Page 28 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

I try to kick him between his legs, but he twists so I only end up kicking his leg. A gunshot rings out, making me flinch, and the leader uses it as his chance to finally yank his gun from my grasp. He swings it towards me and before I can even take a breath, a loud BANG rings through the air.

My eyes fly shut, and I gasp, my breath catching in my throat as I wait for the pain.

“Fuck, sweetheart? Are you okay?” I open my eyes as Kingsley runs up to me, rifle in hand as his free hand roams over my face and arms, as if looking for injury. I look down and rub my hand over my chest, where I expected to see blood .

Looking behind Kingsley, I see the leader and the third man lying on the ground, blood pooling around them.

“You shot them,” I say in stunned disbelief.

I look over my shoulder at the man I’d taken down. He was either still unconscious… or dead.

A stampede of footsteps comes running towards us and Kingsley pushes me behind him, instantly raising the rifle in defense. Before I can even grasp what’s going on, he lowers the weapon and drops his defensive stance as he lets out a deep breath. “Thank God it’s you guys.”

I peek around him and see my other three guys running towards us.

“What the fuck happened?” Reece yells as they get closer.

“Are you two okay?” Bower asks, running right up to me and hugging me tight. He then pulls back and looks us both over, searching for injuries.

Weston pulls me in for a hug before pulling back, his eyes narrowing in on my forehead. He uses his large hand on the side of my neck to tilt my head to get a better look. “You were hit.”

“You should see the other guy,” I say jokingly, using my thumb to point to the maybe dead guy on the ground.

Weston and Reece move to the body, and I hold my breath as Weston takes his pulse. “He’s alive.” I release my breath, not sure why I’m happy about that.

He looks at the bloody gash on the man’s head and raises an eyebrow at me. “Rock?” A small smirk plays on my lips, and I shrug.

“What happened?” Reece asks, surveying the bodies around us.

“They came out of nowhere, forced us out of the van, and threw me to the ground. We couldn’t understand them…” Kingsley trails off as his eyes flick to mine .

So I continue for him. “They passed around a photo, one of Bower and Kingsley. Then they pointed to me and the warehouse and the man holding me started to drag me towards it.”

I rub my arm, still feeling the bite of his touch.

“Let me see,” Weston says, as he moves up beside me. I remove my hand and look down at my arm and am surprised to see it’s already bruising. Weston makes a noise, not too dissimilar to a growl, and my eyes jump up to his, I watch his jaw work back and forth in obvious anger.

“I’m okay, big guy.”

“You’re not.”

I shrug and try to play it cool. “I’ve lived through worse.

” I don’t think that’s the right thing to say because instead of calming him down, he seems to grow angrier.

I see a storm of emotion roll through his eyes and do the only thing I can think of; grab the front of his shirt, pull his face to mine and kiss him.

At first, he’s rigid and doesn’t kiss me back, but I move my hand around to the back of his neck and lick at the seam of his mouth. That’s when he stops holding back, his arms move around me as he opens up and kisses the living crap out of me.

Someone clears their throat, and we reluctantly pull apart. The anger is gone from his face and all that’s left there now is heat.

Mission accomplished.

“So anyway…” Bower says, giving me a quick wink. “You were saying?”

“Right,” Kingsley says, trying to subtly adjust himself in his pants. Was he turned on watching me kiss Weston? Interesting….

“So, when they tried to drag her away and uh… shoot me… Darla went a little feral. She nailed the guy in the nuts, and he let go, she grabbed a rock, smashed him in the face, then attacked the second guy, who seemed to b e the leader. I went after the third and managed to get his gun and shoot him, then I shot the leader.”

My eyes move from Kingsley, to Bower, to Reece. The way Reece is looking at me sends a chill up my spine. I can’t tell if he’s upset at what happened or what I did, but whatever it is he doesn’t look happy. I move my eyes to Weston and he’s giving me a similar intense stare.

I try not to roll my eyes in frustration. Did they not want me to fight back? Kingsley would be dead if I hadn’t done what I had. But I don’t want to fight right now. I’m tired, hot, and just want to get out of here.

“What happened in the warehouse? What’d you find?” I ask, bringing us back to the reason we’re here. Weston and Reece share a glance that I can’t decipher, but it’s Bower who breaks the silence.

“It was bad. Real bad.” He pushes his hand through his hair, and it snags in his bun, so he pulls out the hair tie and reties it quickly.

“What did you see?” Kingsley asks, still holding the rifle.

“The charity is a front,” Reece says bluntly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there is no charity.” I frown, not understanding. He glances back at the building before looking at us again. “We should probably get out of here in case they come out, but…”

“But what?” I ask, not understanding what he’s talking about.

