Sweet Captivity

I put the car in park and hurried out of it, grabbing up Dex’s SIG on my way. I’d have to go in through the front. Which was a shitty non-plan, but I couldn’t linger here, either. If someone noticed Dex’s unauthorized sedan blocking the entrance to the garage, I’d be a sitting duck.

I needed to get up to the penthouse, get Andrés and his laptop, and get out.

Mustering up all the new-found confidence as I possessed, I strode through the glass front doors. The atrium was surprisingly bland, like any nondescript office building. But I supposed it wasn’t in Andrés’ best interests to be ostentatious about where he lived.

A man in a security uniform looked up from a row of computer screens as soon as I stepped through the door. He stood quickly, pushing out of his chair where he’d been lounging behind the front desk.

I pointed my weapon at him and shook my head before he could reach for his own gun.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. “I’m taking the elevator up to the penthouse. Do you have access?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head and holding his hands up high to prove he wasn’t a threat.

“Okay, then. I’m going to the third floor. Is there another elevator?”

“Yeah. That way.” He pointed toward a darkened corner, and I saw little glowing circles that indicated call buttons for a set of elevators.

“You’re coming with me,” I told him, gesturing for him to come out from behind the desk. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

He moved where I’d instructed, and I closed the distance between us to take his gun from its holster.

“Let’s go.” I ordered, and he began walking toward the elevators, his hands still held high.

I just needed to get to the third floor and find Lauren. She had access to the penthouse. Well, she did as of yesterday. I hoped Andrés hadn’t had time to revoke her clearance.

I shook my mounting worry from my mind. If she couldn’t take me upstairs, she’d know how to contact Andrés. I’d never seen him with a phone, but he must have one he used when he left his suite. I considered asking the guard if he was able to call Andrés, but I had to guarantee that he’d bring his laptop down with him. His most likely reaction to finding out I’d returned to his building would be to storm downstairs and try to make me leave. He’d be too enraged to think to bring his laptop, even if I asked.

No, I needed to personally get up there and get both my man and the computer. The guard and I were only three yards away from the elevators when something sharp pierced my lower back. Pain lanced through me as electricity jolted my system. I lost control of my limbs, and I dropped to the hard marble floor, my guns slipping from my hands as I went down.

Fuck!

I knew what a Taser felt like. I also knew I wouldn’t be able to move for another minute or so.

The guard I’d taken as my hostage bent down and scooped up my weapons, training one on my heart.

“Wait,” a new, unfamiliar voice said. “We need to call this in and see what the boss wants us to do with her.”

A second man appeared over me, holding the Taser that had taken me down.

Yes, I wanted to say. Call Andrés.

The words were an unintelligible groan.

“Took you long enough to get here,” the guard complained. “She could have fucking shot me.”

“You’re lucky I came back from my break early, then,” the second man said coolly. “Cuff her,” he advised.

The guard nodded and grabbed the handcuffs attached to his belt. He quickly secured my wrists at the small of my back while the second man pulled out his phone and placed a call. He spoke into the receiver in rapid-fire Spanish that I couldn’t follow.

I’d been disarmed and restrained in a matter of seconds.

I really sucked at being a field agent. As soon as Andrés got me out of this mess, I promised myself I’d never fight crime in person again. I could work far more effectively from the comfort of my ergonomic chair behind my computer screen.

“Moreno wants to see her,” the second man said, ending his call. “Get her downstairs.”

Downstairs? Not up?

The two men gripped my upper arms and wrenched me to my feet. I couldn’t support my own weight, so they started dragging me the short distance to the elevators. Once we were inside and the guard had pressed the button for the basement, I started to regain some control over my muscles.