Devoted to Wicked
Page 10
“Damn. I’ve got less than ten minutes until class starts. I need to go.”
“I’ll walk you there and meet you when it’s finished.”
She stood and kissed him slowly. “I’ll thank you properly later.”
“I’ll definitely look forward to that.”
As their embrace ended, he saw Miguel in his peripheral vision. The asshole hadn’t missed their exchange. And since he was wearing his starched uniform, he must be on duty. Perfect.
After a glare Miguel’s way, Cage escorted Karis to the yoga studio, then dashed through the lobby and exited the hotel, catching a taxi. He had just under an hour to dig up some answers.
Since Trees had hacked the resort’s entire file on Miguel Nabaté, including his home address, Cage intended to make full use of the information. No, he wasn’t playing by the rules…but neither was Miguel.
Hoping the guy lived alone, he exited the taxi in front of the old, blue-stucco apartment building. “Wait here.”
When the driver nodded, Cage sought out apartment 201. It took less than two minutes to find the door, pick the lock, and begin sifting through the cluttered space. Cage thanked his police training. He’d searched hundreds of locations and had a nose for contraband. He’d find whatever Miguel had stashed here. Maybe he should feel bad about the illegal search and seizure. But he didn’t—in the least.
What a fucking slob. Cage grimaced at the nasty pad just before he struck gold. Inside the drawer of a dresser, he found a half dozen passports, all reported stolen—including Karis’s.
“Gotcha, you motherfucker.”
Shoving them all in his pocket, Cage rearranged the apartment exactly as he’d found it, then locked the door behind him. A glance at his phone told him he had thirty minutes before Karis’s yoga class ended. She would be safe with the others until then.
Jumping back into the taxi, Cage urged the driver to floor it to the hotel. Everything was going according to plan…
Until he returned to the resort’s yoga studio and found Karis gone. With the class in session, he couldn’t ask anyone questions.
Cursing, his heart pounding, Cage dashed to their room to see if she’d returned there. Empty. Nor could he find her in the gym, hanging around the lobby, or by the pool…
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. He repeated the litany over and over. It didn’t help.
When he poked his head into the restaurant where Miguel worked, he couldn’t find the creeper there, either. That made Cage’s gut tighten with worry even more. When he stopped a pair of waitresses to ask around about Miguel, they shrugged, swearing they hadn’t seen him in a while.
Son of a bitch. Raking a hand through his hair, Cage forced himself to think. Where would Miguel have taken her? He’d have many options, and the resort was too big to search quickly without help.
Hotel security. Cage sprinted to the guard station and found a strapping guy in a pseudo-police uniform, baton at his side, shiny shoes gracing his feet. His name tag proclaimed him Mateo. Yeah, this guy was mostly for show, but he had a gleam in his eyes like he was itching for real action.
Cage rolled the dice and hoped for the best. “One of your waiters, Miguel Nabaté, has a habit of stealing women’s passports so he can strand them at the resort and seduce them. The guy took my girlfriend’s passport a few days ago.” He tossed the collection of official documents he’d collected at Miguel’s apartment on the counter. “And now she’s missing. I need help finding her ASAP. He’s potentially dangerous.”
The guard flipped quickly through all the passports and swore. Face tightening, he barked a few words of Spanish into the walkie-talkie sitting near his elbow. After a few static-filled replies, Mateo regarded Cage with fury.
“Mr. Nabaté has been warned repeatedly that his nephew is a liability. Everyone on property is looking for Miguel now. A scan of the employee parking lot indicates his car is still here. No one has seen him leave the property. Where did you last see your girlfriend?”
When Cage explained, Mateo called to speak with the yoga instructor. The exchange was brief, and when it ended, the guard nodded as he hung up. “Your girlfriend stayed for roughly half the class, then excused herself because she received an urgent note. The instructor did not know what it said. I will access the camera feed in the common areas to see if I can ascertain what happened next.”
“Great. Can I help?” Cage flashed his Dallas PD badge.
Mateo was taken aback, but shrugged. “Of course.”
After a quick troll through the security footage, they finally spotted Karis leaving the yoga studio. She paced down the hall, then passed through the lobby. She didn’t glance twice at the elevators, but dashed through the double door outside, toward the ocean, looking frantic. She paused on the back patio and looked around, glancing at the note in her hand.
Miguel wandered into the shot a moment later, said something in her ear, and patted her on the back. Seconds after, she went limp in his arms. Then the dirtbag dragged her behind a bush and down a little-traveled path, out of the shot of the camera. The time and date stamp said that had happened twenty minutes ago.
Cage’s heart stopped. He’d gone out of his way to reconnect with her after their New Year’s fling. They’d cleared the air and gotten truly close. It couldn’t be too late. “What’s down that path?”
The guard shrugged. “A liquor storage shed for the bar.”
“Take me there.” It wasn’t a request.
Mateo didn’t hesitate. He bellowed into the walkie-talkie, then strapped it to his belt before leading the charge out the back of the resort.
The crashing waves of the ocean and the sound of his pounding heart were all Cage could hear—until they were mere feet from the shed. Then Karis’s scream of terror split the air.
Breaking out in a cold sweat, Cage lunged for the door and tried to rip it off its hinges. Of course, the bastard had locked it.
“Get me in there,” he growled at Mateo.
But the tall guard was already shoving the key into the lock and wrenching the door open. Cage shouldered the guy out of the way and found Karis trapped in the corner, holding the strap of her torn bikini with one hand and threatening Miguel with a hefty bottle of booze in the other.
