Shadows Redeemed (Garrison Security Innovations #4)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TRYING TO STEADY HIS racing heart, Parker stood in the middle of the warehouse surrounded by the idiots who kidnapped him, betraying everything for which they claimed to have stood. He shoved his hands into his pockets to hide their trembling, thankful Dominick gave him some clothes—baggy as they were—before the others arrived, before Sullivan killed the man. Knowing the detectives, they would have left him naked just for giggles.

His mind raced, replaying the brief glimpse of Jacob’s face outside the warehouse window. His brother had always been the reckless one, willing to jump into the fire if it meant pulling Parker out. But how Jacob had even found him there, amidst the chaos and darkness, was a mystery Parker didn’t have time to unravel. There were bigger problems at hand, and the gnawing sense of dread in his gut told him something was about to go very wrong. Besides, if Jacob could find him in the bowels of New Orleans, it shouldn’t surprise Parker he could find him… wherever the hell he was now.

Parker had been there for what seemed like hours—long enough to realize that whoever had stolen Broussard’s drugs was probably standing right there in that dilapidated building. The warehouse was dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls as the few weak bulbs overhead flickered in their sockets. In the center of the room, Luc Broussard paced with the confidence of a man who owned the place, as well as the men with him, and for all intents and purposes, he did. He didn’t dress like it, of course, his ragged jeans and shirt a sharp contrast to the two dirty, but prim and properly dressed, detectives who stood off to the side, their badges glinting under the weak light, their faces twisted with barely concealed greed. He wondered how long they had been dirty, and if they were the ones who set his brother up the last time?

Parker’s mind raced as he assessed the situation. Nealey and Sullivan stared at him from off to the side, smirks twisting their lips, while Bryce leaned against a support beam, his eyes on Parker with a glint of something between amusement and disdain.

Parker’s hands itched to fight, but he knew better than to make a move now. They hadn’t tied him up again, probably because they didn’t see him as a threat with so many of them around, but that could change in an instant. He scanned the room, looking for any potential exit points, any weaknesses in the guards who flanked Broussard. The drug lord’s men just glared at him, their thick arms over powerful chests, their eyes cold and calculating, guns in their waists, just waiting for orders.

Broussard stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing as he turned his gaze on Parker. “You might as well get comfortable. You’re not going anywhere until I have your thieving brother and my drugs in my clutches.”

Parker felt his stomach lurch, but he kept his expression neutral. “You’re telling me my brother outsmarted everyone in this room?” He chuckled as he gave a slow swing of his head. “I think someone’s screwing with you and it’s not Jacob.”

Broussard sneered, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “All fingers point to your brother.”

Parker’s mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this nightmare. He needed to stall, to give himself more time to figure out how to escape before Broussard made good on his threats. The only problem was, he wasn’t sure how long he had before his brother did something stupid.

“And who are the ones pointing those fingers?” Parker asked, shrugging. “My guess—it’s the two cops who are also feeding you all kinds of other information.” He glanced over at the two detectives. “If they’ll break their oath to protect this city, what makes you think they wouldn’t doublecross you? Or what about Bryce? It’s obvious that old man’s got his feet on both sides of the law. I’m sure he has plenty of ways of getting you to see things his way.”

Broussard’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face as he looked between the men surrounding him. Parker could see the gears turning in the man’s head, and he knew he had to keep pushing, driving a wedge between them.

“Come on, Luc. Think about it.” Parker eased his way around, doing his best to look as if he were merely pacing and not searching for a way out of there. “Someone close to you had to know where the drugs were, someone who could slip in and out without raising suspicion. They’re using Jacob to cover their tracks. Distract you. And it’s working.”

For a moment, Parker thought Broussard might buy his theory. However, just then, Bryce busted out a laugh, sharp and cold, cutting through the tension like a knife.

The older man shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest and moved closer to Parker. “You really think you can bullshit your way out of this? We’re not stupid. You’re just trying to buy time, hoping Sage will come galloping in here to save the day.”

Parker’s jaw clenched, but he refused to rise to the bait. He refused to lose his cool now, not when everything hung by a thread. He just needed to keep them talking, keep them distracted until he could figure out a way to get out of there.

However, before he could say anything, the sound of a gun cocking echoed through the empty warehouse. Everyone froze, their eyes snapping toward the rafters above, hands moving to their own guns.

Parker’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up, his breath catching in his throat. Jacob was there, crouched on one of the metal beams, a gun in his hand and a determined look on his face.

“Well, this looks like a meeting of the backstabbing brainless.” Jacob glanced down at Dominick’s lifeless body, and Parker could see the anguish wash over his face as he had to have realized his friend betrayed him. Then, schooling his expression, Jacob ran his gaze over the gathered group until settling on Luc. “Let my brother go, Luc. He has nothing to do with this.”

Luc shrugged. “But he made good bait. You’re here.”

Jacob nodded. “And I’ll come down once you let him go.”

A surge of panic raged through Parker. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He didn’t need his brother sacrificing himself. Not for something he didn’t do. Parker wanted to shout at his brother, tell him to get the hell out of there, but he knew it would only make things worse. Now he just needed another way out before anyone started shouting.