“But I don’t want to leave all those people there either.”

My breath catches in my throat. I try to ask him to explain, but I can’t seem to get the words out. Luckily, he seems to understand as he continues.

“I don’t know why there aren't any guards outside. Maybe this is them,” he says, pointing to the men on the ground around us.

“But as soon as we stepped inside, we knew it was no charity organization. The place stunk like sewage and it was extremely dark. Inside the door looks like a small waiting room, but with no furniture and two doorways. We chose the first one and instantly saw a long hallway with lines of cages on each side.”

He glances nervously at Bower, his hand scratching at the back of his head as he continues.

“I thought they were dogs,” Bower says, looking down uncomfortably.

My eyes widen in fear as I quickly look between them, waiting for one of them to explain.

“The cages were full of people. Women and men mostly, but some kids, too. They looked like they’d been in there for a while.”

“Ohmygod!” I cover my mouth with my hands in shock. People? In cages?

“They’re dealing in human trafficking,” Kingsley says, putting it all together. Weston and Reece nod, and I try to swallow down the bile rising in my throat.

“What do we do?” I ask in worry. “Didn't anyone see you?” I glance at the building, but it’s still quiet.

They shake their heads, easing a little bit of my worry. “We didn’t stay long, just enough to grab a couple photos and check the locks. We couldn’t open them, but we told them we’d get help,” Reece explains.

“Then we heard the gunshot and ran back here,” Weston adds.

“What do we do? Do we call someone?”

Reece nods. “Yes, I’ll make the call, but I’d feel better if we were all safely in the van and we move to a different spot. Weston, can you tie up that guy?” he motions to the man I knocked unconscious.

I watch from the back seat of the van, where I’m perched in Bower’s lap, his arms wrapped tightly around me, as dozens of people are escorted out of the warehouse.

The entire area is full with ambulances, police cars, fire trucks, and what seems to be an army of people helping.

I wanted to help too, but the guys reassured me that we were best to leave the professionals to deal with it.

Reece had managed to get a hold of the right authorities, and two police cars arrived thirty minutes later.

I was kept in the van with Bower and Kingsley while Weston and Reece spoke to them out of earshot.

They showed them the bodies, and I was terrified Kingsley would be arrested for killing them, so I clung to him, hoping if I held on tight enough, they wouldn’t be able to take him from me.

They let the police go inside on their own, and within twenty seconds, one man came back out and started talking on his phone with urgency. Thirty minutes later, the parking lot was swarming with emergency vehicles.

Eventually, they came over and took our statements.

It was clear these were actually good cops, and they were disgusted by what these men had done.

I saw a couple of men escorted from the building in handcuffs.

It didn't make sense to me that only a handful of men were responsible, but it wasn’t like the police could sit and wait for others to arrive, leaving those poor people in cages .

I tried to count everyone and when I got to thirty-four, it seemed like they were finally done.

The whole thing took hours. None of us spoke about leaving. I think we all needed to see with our own eyes that those people got safely out of there. And seeing them wrapped in blankets and given water as the paramedics looked them over… it helped ease some of our tension.

After all, this was supposed to be my family's charity business. How did it end up like this? And how long had it been going on for?

I gasp, my eyes going wide as all eyes turn to me in concern.

“What’s wrong, Zee?” Bower asks from behind me.

“When…” I try to swallow down the large lump that’s risen in my throat, afraid to even ask the question. “My dad saw this place. Why didn’t he shut it down? Why did he go to Australia?” I look at Reece as I continue, “Has this been going on all this time?”

He presses his lips together in a tight line, a pained expression covering his face. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, knowing he’s already come to that conclusion. “I’m sorry, Darla. I’m so fucking sorry. I wish I had known.”

I open my eyes and reach forward, laying my hand on where his is resting on the console between the two front seats.

“But I imagine your dad was afraid of your grandfather going to jail, so probably went to talk to him about it. He was probably coming back here to shut it down after he spoke to him.”

I nod as I consider his words. He’s right, my dad would never have condoned it, and when he had made us leave Perth, he definitely seemed desperate to get back here quickly. If only our plane hadn’t gone down, he would have shut this down fifteen years ago.

“It’s not his fault, or ours. It’s Frank’s,” Reece says firmly, a glint of determination in his eyes. “I don't know how he’s gotten away with this for so long, but we’ve already put an end to this, and we’ll put an end to him, too. I won’t stop until he’s on every country's most wanted list.”

“Can you do that?” I ask in surprise.

He shrugs. “Won't know until I try.”