step back. “These charges are as bogus as your harassment threat and you know it.” When Drew only moved closer, Jenna raised her voice. “Stay away from me!”
It was futile. No one was going to intervene when a deputy was arresting someone.
Not even if they knew her, not even if they knew the deputy disliked her, not even if they had heard every word and seen the look on his face.
The only person who would have fought for her was over an hour away, completely unaware of what was happening.
Jenna clamped her mouth shut as the second cuff clicked into place. He hadn’t been gentle about it and her arms already hurt. It didn’t escape her notice he also wasn’t reading her her rights. She wasn’t about to remind him.
Drew shoved her to his SUV, spun her around once the back door was open and blocking them from view, and swept the backside of his hand across her face.
Venom dripped from his glare as he watched her chin crack against the metal doorframe.
“You better watch your mouth, slut. Now get in the fucking car.”
Tears stung her eyes, but Jenna fought them back and ducked awkwardly into the vehicle. A terrifying thought slithered up her spine as he slammed the door closed at her shoulder. Is he really arresting me? Or is this a facade so he can take me somewhere worse?
She cast her eyes around, but she had no clue what she was hoping to see.
She had no experience with the interior of a police vehicle.
The cage-like structure that separated the back from the front looked solid to her.
The bench seat she sat on was worn and there was a suspicious stain that reminded Jenna of a splatter design on a plate.
Which was not a connection she wanted to be making, so she tore her gaze away and looked forward, past the cage.
There was a dashboard-mounted laptop, folded up and pushed out of the way, and Drew’s cell was attached to a holder over the radio display.
What looked uncomfortably like a rifle was leaned against the passenger seat, the barrel up and angled faintly backward—toward her.
Drew climbed into his seat with a grunt and pulled his door shut. He met her eyes in the rearview mirror and Jenna leaned as far back in her seat as her handcuffed hands allowed. He snickered.
He fucking snickered.
“You don’t deserve that badge, you bastard,” Jenna said as the anger welled up in her chest. “You’ve done nothing but bully and abuse people your entire life, and authority’s only made you worse. You won’t get away with this.”
Drew twisted around, not even looking angry at her words.
“Sure that’s what you want to say to me, Jen?
” He lifted his phone from the holder, held it up, and snapped a picture without warning.
“Maybe we’ll use this instead of your mugshot when we send the announcement to the press.
” He tapped a few things, then set the phone back on its holder and faced her again, brow arched. “Any other gems?”
Jenna let her lip curl, because it was better than letting it quiver where he could see, and projected her voice just in case there was an in-vehicle camera actually recording them. “Yeah. I want a lawyer, and my phone call.”
Drew barked out a laugh, tossed the purse he’d ripped from her arm onto his passenger seat, and reached for his seatbelt. “Cute. Real cute.” He rolled the engine over and met her stare again in the mirror. “Bitch thinks she’s getting a lawyer.”
It had been years since Jon had seen any of the men who’d just dumped their luggage into the back of his truck, and it felt good to see familiar faces. It felt better to know there were a few guys he could count on who’d have his back with what was to come.
As soon as they got done hazing the Army guy.
Deciding to take pity on Alex for the time being, Jon interrupted another needling comment by clapping Foxe on the shoulder and saying, “How’s family life?
” Of the three who’d answered his call, Foxe had stayed active in the service the longest. But when his contract had come up at year twelve, he’d chosen to retire and not take the risk of not coming home to his wife and the baby girl who’d been born while he was deployed that year.
Jon remembered feeling a sense of conflict over it at the time.
It was always unfortunate to lose a good man, but he respected that Foxe hadn’t wanted his child to grow up with an absent father. Or worse.
Both of the other two—Billy and Herb—had dropped after eight years, for different reasons.
Foxe broke into a wide, tearful smile. “My little princess started kindergarten this year, man!”
“Well, shit,” Jon said. He couldn’t tell if Foxe was excited or devastated.
Herb groaned. “Don’t get him started, hermano. This guy spent the entire flight passing around pictures and babbling about his princesa.”
Alex chuckled and Jon found himself biting back a smile.
Foxe folded his arms across his chest. “I was not babbling.”
Billy burst into laughter and leaned onto Herb’s shoulder. “Dude, your mouth was running more than my mother-in-law’s. I know things about your kid I’m not sure I know about mine.”
“You have a kid now?” Foxe asked.
“See?” Billy straightened and pointed at him. “You ran the entire conversation!”
Jon cleared his throat before they could get more off-track. “We can have tea time later, ladies.”