Broussard’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at Jacob, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “You really think that’s going to happen? You’re an idiot.”

Jacob merely shrugged. “You aren’t the first to think that. However, if you want your drugs back, and I know I didn’t take them—just like I know I didn’t shoot Eric—then you’re going to need my help to find them. But Parker walks. That’s the deal.”

Parker’s heart pounded in his chest. Broussard was right—Jacob was an idiot. They had him outnumbered, outgunned, and standing in the middle of a trap with no way out. However, Parker knew his brother, knew the stubborn streak that ran through them both, and knew there was no talking him down from this.

Broussard laughed, a low, mocking sound that sent a chill down Parker’s spine. “You think you’re in a position to negotiate? Neither of you are walking out of here. Now, where the hell are my drugs?”

“I think your hearing is screwed for such a young guy,” Jacob said, sighing. “As I already said, I don’t have them. I never did. I caught wind of your little side hustle—Daddy’s not going to be happy, by the way—and went to intervene. I told Eric, which is probably what got him dead. He must have told someone else,” he glared at the two detectives, “who then killed him before he could relay the information to the department.” He turned his gaze back to Broussard. “By the time I reached your meeting spot, the drugs were gone, your men dead, Eric’s body discovered, and I’m the one everyone is blaming." He cocked his head slightly as he waved his gun around at the others down on the floor. “Now, as I see it, only a handful of people in here knew I was undercover, so it stands to reason that your drugs are with one of them.”

Parker bounced his gaze among the others, watching their reactions, which were mostly scowls. And then Sullivan yanked his gun out of its holster, gripping the handle with white knuckles. “You know, I’m about fed up with this yakking bullshit. Eric Fontaine was a friend of mine, and you shot him for looking out for you.”

All right, so from bad to worse. Parker’s mind raced, trying to think of something—anything—that could turn the situation in their favor. Guns were out, so things could get bloody at any moment, and Sullivan didn’t look like it would take much to get him to fire his gun. Hell, he had already killed Dominic, so there was no telling how trigger happy he remained. Parker didn’t care about Luc’s drugs, or that the man stole from his father, more than likely. His only focus now was getting himself and Jacob the hell out of there. Alive.

He moved closer, putting himself between Jacob and Sullivan as best as he could, which wasn’t easy since Jacob hid in the rafters over their heads. “Look, if he says he doesn’t have them, he doesn’t?—”

Sullivan snatched out, grabbing Parker by the shirt and jerking him toward him, causing Parker to stumble with the suddenness of the movement. The cold metal of the tip of Sullivan’s gun pressed into Parker’s cheek as the man leaned in, fire in his eyes, and spittle flying from his lips when he spoke. “I’m tired of your mouth! I know what he’s doing, and I’m not?—”

A shot rang out, the bullet sparking against the floor at Sullivan’s feet. Everyone screamed and ducked, and more guns were yanked from holsters and waistbands as people spun toward the shot.

Jacob stood behind one of the rafter supports, his gun quite visible and aimed at Sullivan’s head. “If you really believe I killed Eric, then you should be shitting your pants right about now, Sully. I’d advise you to let go of my brother if you want to walk out of here.”

Sullivan jerked Parker in front of him, using him as a shield. “You fire another round and your brother’s the first to get plugged. Now get your ass down here.”

Every shadow seemed to pulse with menace as Sullivan’s garlic breath filled Parker’s nostrils. He stared up at his brother, fear mingling with desperate hope as Sullivan tightened his grip.

“I kind of like where I am, thanks.” Jacob leaned out, his eyes locking with Parker’s, and there was something there, something that tugged at the edge of Parker’s memory. “My brother’s not some weakling, Sully. He’s seen this scenario played out a few times. We’ve even talked about it. About what would happen and the need for sacrifice.”

Parker’s mind raced. There had never been a call for sacrifice, just… Then his eyes went wide as he realized what his brother wanted.

“This ain’t no time for chitchat. You’ve got two seconds to back off, or I’ll spill his guts all over this warehouse.”

Bryce stepped up beside Sullivan, his gun out, but not really aimed at anyone. “And you be a damn fool if you did. Let him go.”

Parker’s breathing quickened as he dredged up the details from every time his brother drilled into him how to get out of such a situation as the one he found himself in. He had always thought Jacob a little paranoid and over-the-top, but now he knew he needed to apologize to his brother. And he would if he didn’t screw this up.

Sullivan shifted, impatient, and the tip of the gun pressed harder into Parker’s cheek. He had to act now, before the detective lost his patience altogether.

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, Parker then gave his brother a subtle nod.

Jacob stood straighter, easing out from behind the support beam he hid behind, just enough to draw everyone’s attention. Parker simply let his body fall, twisting as he went down, just enough to throw Sullivan’s balance. Wrenching his body to the side, he dropped to one knee, Sullivan’s gun hand swinging wide to the other side. The detective snatched at Parker’s shirt but Parker was already rolling, his elbow jabbing backward into Sullivan’s gut.

And then all hell broke loose as the warehouse doors busted open.