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  LOVE OR JUSTICE

  Rachel Mannino

  LOVE OR JUSTICE

  Copyright © 2015 by Rachel Mannino.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: November 2015

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-346-5

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-346-8

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this novel to my loving husband—

  you inspired me to write.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Laurie

  Laurie glanced at the folded piece of paper in her hand. She made sure the penthouse suite was on the list of rooms ready for cleaning, then swerved her cleaning cart around, and backed up to the door. With practiced fluidity, she swiped her key card and opened the door wide, ready to prop it open, before she sensed the presence of another person. She looked up. What she saw stopped her cold.

  A man with salt and pepper hair stood there. Dressed in a trim, black suit, his long hair dangled to the crisp, white collar of his button-down shirt. His hair thinned on either side of a widow’s peak. Several deep pockmarks dotted each of his tanned and weathered cheeks, accentuating his prominent cheekbones. He looked like any other businessman on the islands, except that extending from his hand was a polished, silver gun, gleaming in the light streaming in from the open doorway.

  The man looked at Laurie with a mixture of shock and a little horror, as he waved his gun at her.

  “Grab her.”

  A scream caught in Laurie’s throat. She didn’t have time to think before a man standing between her and the gunman ran forward and grabbed her arm. He kicked the door shut, wrapping one thick hand around Laurie’s mouth. He twisted her arm and sparks floated across her vision. The man dragged her into the living room. Laurie’s eyes widened. The closer she got to that gleaming gun, the more she struggled.

  The man with the gun stepped forward and pressed the cold metal of the barrel to her forehead.

  Laurie gasped, stiffening. Her heart thundered in her chest. She barely breathed. She thought each breath would be her last, and she wondered if it hurt to die.

  “Do not scream. Do not move or I will kill you.” He pressed the gun more firmly against her skin.

  Laurie saw the coldness in his eyes. They were the color of granite, and just as unyielding. She looked down and away, standing perfectly still.

  “What are you doing here? Who sent you?” His voice was like silk with underlying hints of gravel. Laurie said nothing, too terrified to speak.

  “Answer him,” the man holding her instructed, twisting her arm.

  She cried out in pain.

  “I work for the resort.” Her voice squeaked and popped. “The head housekeeper told me you checked out. They said you left, and I had to clean the room for the next guest. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Laurie’s breath came in gasps now. She felt lightheaded. She continued to look down, but a movement beside her caught her attention. Laurie glanced over to see another woman kneeling on the floor. The woman had long, blonde hair, like Laurie’s, but longer, stretching halfway to her waist. Bruises crisscrossed her delicate features. She had a bloodied lip and a cut along her cheek. Her hair was dirty, tousled. There was a rip in her dress above the shoulder and all along the hem. The woman turned her head, casting Laurie a look of deep fear and pity from her hazel eyes.

  “Obviously I haven’t checked out. Why would they send you up here?” He leaned forward until he was nose to nose with her, his granite eyes flashing. “I think you’re lying.”

  He pressed the gun into Laurie’s skull.

  “No, please.” Laurie licked her dry lips and suppressed her urge to call for help. “They make mistakes sometimes. They have two new people at the front desk. They must have made a mistake and checked out the wrong room.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Please, I’m very sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Laurie directed her words of apology at the woman she had locked eyes with.

  “Help us,” the woman mouthed to Laurie.

  Laurie blinked, not understanding. Then she noticed a thin arm circling the young woman’s waist, and two small hands clasped together. The child moved his head into view, resting it against the front of the woman’s waist to catch a glimpse of the new arrival. He was young, Laurie realized. Painfully young.

  “I doubt you’re as sorry as you should be.” The man drew back, the unyielding presence of the gun receding. “Who knows you’re here?”

  Laurie bit her lip, staring at the little boy in horror. The boy had bruises on his arm and his face. He stared up at Laurie with a vacant expression. Laurie felt like he was staring straight through her. His short blond hair was also unkempt, and he was so thin his tiny wrist bones looked like they would crack if Laurie so much as reached over to take his hand.

  “Who knows you’re here?” The gun was back at her temple.

  The man pulled the gun away and smacked Laurie hard across her cheek. Laurie cried out as pain exploded in her head. The man behind her grabbed her hair, jerking her face up to look at the man with the gun.

  “I radioed that I was on my way up. So, um, my boss, the whole housekeeping staff, and security.” Laurie shivered as she lied, her heart racing. Her boss would know, perhaps some of the other housekeepers, but she hadn’t radioed anyone. Security wouldn’t have any idea where she was.

  There was a pause as the man before her thought that over. Laurie could feel his eyes pouring over her face, looking for any signs of a lie.

  “Should we take her with us, too?” asked the man holding her.

