Chapter 1 #3
It was a woman. She was young—far too young for my heart to skip a beat or my cock to twitch in my pants at the sight of her.
Maybe it was her petite stature, but I doubted she was older than sixteen.
Maybe seventeen. Though she was as Caucasian as Reaper, her hair was styled in a traditional Japanese updo and she wore a teal kimono with each sleeve rolled up by a tasuki.
Her gaze cast down at her geta clogs, blocking me from seeing the color of her eyes.
There was no doubt in my mind that they were as breathtaking as she was.
“Mr. Dalton-Jones, sir, please, she needs a doctor. I cannot—” She glanced up for just a second, and when she saw it was us standing before her, she screamed.
She ran back inside the room she came from and slammed the door closed.
“Fuck!” Aloiki shouted and bolted after her.
It shouldn’t have taken me an extra second to follow, but it did.
I wasn’t as opposed to wearing slippahs, or shoes, as Aloiki was, but all of a sudden it felt like I was wearing lead ones.
Why couldn’t my legs move properly? It did not surprise me that Aloiki was able to burst right inside without any resistance.
Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV would not want his prisoners to find a way to keep him out, and if the doors locked, it was likely only from the outside.
Anger hit me like a wave when I saw the girl sprawled on the floor in front of Aloiki, like she’d been trying to use her own bodyweight to barricade the door when he’d pushed his way through.
Shuffling quickly to her feet, she rushed to the back corner of the room where another girl—this one much younger at three or four years old—was playing with a doll on the floor. She scooped the girl up, turning her body to create a physical shield between us and the child.
Fuck. My stomach sank, and I quickly checked my gun. I carried a Desert Eagle .44 Magnum. It was an impressive weapon, in both size and weight. But I was a big guy with big hands, and many other handguns did not feel steady in my grip.
Aloiki put his hands up, showing he was unarmed.
He’d never unsheathed his knife from his thigh holster.
Despite modern warfare, Aloiki had a preference for fighting barehanded and barefooted, as many of our ancestors did.
“It’s okay.” He tried to assure the woman.
“We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here for… ”
His voice trailed off as he spotted the other occupant in the room. As he turned his head, so did mine.
I’d seen a lot of shit in my life. I was no pussy that was squeamish at the sight of blood, and yet my stomach turned so viscerally that, for a moment, I thought I was going to lose the meager breakfast I ate on the plane.
Behind the door was a small cot made for a child.
Bandages, cleaning supplies, and gauze lay on the floor beside the bed.
One of the bottles was open as if it had been in use when we’d come down the stairs.
Dried and wet blood was everywhere, staining the pink teddy bears stenciled on the walls and the short, pink dresser at the head of the bed.
Laying there, her back flayed open to the point where bone protruded from her torn flesh, was Nishi.
“A‘e Akua.” I could barely breathe around the prayer. I wasn’t the only one frozen at the sight. Even from my place in the doorway, the scent of copper was heavy in the air. As were other more foul smells that I chose not to identify out of respect for Nishi.
My chest felt heavy as tears stung my eyes.
I was no saint. I’d done a lot of shit in my time, a lot of which I could spend the rest of my life behind bars or placed in front of a firing squad for, so it was probably a good thing Hawai‘i abolished the death penalty in 1957. But this? I didn’t need to be a doctor to know that Nishi was not going to see home again.
A monster lived in these walls, and no amount of torture, no painful end, would ever make up for or set right what he’d done here.
“Tommy!” Aloiki’s dead voice brought me back to the present. I stepped out of the way so the former soldier could come forward. He carried a small amount of medical supplies on him.
“Stop!” the teenager shouted. “Don’t hurt her!”
I caught Aloiki’s eye over his shoulder. The pain I saw there was beyond measure, because he knew what I did. No words needed to be spoken for me to know what he wanted.
I approached the woman, or teenager, slowly with my hands raised.
The room was not large, so it only took a few steps before I was directly in front of her.
I left a small distance between us, not wanting her to feel crowded by my large build.
She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, while I was nearly three times her size.
Staring down at her, I felt something shift inside me.
It was primal, possessive, and passionate. I felt centered, powerful, and yet entirely weak, like those sea-green eyes staring back at me had the ability to control my very being.
She truly was exquisite. Even under the traditional Japanese attire, I could tell she was thin.
Not emaciated, but there certainly was a lack of meat on her bones.
Like she got three square meals a day and nothing more.
Beyond her absolute fear and pain screaming from the depths of those incredible eyes, I saw determination.
And I knew in that moment that there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect the child she carried in her arms. The dusting of freckles across her nose shined with her tears, and it broke something inside me.
I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know whose child she held or the horrors she’d faced in this depraved house. I had no idea where she was from or who was missing her. But in that moment, when our eyes met for the very first time, I knew three things without question or contention.
The first was that I would get this girl—this woman?
—out of here, and I would do everything in my power to ensure she was safe for the rest of her life.
She would never know fear, hunger, or pain again.
The second was that I would hunt down every man, or woman, who had harmed her, and I would end their miserable, pitiful existences in a bloodbath of agony.
The third, and perhaps the most important, was that she was utterly and completely terrified of me.
Realizing that I stood over her by more than a foot, I went down on my knees in front of her.
My hands were still raised to my shoulders, and I tried to hunch my bulking size to appear smaller.
She looked at me up and down, clear uncertainty on her pretty, tear-stained face.
I wanted to reach across the distance and wipe those trails from her cheeks.