Cage saw red. Karis was his. No other man would ever touch her, especially against her will.
“I’ll walk you there and meet you when it’s finished.”
She stood and kissed him slowly. “I’ll thank you properly later.”
“I’ll definitely look forward to that.”
As their embrace ended, he saw Miguel in his peripheral vision. The asshole hadn’t missed their exchange. And since he was wearing his starched uniform, he must be on duty. Perfect.
After a glare Miguel’s way, Cage escorted Karis to the yoga studio, then dashed through the lobby and exited the hotel, catching a taxi. He had just under an hour to dig up some answers.
Since Trees had hacked the resort’s entire file on Miguel Nabaté, including his home address, Cage intended to make full use of the information. No, he wasn’t playing by the rules…but neither was Miguel.
Hoping the guy lived alone, he exited the taxi in front of the old, blue-stucco apartment building. “Wait here.”
When the driver nodded, Cage sought out apartment 201. It took less than two minutes to find the door, pick the lock, and begin sifting through the cluttered space. Cage thanked his police training. He’d searched hundreds of locations and had a nose for contraband. He’d find whatever Miguel had stashed here. Maybe he should feel bad about the illegal search and seizure. But he didn’t—in the least.
What a fucking slob. Cage grimaced at the nasty pad just before he struck gold. Inside the drawer of a dresser, he found a half dozen passports, all reported stolen—including Karis’s.
“Gotcha, you motherfucker.”
Shoving them all in his pocket, Cage rearranged the apartment exactly as he’d found it, then locked the door behind him. A glance at his phone told him he had thirty minutes before Karis’s yoga class ended. She would be safe with the others until then.
Jumping back into the taxi, Cage urged the driver to floor it to the hotel. Everything was going according to plan…
Until he returned to the resort’s yoga studio and found Karis gone. With the class in session, he couldn’t ask anyone questions.
Cursing, his heart pounding, Cage dashed to their room to see if she’d returned there. Empty. Nor could he find her in the gym, hanging around the lobby, or by the pool…
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. He repeated the litany over and over. It didn’t help.
When he poked his head into the restaurant where Miguel worked, he couldn’t find the creeper there, either. That made Cage’s gut tighten with worry even more. When he stopped a pair of waitresses to ask around about Miguel, they shrugged, swearing they hadn’t seen him in a while.
Son of a bitch. Raking a hand through his hair, Cage forced himself to think. Where would Miguel have taken her? He’d have many options, and the resort was too big to search quickly without help.
Hotel security. Cage sprinted to the guard station and found a strapping guy in a pseudo-police uniform, baton at his side, shiny shoes gracing his feet. His name tag proclaimed him Mateo. Yeah, this guy was mostly for show, but he had a gleam in his eyes like he was itching for real action.
Cage rolled the dice and hoped for the best. “One of your waiters, Miguel Nabaté, has a habit of stealing women’s passports so he can strand them at the resort and seduce them. The guy took my girlfriend’s passport a few days ago.” He tossed the collection of official documents he’d collected at Miguel’s apartment on the counter. “And now she’s missing. I need help finding her ASAP. He’s potentially dangerous.”
The guard flipped quickly through all the passports and swore. Face tightening, he barked a few words of Spanish into the walkie-talkie sitting near his elbow. After a few static-filled replies, Mateo regarded Cage with fury.
“Mr. Nabaté has been warned repeatedly that his nephew is a liability. Everyone on property is looking for Miguel now. A scan of the employee parking lot indicates his car is still here. No one has seen him leave the property. Where did you last see your girlfriend?”
When Cage explained, Mateo called to speak with the yoga instructor. The exchange was brief, and when it ended, the guard nodded as he hung up. “Your girlfriend stayed for roughly half the class, then excused herself because she received an urgent note. The instructor did not know what it said. I will access the camera feed in the common areas to see if I can ascertain what happened next.”
“Great. Can I help?” Cage flashed his Dallas PD badge.
Mateo was taken aback, but shrugged. “Of course.”
After a quick troll through the security footage, they finally spotted Karis leaving the yoga studio. She paced down the hall, then passed through the lobby. She didn’t glance twice at the elevators, but dashed through the double door outside, toward the ocean, looking frantic. She paused on the back patio and looked around, glancing at the note in her hand.
Miguel wandered into the shot a moment later, said something in her ear, and patted her on the back. Seconds after, she went limp in his arms. Then the dirtbag dragged her behind a bush and down a little-traveled path, out of the shot of the camera. The time and date stamp said that had happened twenty minutes ago.
Cage’s heart stopped. He’d gone out of his way to reconnect with her after their New Year’s fling. They’d cleared the air and gotten truly close. It couldn’t be too late. “What’s down that path?”
The guard shrugged. “A liquor storage shed for the bar.”
“Take me there.” It wasn’t a request.
Mateo didn’t hesitate. He bellowed into the walkie-talkie, then strapped it to his belt before leading the charge out the back of the resort.
The crashing waves of the ocean and the sound of his pounding heart were all Cage could hear—until they were mere feet from the shed. Then Karis’s scream of terror split the air.
Breaking out in a cold sweat, Cage lunged for the door and tried to rip it off its hinges. Of course, the bastard had locked it.
“Get me in there,” he growled at Mateo.
But the tall guard was already shoving the key into the lock and wrenching the door open. Cage shouldered the guy out of the way and found Karis trapped in the corner, holding the strap of her torn bikini with one hand and threatening Miguel with a hefty bottle of booze in the other.
Cage saw red. Karis was his. No other man would ever touch her, especially against her will.
