The Wife Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 5)

I waved off the driver of the production van carrying the masks I made the day before. One of the production assistants supervised the loading, and a few members of the SFX team gathered to receive last-minute application instructions from me.

Now that everyone was gone, I walked back into our department. It had been a hectic few weeks, but my exhaustion didn’t stem from my job, but from my personal life. Nervous energy bounced inside me like a closed circuit. I surveyed my surroundings and sighed. I left the facility with Gabby so abruptly the night before, I didn’t get a chance to clean up. I was a stickler about keeping my station clean. After packing up my make-up into my rolling cosmetic case, the next step was to check what silicone adhesives I could repurpose. I made my own special mixture.

If there was one area in my life where I was OCD, it was in my job. I grabbed the hand vac and tidied up further. While the noise of the vacuum drowned out everything else, my thoughts automatically went to our upcoming discussion.

I still loved Levi.

I doubted I could love another man as much as I loved him.

Lost in my thoughts, a movement at the corner of the studio startled me. My heart almost beat out of my chest when I saw an unfamiliar man in a suit standing there. He wasn’t looking at me but at the workstations in the studio.

“Excuse me?” I called. “You can’t be in here.” I was used to studio executives strutting around like they owned the place. At least this one didn’t have an entourage in tow. Yet despite the squarish dark glasses and his slicked back hair like an Elvis pompadour or a bad comb over, there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of my nape stand up.

The man shrugged and started my way. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m calling the guard.” I walked to the nearest wall with an intercom.

“I’m afraid Freddy won’t answer.”

The chill around me dropped further, and dread displaced the air in my lungs. I slowly turned to face my unwanted guest. “What did you do?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine. The man has a wife with a third kid on the way. I have no reason to be heartless.”

He stopped in front of me. My purse with my phone was hooked over the handle of the makeup luggage.

“What do you want?”

“A friend of ours. Do you know where he is, Mrs. James? Can I call you Kelly?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Tom. This man was looking for Tom.

He grinned and reached out to brush the back of his fingers along my cheek, but I recoiled.

“Ah, so beautiful. Our friend Thomas Roth. Who else?”

“Then you should know he’s missing.”

“That’s what the cops know. And they sure as fuck didn’t figure it out yet.”

“What?”

“You see, the man I sent for him didn’t come back.”

A glimmer of hope rose inside me.

“You really shouldn’t play poker,” he said. “Now I know you don’t know anything. I’m worried your boyfriend bested my man. Admittedly, he’s not the brightest bulb, but he’s good muscle.”

I held back a retort that muscle wasn’t everything.

“Where’s your phone?”

Oh, hell no is this man …

It happened so fast. Pain exploded on my cheek, and my whole body twisted around and crashed against the table, bumping my hip so hard, I crumpled to the floor and emitted a distressed cry.

Black glossy shoes appeared in my line of vision, and he yanked me to my feet by my hair. “I’m not asking again. Now, I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to. You want to get back to Ashley and Whitney, right?”

“Don’t you dare mention my children,” I spat.

Using my hair as leverage, he brought me closer. “I know where they are. They’re with your husband. Big man, that Levi James. I’m surprised Roth had the balls to lust over his wife. But you’re separated, aren’t you?”

Who the hell is this man? Violated didn’t even begin to describe how I felt.

He released my hair and shoved me in the direction of my things. He stalked over and grabbed my giant purse and rummaged through its contents, carelessly tossing things on the floor. I gritted my teeth, part in fear, part in outrage. Finding my phone, he woke it up and held it to my face for authentication.

Then he scrolled through my contacts.

“Guess this is him?”

He showed me Tom’s name. Without even waiting for my response, he proceeded to check our message stream. “Guess he never responded to your text or calls.”

He lowered my phone and studied me. “Now what use are you to me?”

“Please let me go,” I whispered. Now more than ever I wanted my girls and Levi.

Why did it have to be a life-or-death situation before what mattered the most became clear?

The man studied me further. “No. I might have more use for you.”

He reached inside his coat and drew a gun, pointing it at me.

Blood left my face and my legs threatened to buckle.

“You have a choice. Either you walk out on your own, or I carry you. And I’m telling you right now, it would piss me off if I have to carry you. And you don’t want me pissed.”

“You don’t need me,” I begged.

Bang!

A pitiful cry escaped my lips. My whole body started shaking and I couldn’t keep the tears at bay. They scalded my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “Please don’t. My girls need me.”