  “We’ve got enough baggage, I think.” The man waved his gun in the direction of the woman and child. Laurie trembled with the unspoken threat.

  Laurie’s radio broke the tension as it crackled and beeped.

  “Laurie? Have you started the penthouse room yet?” The radio chirped.

  Laurie had never been so grateful to hear her boss’ voice in her whole life, but she was unsure of what to do about it.

  “The front desk made a mistake. They haven’t checked out yet.” The radio crackled and bleeped.

  Laurie didn’t move. She didn’t dare breathe.

  “I’m not sure what to do with you, Ms. Shelton.” The man reached over and toyed with her nametag. Laurie trembled. Then he took a step back. “You
see, I can’t take you with me because I have far too many people with me already. I can’t let you go because then you’ll tell people what you’ve seen.”

  “No, I don’t have to tell anyone.” She shook her head as much as the brute holding her would allow.

  “I don’t believe you.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

  The gunman leaned against the fireplace mantel, his head resting against his free hand. He was so relaxed, so composed. Laurie had the distinct impression he was a cat toying with a ball of string.

  “I swear. I swear I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just tell them I stopped to help a guest and I never even got up here before they radioed. I swear.” Laurie held her breath.

  “Laurie? Laurie, are you okay?” came an urgent plea from her radio.

  “It’s my boss. If I don’t answer, she’ll know something’s wrong.” Laurie locked eyes with the man. “She’ll send up security.”

  There was a pause as the man weighed his options.

  “Laurie? Are you okay? Do you need any help?” the radio asked.

  “Ms. Shelton, I’m going to let you return to your work.” The gunman pushed away from the mantel. Laurie’s eyes welled with tears of relief. “But if you tell anyone you saw me, anyone at all, I will have you killed.”

  “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” Laurie looked at the floor in front of him.

  “I won’t just have you killed.” The man swung the gun around to rest in front of the other blonde woman. “If you tell anyone who and what you saw, the son will watch his mother die before I turn the gun on him.”

  The woman beside her didn’t scream, or flinch. Laurie saw her mouth tremble as she stared down the barrel of the gun, but that was the only outward show of fear she gave.

  “You don’t have to do that. I won’t say anything, I promise.” A tear streaked down Laurie’s cheek.

  “Good. Now get out. Remember, don’t say a single thing to anyone, or the woman dies.” The man turned his back on her, and walked over to the window.

  The beefy man holding Laurie released her.

  “Get out.” The gunman threw a scowl over his shoulder at her.

  Laurie ran to the door. She flung it open and fled the room. To her horror, her legs failed to carry her further. Trembling, she sagged against the wall as she tried to calm her racing heart. She tried to crawl toward the nearest staircase, but her legs refused to move as they wobbled under another spasm. She nearly died; he almost killed her. A wave of dizziness hit her and she curled into a ball on the floor.

  In her flight from the room, Laurie failed to notice the door hadn’t quite closed all the way. She jumped when she heard the voices emanating from the penthouse suite.

  “Should I follow her boss? Kill her outside?” one of the henchmen asked.

  “Don’t be stupid, you dog. Do you want their security guard to shoot you where you stand? Neither of you God forsaken morons brought a silencer. We shoot her in the building or outside of it, and resort security will lock the whole hotel down before we can leave. We wouldn’t want that now would we?” the gunman said. “No, we’ll let Ms. Shelton distract the cops while we leave. I’ll have her killed later tonight.”

  Laurie’s eyes grew wide and round. With fresh urgency, she ran down all ten flights, tears streaming down her face. She pushed open the ground floor door and ran out into the bright sunshine.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Laurie sighed as she put away her uniform. She rubbed at a stain on the collar and sighed again. Hopefully, her manager wouldn’t notice. On second thought, perhaps it didn’t matter anymore.

  She turned from the closet to stare at her bed. Her duffle bag lay open on top of the covers. Most of her clothes and toiletries were in the bag already. She couldn’t decide which books to bring. How was she supposed to fit her entire life into one tiny little suitcase?

  Not that she had many possessions to begin with. She looked around the tiny closet of a room she’d called home for the past ten years. When she was hired, the resort manager pitied her. They offered her a small room on the lowest level of the resort. Its windows were level with the parking lot. She could hear the HVAC thrumming in the next room. It wasn’t fit for guests, but with nowhere else to go, Laurie thought it was the perfect place for her.

  This wasn’t how she wanted to leave it—forced to flee because of some heinous criminal. She swallowed the bile in her throat, pushing the thoughts away. She reminded herself that in a few months she would have moved out of the resort anyway, and onto something better. She was just doing it a bit earlier than she planned.

