Page 52 of Benedict’s Rejuvenation (Dark Patriots #5)

We shook hands, nodded, and murmured greetings with the six men. Kensy and Keeley stood there, not saying a word, with their eyes cast down. I caught the pleased smirk Hendrix shot over to Wynne. The others were trying hard not to stare at the women avidly.

“Kensy, say hello to the gentleman,” I instructed her.

She raised her head, gave a slight smile, and said, “Hello, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

Right after her, Beau gave Keeley instructions to do the same.

“It’s our pleasure to meet you. Please, let’s sit and get acquainted like Josh said. What would you like to drink?” Abram asked.

“If you have some of that wine the ladies had last time, a small glass of that would be great for them. As for me, it won’t hurt to have a whiskey, neat. Ben, do you want the same or something different?” Beau asked.

“I’ll take the same, and I concur that the wine is a good choice for Kensy. And I agree, we should get to know each other, Mr. Krakow.”

“Oh, none of that, mister here. We can surely use first names,” he objected.

I dipped my head in agreement. As Wynne and Abram worked on pouring us drinks, and small talk flew around us, I thought about how unlikely it was that, if this were a real modeling opportunity, every man would be from another country.

As they spoke, you caught their accents.

If they were to get the women outside of the States, which they undoubtedly would have ways to do, they’d be almost impossible to find.

We knew this firsthand from the trafficking we’d dealt with in the past.

I wanted to be pleasantly surprised and find out that this was a legitimate thing, and that Wynne was the good guy he projected himself to be, but I knew it wasn’t so.

My radar, which went off whenever I was around someone who was an abuser in some way, was blaring.

It had done it with Wynne, and it was louder with these others in the room.

I thought of it as my warning system, developed soul deep from being a kid with my father and the Church of Converts. To date, it has never steered me wrong.

“So, Josh told us that neither of the ladies has ever modeled, which, seeing both of you, I find incredible. I can think of half a dozen who would vie for both of you, and that’s the ones willing to pay the most to have you,” Bjorn stated.

“And exactly what would they want them for? Are we talking body-part, catalog, commercial, editorial stock, promotional, fashion, freelance, lingerie, or swimwear modeling? There is so much that can qualify as modeling these days,” Beau asked.

“That’s very true. You seem very informed. Are you part of that world? If so, why haven’t you gotten these two into it?” Luan asked.

“When Joshua pitched the idea to us, I did some research. I was surprised by the number of different kinds. We like to be prepared when we walk into something new,” Beau informed him.

“It could be a variety. We’d have to put their picture out to a bunch of different clients of ours and see who bites and what they have to offer,” Roman smoothly answered.

“I’ll be straight with you, these photographs, whether they’re to get your clients interested in Kensy or a future job, will not include any that feature her in lingerie or swimsuits,” I told them gruffly.

“I can assure you, it would be done utterly professionally, Ben,” Hendrix chimed in.

“It might be, but the only man to see my woman like that is me. I don’t mind her working, as long as I have oversight of the jobs she takes on or doesn’t.

Having others admire her face and be jealous that she’s mine, but they don’t see her sexy body, is the only acceptable choice. ” I scowled to underscore my dislike.

I was hoping I’d come off as the hardass they’d want to step carefully around, which would make them turn more toward Beau to temper me.

Or if shit went down like we thought it might, they’d be all worried about me and forget he was there.

They might think Beau was less of a threat, but they’d find they were wrong when it was too late.

“Beau, what are your thoughts on Keeley’s jobs?” Wynne asked.

“I’m not thrilled at the idea of her posing in swimsuits or lingerie either. However, I would be willing to see what the client had in mind before saying no. Ben tends to be more black and white than I am.” Beau played it right by giving me a quelling glance that they could easily see.

“Is there a certain type of modeling you would like them to do, if it’s available for them?” Xandros asked.

I could feel the tension running through Kensy.

Those looking at her would never know it.

I knew the way she and Keeley were being talked about and over had to be pushing them to lose their cool.

And I wouldn’t blame them. I kept praying they’d be able to hold it in until we were ready to make a move.

We took our time answering, but it was mainly to stretch out the time and to hear as Team Watchmen called out that a target had been taken down.