The man advanced on me and pointed the gun at my head. “Then you better do as you’re told.”

Elvis tied my wrists behind my back and dumped me in the trunk of a sedan. He also bound my ankles. I saw his accomplice briefly. A man with strange tats on his neck. I would’ve paid more attention to his facial details if I wasn’t still shaking from when Elvis shot at the wall to my right, missing my ear by millimeters.

All I could see were the faces of Ashley, Whitney, and Levi. What the hell had Tom gotten me into? Then I was immediately ashamed for blaming him. He’d been so supportive when Callum died, more so when Levi had become distant. I hated depending on anyone because I hated that they left, and I would be stuck by myself.

It was one of the reasons I thought I had to let Levi go, but I realized more than ever that my husband never left, not even when he was grieving my brother. People had different ways of handling grief.

The ride was bumpy. I tried to recall everything I had learned in movies and wished I’d paid attention to Levi’s self-defense lessons. But with my hands and feet bound, it was hard to get leverage to kick out the tail lights. And then what?

After what felt like forever, the vehicle crawled to a stop. I heard its door open and slam.

The trunk opened, and Elvis dragged me out. Dusk was descending judging from the dark orange sky. His cohort was nowhere in sight. He let me fall to the ground so he could untie the rope around my ankles. Then he hauled me up again.

“Move.”

He certainly didn’t like carrying stuff.

We were on a property with high elevation. I tried to discern landmarks around me that could clue me in to where we were, but it was too dark, and the property too recessed from the access road to orient myself with which part of LA we were in. Our trip was about twenty minutes so we couldn’t have gone too far from the studio.

We entered the house, a fancy log home by LA standards. He nudged me toward a sunken living room, then took out his phone and made a call. He moved to the window, looking back at me every now and then as he conversed with someone. His other hand held the gun loosely by his side.

I was too disoriented, too pissed, and scared shitless. But I was not stupid enough to know that if I did something remotely irritating to that man, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me and bury me in his backyard.

My imagination was always on overdrive when I was scared. I held on to the thoughts of my family again. Ashley in a purple tutu taking a bow. Whitney in her first softball game. The first time I laid eyes on Levi James.

Images of the cocky SEAL showing up at our house in Brooklyn one summer flashed through my mind.

Levi. He’d be worried.

He would call my phone and … shit, what did Elvis do to my phone?

“Da.” He ended the call and turned to face me.

I did not like the blackness in his gaze.

I did not like the way he stalked toward me.

Instinctively, I backed away.

“Don’t piss me off,” he said. “I could just shoot you.”

“What do you—” I didn’t finish responding. His right arm crossed his body and cut an arc. The force slamming against my face sent me spinning and I landed on the couch behind me.

Too stunned, I tried to speak, but my throbbing jaw refused to obey.

He jumped on top of me.

Air left my lungs when he pushed his knee against my ribcage. He set aside his gun and started to choke me.

My feet kicked out.

Oxygen. I needed air.

I was going to die.

I was going to die.

Black dots danced behind my lids. The end. Just nothingness. Pressure everywhere. My head was about to explode.

Then … freedom. I gasped, swallowing a box of razor blades. My eyes struggled to find focus before falling on my captor’s form.

Elvis came into focus. He was typing on his phone.

“Let’s see what Roth will do now.”

“I thought …” I wheezed. “I thought you couldn’t reach him.”

“The image was sent to a chat room. He’ll see it.”

“Are you going to let me go now?”

“Hmm … you have seen my face, and I know your husband has connections in high places.”

“Then I’m more of a liability. Let me go. I won’t say anything.” I’m going to make sure you burn in hell, asshole.

He sank to his haunches. Dead eyes reminding me of Hannibal Lecter when he was about to make a kill. I was doing everything in my power to withhold the outrage inside me that wanted to break this asshole’s nose. Only self-preservation to live and see my family again held back the retort on my tongue.

God, what did Levi do in situations like this?

When Elvis reached out, I turned my face away, but all he did was tuck a hank of hair behind my ear.

“I won’t hit you again,” he said quietly. “I got what I needed.”

“Please let me go,” I pleaded again.

For the first time, I saw a flash of regret cross his face. “That depends on what Roth does. I have my doubts of your importance to him. He didn’t put up much of a fight when your husband reclaimed you.” He smiled faintly. “Yes, I was watching.” He looked at his phone. “Now we wait.”