  She’d done the right thing. She’d called the police the second she ran back in the hotel after that animal threatened her. The police swarmed the building, but the gunman, his goons, the woman, and the child were gone. The police took her to the station to get her statement, though they seemed to doubt her credibility.

  The cop she talked to finally pulled over a sketch artist. Once completed, the sketch changed everything. The cop dropped the hot coffee in his hand, spun on his heel, and ran to his boss’ office. Soon, the district attorney arrived, which shocked the hell out of Laurie.

  The DA pulled her into a dimly lit conference room. He told her he needed to place her in protective custody as soon as possible—tonight in fact. She hadn’t been given a choice. The DA didn’t tell her who the gunman was in the penthouse suite, except to say that his name was Kaimi. The police department had not yet tied him to the kidnapping she apparently witnessed, and they were now very interested in what she had to say.

  Then the DA ran from the room, his cell phone buzzing. She didn’t know who this Kaimi was or what he had done, but if her testimony ensured the man paid for his abuse of the woman and child, then she was willing to go with the U.S. Marshal who showed up at her door. It drove her crazy that the woman and child were out there somewhere being threatened, beaten. Or worse. Laurie winced and sighed.

  Laurie glanced at her alarm clock. It was almost midnight. It looked like the U.S. Marshal wasn’t going to show-up tonight. So much for white knights in shining armor.

  She dropped her open duffle bag on the floor, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Then she laid back, her legs still hanging half off, almost touching the floor. She laid her arm over her eyes. She maneuvered her body around her bed. Little by little, she moved her upper body, her torso, her left leg, and her right leg until her head lay on her pillow. She tossed her wavy blonde hair over the pillow, so it splayed out. Then she closed her eyes, drifting into an exhausted sleep.

  ***

  Laurie was tied. Bound. Gagged. A gun pressed into her temple. She flinched and tried to move away, but it followed her.

  “You are nothing to me. Nothing,” the male voice said. “If you try to run, I’ll just put a bullet in your brain. That’s it. So don’t ever try.”

  The pistol withdrew for a moment and then came crashing down onto the backside of her shoulder. She cried out, but it sounded garbled. The pistol came after her again across her back. She let out a muffled whimper. The sound of the pistol hitting her bones pounded in her head. There was another whack and another, until Laurie doubled over, writhing in pain. Then she felt herself falling, the sounds of the pistol rapping against her body kept tempo as she fell down, down to the earth.

  Laurie shot up in bed. She gasped for air, shuddering. Then the pounding in her dream started again. This time, it emanated from her door. Laurie looked over at the glowing clock. It was 1 am.

  “Laurie Shelton! Laurie Shelton, this is the United States Marshals Service. Open up,” insisted the door.

  Laurie’s brows arched. The pounding at the door resumed. She got up, pulling on her tattered bathrobe, cursing the bastard that waved his gun in her face. She hadn’t had nightmares in years.

  The pounding persisted.

  “Okay, I’m awake! I’m awake!” Laurie looked through the peephole.

  There was a man standing there, a head taller than her. Her eyes slid
over his wavy dark hair, down to his firm angular jaw line and high cheekbones. He had a heavy build, with muscles curving out from under his black t-shirt. His skin was like smooth caramel, warmed in the Hawaiian sun. He was wearing a heavy black vest, with the U.S. Marshals Service logo emblazoned in embroidery over his left shoulder. His badge hung from his neck on a chain. She could only see him from the waste up, but Laurie sucked in her breath.

  “Ms. Shelton?” Concern flickered in his brown eyes before he knocked again. Laurie shook herself out of her daze, and flung open the door.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to come so late. I was asleep.” Laurie realized how stupid that sounded and blushed. Of course she was asleep at this time of night.

  The Marshal looked her over for a minute, thoughtfully. His eyes took in her robe, her disheveled hair, all the way down to her bare feet.

  Laurie crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks flamed under his scrutiny, and his eyes snapped back to her face.

  “I’m sorry to arrive so late, ma’am. I’m Dante Stark from the U.S. Marshals Service.” Dante extended his hand to her.

  Laurie shook it, giving him a weak smile.

  She could tell he wasn’t from the islands. He sounded like the tourists from the eastern part of the continent, like New York or Philadelphia.

  “You can call me Laurie. Please come in. I’ll try to gather all my things.” She opened the door wider and stepped back into her room.

  Dante moved into the room, filling the tiny, cramped space with his lean, long figure. He surveyed the place in a glance. There was a desk, chair, bookcase, and a bed. That was it. His eyes landed on the closed bathroom door.

  “Do you mind if I make sure no one else is here?” He nodded at the bathroom door.

  “Well, no one else should be here.”

  “It’s protocol. I need to make sure no one else is here.”