Page 7 of ELITE Justice
Or was itshowedhim what to do? Gwen wasn’t sure.
“No,” the scar-faced boy said. “She was tied up, but she didn’t fight me. All I have is one uncle here and only two members of the council were there to verify that I am now a man.”
“Was yours an American girl, or from our homeland?” Blue Shirt asked. “I think I’d like to fuck one of them.”
Gwen caught the leer in the boy’s eyes as he stared at the huddle of plaid. Would they dare kidnap one of those girls? Hurt them? A shudder ran through her at the very thought.
“All American girls are whores.” The boy next to the window said it as though it were a fact. All five watched in silence as the girls left the restaurant and walked passed the big windows.
“Mine was from Al Hasakah.”
Gwen typed in the Syrian city halfway between the Turkish and Iraqi northern borders, on the fringe of IS occupation.
He continued, “On the plane here, she sat next to one of my sisters. They let me have her again, several times that day. It was—”
Gwen didn’t get the word. She was too repulsed at the sentences staring back at her. She’d heard about such things in certain spin-off cells, but the firsthand account made the slice of meatloaf she’d had for lunch flip over in her stomach. She took slow, deep breaths as she fought the urge to throw up.
The diner phone rang and one of her college student waitresses grabbed it, greeting the caller in her cheerful voice while slipping the order pad from her apron. Gwen glanced at the clock. It was the time when supper takeout orders started. Their little restaurant prepared dozens of meals for wives who were too tired from working all day to come home and cook, and for single men who loved the taste of a home-style supper.
When she heard her name, Gwen knew it wasn’t someone’s order.
“I’m sorry, Miss Gwen. There’s a problem with a shipment scheduled for tomorrow.”
Resigned, she took the portable phone and stood. She headed to the office as the food service company rattled off items that hadn’t made it onto the truck. She’d only made it a few steps when she turned, closed her laptop, and slipped it under the counter. She’d review her notes later.
CHAPTER4
Fresh airand a meal prepared by someone other than the company cook sounded somewhere between perfect and heaven. Jonathan wasn’t sure where that man learned his culinary skills, but if it didn’t come from a deep fat fryer, it was burned. He’d have to talk with Quin about finding a replacement when they moved into the new offices. Until then, he couldn’t stomach another grease-saturated piece of mystery meat. He needed to get away from the Guardian Security Center and the small hotel room he currently called home.
That was another thing Jonathan looked forward to, his own apartment. He’d certainly never considered himself a prima donna but after working for Guardian, he’d become accustomed to the perks of the job which included a transitional apartment on the upper floors above the operational side of each office. Since the Dallas Centre building came with the corporate purchase of the local established security firm, they were stuck with the small and insufficient structure. Thank Christ Alex had purchased a new place big enough for all of Guardian Security’s normal amenities and room for expansion.
Stepping onto the sidewalk in front of his hotel, the tall buildings cast long shadows, filling the street with the pretense of night. This was Jonathan’s fourth graveyard shift in a row. As the newest of the three assistant managers, he’d been assigned the twelve hours from ten at night to ten in the morning. He’d awakened several hours ago and hit the local gym since this Guardian office didn’t offer one yet. After showering and changing into his uniform, he’d headed out to find food.
A man-sized breakfast is what he needed. Steak and eggs, maybe. He remembered Up In Smoke served the meal all day and turned in that direction.
He couldn’t wait to move into the new building where he’d have his own quiet apartment rather than the outdated hotel with thin walls where he and Quin currently lived. He was sure the room above him had been rented to a knuckle-dragging gorilla who had bounced on a hooker for hours last night. She had to have been a purchased lay because no woman he’d ever fucked sounded so fake.
Thoughts of sex shot to memories of the unsuccessful pub crawl with Quin. They’d started at a strip club where the women were too skinny but all of them had nice racks. Fake, but huge. Next, they moved on to a hopping nightclub. A pretty little brunette had sidled up to him, but she was more interested in the gun Guardian required him to carry at all times—even off-duty since he could be unexpectedly called to an emergency—than she was in him.
Quin had danced with several drop-dead gorgeous women before he found a model-perfect blonde. When they had returned to the bar, Roxie had introduced Jonathan to her friend, Babs. He’d thought of her as Big-Boobed Babs when they first met, but after an hour of strained conversation, he had designated her Brainless Babbling Babs. He’d considered it a bullet dodged when she’d seen several other friends and joined them on the dance floor. He’d taken advantage of the opportunity and quietly slipped out.
Jonathan heard his boss return to the room next door around three in the morning, sure he’d scored given the satisfied look on his face the next day in the office. He hadn’t been envious of Quin, simply resolved. None of the beautiful women he’d seen and talked with sparked a flicker of interest in him.
As Jonathan strode toward the little diner, he realized why he’d slept alone that night. He’d compared every woman to the sassy, take-charge Gwen. Rich brown eyes, a no-nonsense haircut, and very little, if any, makeup was more beautiful to him than any of the scantily dressed women with overly-dramatic eyes he’d seen replicated in every bar he had visited. He quickened his steps, hoping she was there.
Gwen sat at the counter typing on a laptop as he entered. Jonathan let out a long breath, pleased at the sight of ass-hugging jeans and a tight t-shirt. His gaze instantly scanned down her legs. Strong. Toned. They would look perfect bare and wrapped around his waist.
Yeah. This was the image he’d jerked off to the night he’d gone out with Quin as he showered away the stench of beer, clashing perfumes, and raging pheromones.
Without asking, he slid onto the stool beside her. “Please tell me I can get steak and eggs this time of day, Gwen.”
Her initial look of surprise softened into a genuine smile that made the gold strands in her brown eyes sparkle. He wondered if they came to life or disappeared completely when she was aroused.
“You most certainly can.” She cocked her head. “You have an advantage over me. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” As she scraped her gaze over him, the corner of her mouth twitched up before she controlled it. “Calling you New Guardian Guy, or Quin’s friend from work just doesn’t seem right. I like to know who I’m talking to.”
“Jonathan O’Neil.” He held out his hand. “And I am Quin’s friend, but I’m also his employee. I’m the newest assistant manager at this center.”
She took the proffered hand and gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Jonathan O’Neil. How would you like that steak cooked? And the eggs?”