That was three so far. Until we knew that this was a nefarious operation, and on top of it, if we had proof, we’d want to ensure that guards weren’t oblivious to what their employer had been doing, no one would be killed.

They were neutralized with a dose of long-lasting paralytic, which would take a few hours to wear off.

“My preference would be promotional, commercial, the ones that would make the most money,” Beau finally answered.

“Those that pay the most money for the least amount of skin exposure,” I added.

We sat there and listened to them talk, trying to convince us that they could help us make a ton of money if we let them guide us.

The hungry looks they cast at the women, when they thought we weren’t paying attention, told me they were trying to act suave and legitimate, but they were trying to portray themselves as platonic uncles when, in reality, they were hungry sexual pigs.

At the end of half an hour, the Watchmen team had taken out nine. Waiting for the last one was almost unbearable. Ten minutes later, we heard the callout.

“ Team Liberators, this is Watchmen One. Ten over ten asleep ,” Undertaker’s growly voice reported off.

Sticking to the plan, they would make their way to the front and rear doors. They’d wait for us to give the signal word, then storm in. In preparation for that, Kensy leaned into me. I lowered my head.

“I need to use the bathroom, honey,” she pseudo-whispered.

I nodded, then looked at our host. “Joshua, if you’ll excuse us for a minute, Kensy requires the ladies’ room. It’s down the hall, the third door on the left, correct?”

Wynne nodded. “It is. Great memory.”

“Thanks. We’ll be right back.” I rose, then she took my hand and came to her feet.

As I led her from the room, I let my gaze brush Beau’s.

He gave me a chin lift that no one would question if they saw it.

I felt the eyes boring into the back of our heads.

If I looked back, no doubt those bastards would be staring at her the hardest.

As soon as we were out of sight of the salon, we rushed to the back door. We had to be fast. We’d unlock the door there to allow them in. The front door was already unlocked. When I closed it, I made it appear that I locked the door, but I hadn’t. When the door was unlatched, we headed back.

I whispered, “Watchmen One, this is Liberator Two. Rear egress is a go. Give two mikes, then flip the switch.”

“ Roger Liberator Two, two mikes, then we’re green. Watchmen Two out ,” Heath responded.

We reentered the salon. Kensy retook her seat, but I remained standing as if to stretch more.

“I think I’ll grab another drink, if that’s alright with you, Joshua,” Beau said, rising to his feet.

“Please, help yourselves,” Wynne said graciously.

Neither Wynne nor the others paid attention to us. They were too busy ogling Kensy and Keeley. Beau and I were positioned behind two of the men’s chairs when the lights went out. As they did, the women gasped and made frightened sounds.

“Remain calm—this happens sometimes. I have a backup generator. It takes a few moments to kick on,” Wynne assured them.

He had no idea that the team outside had sabotaged the generator before cutting the electricity. When the lights didn’t come back on, they’d get nervous. The room was pretty dark, except for the faintest glow between the slats in the wooden shutters on the windows.

“ Stand by, count of fifteen ,” Heath whispered.

I knew they were in the house. It wasn’t due to them making noise. It was the fifteen-second count he gave.

Suddenly, there was the thunder of feet, followed by loud voices yelling for everyone to freeze and raise their hands.

As if on command, the lights came back on.

The men in the salon sat there. They appeared to be in shock, or at least the faces I saw seemed that way.

Their mouths hung open, and their eyes were round.

“I said, put your hands up where we can see them!” Undertaker thundered.

Keeley and Kensy pretended to cower and whimper.

They put their hands in the air, along with me and Beau.

Until we knew for sure Wynne and these men were dirty, we couldn’t afford to expose ourselves as part of the invasion force.

Until we knew, we’d pretend to be victims like they were.

Wynne and his clients lifted theirs upward.

“What is the meaning of this? Do you know who I am?” Wynne asked. He sounded sorta snobbish.

“Are you the fucking queen of England?” Heath asked.

“Of course not,” Wynne said with a tone of exasperation.

“Then I don’t fucking care who you are. If you were the queen, I might think about listening to you,” my friend replied wittily.

“Enough chit-chat, secure them. We don’t have all night,” Undertaker ordered.