His friends adjusted to face him, but not a one of them lost their grin.
Jon motioned to the truck. “Let’s get going. I don’t care which of you rides up front, but I better not see you measuring dicks for it.” He turned and strode around the front, shaking his head at the predictable banter that trailed behind him.
Foxe climbed into the passenger seat. Alex took the rear passenger side, Billy the driver’s, and Herb squished his skinny ass into the middle.
Jenna had been right; there was no way he could have shoved all four of them back there.
Alex would have had to take a lap, and that would just have been awkward.
“So,” Billy said, “what’s this about missing women?”
“No, no,” Herb cut in, “someone said Mr. Marine had a girlfriend. Tell us about that first.”
Jon groaned as he rolled the engine over and started toward the nearest parking lot exit.
“Yes, I have a girlfriend, and if you behave a little maybe I’ll let you meet her.
” He paused because he didn’t feel like shouting over the noise that followed.
There was a reason he’d never tried his hand at being a Drill Instructor.
“The missing women,” he finally said, “are likely being trafficked by the Veracruz Cartel. I’ve had a few run-ins with them since I got back, and day before last a group of them tried to kill my girl.
They’re also the assholes who put Lance in the hospital. ”
“Fuck,” Foxe muttered. “So, it’s like that.”
Herb said a few choice words in Spanish that more or less echoed the sentiment.
“That explains why Blackburn’s not here, then,” Billy said. “Damn shame.”
Jon flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “He’s expecting to be released today, so we might get some help from him depending on how this plays out. But we shouldn’t assume.” And Billy was right. That was a damn shame.
They made it about a mile down the road before Jon’s phone went off with a message.
His phone was attached to the charger in the center console and upside down from his angle, so all Jon was confident in when he glanced down was that the message was not from Jenna or Lance.
But something niggled at him, so he said, “Mind checking that for me, Foxe?”
“Sure.” Foxe lifted the device. “You got it face-locked, or—”
“One-one-zero-eight,” Jon said.
Foxe typed in the code and a noise came from the backseat.
Alex propped his elbow on the window ledge. “Swear I saw a number like that on a piece of paper recently.”
Jon tossed him a glare in the rearview mirror.
“Army knows your secret code?” Billy asked.
Knowing it was a mistake, Jon grunted, “It’s Jenna’s birthday.” He’d changed his usual code when he’d acquired a new phone, and since he’d already decided to make the trip home, he’d been feeling nostalgic. He should have known it was fucking sign.
The Force Recon buddies in his back seat wasted no time giving him shit and shoving at his seat like he wasn’t driving on a mountain road. But Foxe didn’t join in.
Jon cut his eyes sideways in time to see Foxe sweep an arm out to shut the other two up. “What is it?”
“You might want to pull over, man.”
Jon stretched out his hand. “Just give it to me.” He’d done more dangerous things than texting and driving, as stupid as it was.
“Jon, I’m serious,” Foxe argue. “There are other cars on this damn road. Pull over.”
Jon ground his teeth and slowed down, aiming for the nearest stable patch of shoulder. He threw the truck into park for good measure and held his hand out again. “Satisfied? Hand it over.”
Foxe set the phone in his hand.
Jon lowered his eyes to the screen. There were two messages, both from an unknown number. But he knew far more than he wanted—and nowhere near enough—the moment he laid eyes on the picture that had been sent to him.
It was Jenna, in the backseat of some unfamiliar vehicle, with what looked to be a black bar obscuring part of the frame.
As though it overlapped her. Or as if she were behind it.
The camera was zoomed in enough that he could see her face fairly well.
He could see the fire of outrage in her eyes …
and the dried blood on the corner of her lips.
What looked like the beginnings of a bruise darkened one cheek and a smaller one darkened the opposite jaw, beneath the blood.
He could also see the way her shoulders were wrenched back, as if her arms were being held behind her.
His blood boiled and he felt his arm shake with the spiking of his temper. He knew exactly who’d sent the fucking photo, exactly who’s vehicle that was, and exactly who had put their hands on her. Fucking Drew Parker.
He dropped his glare to the text that had come with the picture.
I have something you want, Water Boy. And I feel like getting dirty. Do you remember which cave is my favorite?
Fucking Drew Parker. He was a dead man.
Billy leaned forward and pressed his fingers into Jon’s shoulder. “What’s up? Change of plans, Jonny?”
Jon released a hard breath. “If anyone in here has a moral objection to killing a deputy, and possibly a sheriff, you have thirty seconds to get the hell out of my truck.”