Instead, I slowly moved my hand to the inside pocket of my cut and removed a handkerchief. Perhaps it was old fashioned, but I found they had numerous uses over the years beyond just blowing my nose.
“It’s okay,” I vowed to her. She had no idea the true sincerity of my words.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I held out the folded, white cloth in front of me on the flat of my hand.
In many ways, it felt like the surrender flag the color often represented.
“My name is Tangaloa. We’ve come to rescue our sister.
” The use of the word was not a lie. Nishi was no less my sister under the sun than Aloiki or Spirit were my brothers.
“I swear to you, on my life, that I will not harm you.” Nodding to the child she held in her arms, I added, “Either of you.”
Behind me, I heard Aloiki order Reacher to search the other rooms. I hoped the woman—fuck me up the ass without lube.
Teen. She was a fucking teenager, and I was a dirty old man for even laying eyes on her—didn’t hear Aloiki’s order to the twins to go get Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV, and that he didn’t need to be delivered with all his appendages.
She stepped forward, the cedar teeth of her geta touching the carpet only a foot or so from my knee. Carefully, like I was a scorpion and she a frog, she reached for my offering. Something shifted, settling in my soul. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“What’s your name?” I asked, almost begged, as she started to wipe her eyes.
Though she still kept her body turned so she was between me and the child she protected, I noticed that she did not move away from me after taking that step forward.
Yet, instinct told me that she did not feel safe with me.
It felt wrong, but I sat back on my heels anyway to put some extra distance between us.
She hesitated. “Car-Caroline,” she stuttered, almost as if she wasn’t certain.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Caroline.” She had no idea. Fucking hell, I deserved to be dropped into a volcano for feeling anything but platonic protection toward her. She didn’t even look old enough to vote, for fuck’s sake!
I needed to do better, be better. A protector. Nothing more, nothing less.
A little head finally poked up from where she’d been buried in Caroline’s shoulder. A very different, very primal feeling came over me as I met those small, almond eyes. I’d only ever felt something similar once before, in a hospital NICU many years ago.
“Hi,” I smiled at her. Caroline was so short that she barely stood over my head.
I tried to lower my voice, not wanting to scare the little girl with straight black hair and high cheekbones.
“What’s her name?” I asked Caroline. I did not want her to feel like I was overstepping with the child she clearly felt protective of.
“Samantha,” Caroline answered more definitively. Caroline and Samantha, both old fashioned but beautiful names. “She’s my daughter.”
My brain whirled at those three words, instantly doing math that hinted at a horrific reality.
Even if Caroline was older than I assumed, like eighteen or nineteen, she was still far too young to have a four-year-old daughter.
My heart, my very soul, cried for this poor girl, for both of them.
What had they faced and experienced in this hell of a house?
I hated Caroline’s defensive pose, had since I’d seen her first take the position.
Not because she had the nerve to defend herself, but because she felt the need to do so at all.
She should never have to worry about such things, never be afraid, because she should know down to the marrow of her bones that I would be there to protect her.
Motherfucking shitballs. Was I drunk? Cursed? Something was seriously wrong with me. But it did not change the truth of that statement. From this moment forward, I would always be between her and danger. Samantha, too, because they were obviously a package deal.
“Hi, Samantha.” I gave her a little wave. She blinked, like she wasn’t sure what the hand gesture meant, and then she mimicked it. The corner of my lips twitched. She was adorable.
My attention was drawn behind me to Tommy and Aloiki’s conversation.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong, Paniolo. This is old,” Tommy told him softly. “This didn’t just happen. Even if we got here yesterday or even the day before, it couldn’t have changed anything. It’s infected, and badly.”
The pain in Aloiki’s voice rang clear as a bell. “How long?”
“Minutes,” was the solemn answer, and I felt sick to my stomach at the knowledge. “I have enough morphine with me to… If you wanted me to…”
Aloiki, though, shook his head. Wordlessly, he held out his hand to Tommy. The Enforcer quickly reached into his bag, pulling out a syringe and a bottle. He expertly filled it before recapping the needle and handing it over to Aloiki.
“We’ll give you a moment,” Tommy offered, catching my eye across the room. Aloiki’s back was to me, but I saw him nod in response to Tommy’s words.
Lesū Kristo, my heart ached for my friend and brother.
I knew what he was about to do, and I hated it for him.
I didn’t know how conscious Nishi was, how aware of her surroundings and pain, but there was a mercy in ending her suffering even a few minutes earlier.
Even at the expense of Aloiki’s soul. She was Lu’s best friend, and no matter how much of an asshole Aloiki could be, he wasn’t heartless.
This would hurt him because it would hurt Lu.
I turned back to Caroline and Samantha. “We need to go,” I told them softly.
“Where?” she demanded, her eyes flicking to Aloiki’s back. “What is he going to do?”
“We need to give them some privacy,” I said as evenly as I could. The pressure in my chest made it difficult to speak. “He’s going to help her before we can bring her home.”
Maybe it was the tears gathered in my eyes or the pain in my voice. Maybe it was the unspoken plea for her to trust me. But Caroline nodded stiffly. Holding Samantha tightly, she walked around me and towards the door where Tommy waited with his medical bag.
I stood. I did not reach out to my best friend or offer him solace as he stepped forward to kneel by Nishi’s deathbed. He did not need my pity right now. Meeting Tommy’s eyes as I passed, we both ducked our heads and stepped into the hall.
I closed the door behind me.