Sweet Arrest by Jordyn Tracey

height, thin with short hair that looked like it hadn't seen a perm in ... never. Her back was to A'isha. Come on, turn around. If it's you, I'm going to remember so I can tell Connor.
    As if she had heard A'isha's silent demand, the woman spun around, but her face dipped into the shadows before A'isha could study her features. One thing was for sure. She had never seen the woman in her life.
    A'isha searched the area for a weapon, but the woman moved off in the opposite direction. She could only assume her kidnapper didn't know about the club. If she had known, she would have checked there by now.
    After alternating between running and hiding, the beat of the club's music filled the air. A'isha picked up the pace. The rickety old front door came into view. A man stumbled out the door, followed by a couple with their tongues down each other's throats. A'isha wobbled on her swollen ankle, her throat dry, attempting to call out. A warbled grunt escaped her lips. No one heard. She pushed on, a wide parking lot, filled to capacity with cars but no people separated her from help.
    A taxi drew up. A'isha took a tumble over a pebble in the road. She caved with no strength left in her body. So close, she lay there unable to force her muscles to lift her, to carry her the rest of the way.
    Please, no. I'm going to die here. And no one will notice until morning when it's too late. Or that woman will get me and drag me back to the warehouse.
    She cried, racking sobs that shook her weakened body, but produced no tears. Her small mewls must sound like a frightened kitten. Who would hear over the man singing something about a cheating spouse anyway?
    Ruckus laughter burst from the club. A few guys, young by the sound of their voices, maybe late teens, early twenties, ribbed each other about the ladies giving none of them any play. They headed in her direction.
    When the toe of one of their shoes impacted with her head, she cried out, and he stopped. “What the—"
    "What's down there, Tavon?” another asked.
    The guy who had kicked her bent down and brushed the hair off her forehead. “A woman. Damn, fellas, we were working that club all night, and here all tied up for us was a sweet thing, right beside our car.
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Chapter Nine
    Her eyelids fluttered. She pursed her lips and frowned, a glimmer of pain and fear coming into the unfocused eyes. “I..."
    "Shh.” Connor stroked her cheek. “No, baby, don't try to talk. Just rest. I'm here. You're safe, and no one is going to hurt you."
    She cried as she had been doing in her sleep when he arrived at the hospital. The doc had given her something to help her rest, but he imagined the horror she suffered came flooding back with consciousness.
    "They said ... They were going to..."
    "Shh. We can talk later.” He tried to soothe her, but she insisted on speaking. He waited, letting her get out what she felt she needed to.
    "Those teenagers. I thought they were going to...” She jerked like she would be sick, but was too weak to. She fell flat against her pillow, her eyes drifting closed and then open again.
    "No, the guys who found you called the police. They cut your rope off, wrapped you in a jacket and tucked you in their car until the police and ambulance arrived. Those guys saved your life."
    Her sweet mouth formed an O. He drew her into his arms. He shouldn't feel this emotional over her, not having known her that long, but the sense of fierce protection still rose inside him. The person who had taken her would pay for hurting her. He'd see to it.
    The door opened, and Carl stepped inside. Connor eased A'isha back against the pillow. “She's just waking up. Can't this wait?"
    "Afraid not.” At least his partner looked sympathetic. The chief didn't care if it looked like someone else was involved in this. He stuck to the fact that Connor had screwed up. He hadn't been reinstated despite new developments. Carl sighed. “I need to question her while this is