Oleander, p.1
Oleander, page 1
Oleander
Roses and Thorns, Book Two
Becca Jameson
Copyright © 2023 by Becca Jameson
Cover Artist: OriginalSyn
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Newsletter
Acknowledgments
About the Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Author’s Note
Also by Becca Jameson
About the Author
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Acknowledgments
I have to thank my amazing assistant, Michelle, and my great friend Kate Oliver for all their help plotting this series. It took hours to figure out the overall arc. Bless them both for listening to me and helping me flush it out.
About the Book
She brought me to my knees the moment I met her. I’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe…
* * *
Kalinda
* * *
I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. A nobody barely surviving on the tips I make dancing for sleazy men. That’s what makes me an easy target. My stalkers know it. When they make me disappear, I know no one will ever look for me. I spend a year in captivity, training to service the Master who will purchase me as his sex slave. But they’ve underestimated me.
* * *
Jagger
* * *
I’ve been on this human-trafficking case for a month. When I get the call that a woman has been located, my heart stops. It stops again when I see her. She brings me to my knees. She’s fierce and determined. She’s also breathtaking and damaged. It’s not rational, but she’s mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her from the man who sold her and the man who bought her.
* * *
They know who I am. They know where we’re hiding. How long can I keep her out of the hands of some very powerful men who aren’t willing to give up?
Chapter One
Jagger’s heart pounded as he jumped out of his car and ran toward the house. It was already surrounded by several cop cars and an ambulance. He’d gotten the call ten minutes ago, and he’d been fucking glad he’d only been ten minutes away from the scene.
Flashing his badge to everyone in his wake, he was given a wide berth. They were expecting him.
The front door was standing open, and he rushed into the house, glancing back and forth before choosing to go right because that’s where all the commotion was.
“Agent Whitley?”
Jagger came to a stop in front of the female officer. “Yes. Where is she?” He wasn’t interested in small talk. He wanted to get to the woman.
The officer stepped aside, giving Jagger a straight view of the corner of the room. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. If what he’d been told was true, this woman was the second one to have been found since the slave auction a month ago. Other than the rescue of Gemma Romano, he’d had zero leads on the other five women.
Was this girl even a woman? She looked so small where she sat curled in a ball in the corner of the room.
“No one has been able to get her to talk or move. She screams when we reach for her,” the officer informed him.
Jagger nodded as he slowly finished his approach. He squatted down when he was about a foot away. Jesus, she looked young. Gemma had told Jagger and his team everything she knew about the other five women. This one definitely fit the description of the woman called Oleander, but Gemma had believed all of them to be at least twenty. This woman looked younger.
She was blond and long curls hung all around her face and down her body. She was naked, covered in blood, and shaking badly. She was also rocking back and forth slightly, whimpering.
Jagger had no idea what she’d been through for the past month, but he did know what she’d been through for the past year. If this was indeed Oleander, she’d been kidnapped and brought to Jovani Russo’s house almost a year ago.
“My name is Jagger. Can you tell me your name, honey?” Jagger asked in the calmest voice he could muster. His heart hurt for this woman. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall, but he forced himself to remain calm.
She didn’t flinch at his question.
Glancing around without moving his head, he determined the details he’d been given were accurate. A large dead body lay two feet from her. It had already been ID’d as Rinaldo Gustaf—the owner of the home. Luckily, it was covered with a sheet, but blood ran across the hardwood floor of this room he thought was a library or an office.
The only lights came from the streetlights and patrol cars through the large windows. Jagger was glad no one had filled the room with bright lights. They would probably send this woman into an even greater panic. He wished someone would turn off the flashing police lights.
“We don’t think the blood is hers,” the officer informed him as she stepped closer.
“Are you injured, honey?” Jagger asked, hoping to reach her by any means possible.
She continued to rock. Someone had draped a sheet over her, but she’d let it fall to the floor around her. She was huddled so tightly he couldn’t make out the rest of her body. Blood was smeared on her face and down her arms. Her hands were covered in it.
Jagger wished to fuck they could remove the fucking body, but he understood the need not to tamper with evidence. The goal here was to remove the woman, not the body.
Seeing no other option, Jagger chose the only method of reaching her that might result in a positive identification. “Oleander?”
She gasped as she glanced up at him before jerking her gaze to the floor. Bingo. Her breathing changed to rapid panting. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry,” she muttered.
“No need to be sorry. I’m here to help you.”
“Gaze to the floor. Gaze to the floor,” she murmured.
Jagger hesitated for a second before realizing what she was talking about. He knew this fucking case inside and out. She was trained not to make eye contact. She’d been apologizing for looking at him.
“I’m here to help you, Oleander,” he repeated. He hated using the fucking name she’d been assigned, but he had no idea what her real name was, and she had at least responded to it.
“Are you going to take me to jail now?” she asked the floor in a voice so soft he barely heard her.
“No, honey. You’re not in trouble.” Fuck, but he hated this.
“Please take me to jail, Sir,” she told the floor. “Please.”
Jagger slowly reached for the sheet and lifted it to cover her, tucking it under her chin and wrapping it around her small body. Why did she want to go to jail?
He feared he knew the answer. She probably believed it would be the safest place on Earth. Bile rose in Jagger’s throat, partly from the strong scent of blood but mostly from the unimaginable anger he was feeling.
The thought that someone had treated this woman so badly made him want to fucking scream and throw things. More than one someone. He had no idea how many people had mistreated her or how badly she was injured emotionally and physically.
What he did know was that she had somehow managed to get a gun and killed this motherfucker lying to one side of her. She had to have some level of strength of mind and understanding to have accomplished that.
He wanted to praise her, but her state of mind was precarious.
Jagger glanced at the officer. “Did she place the 911 call?”
“No. The neighbors heard gunshots.”
Jagger nodded. “Do you have the weapon?”
“Yes. It was next to her on the floor. All six rounds were fired. Two are in the wall behind us. Four hit their mark.”
Jagger swallowed. He didn’t want the officer to continue speaking. It was probably retraumatizing this woman. “Okay.” He inched closer. “I’m here to help you.” Maybe if he said that enough times, she would believe him.
She squeezed into a tighter ball.
How much should he tell her? “I know who you are and what you’ve been through. You’re not at fault. I’m here to get you someplace safe. You’re safe now.”
She tipped her head back again, huge blue eyes wide. “You’re not going to arrest me?”
He shook his head. “No, honey.” He hated calling her Oleander. He knew it wasn’t her name. He wasn’t sure honey was appropriate either, but until he knew her real name, it was at least kinder. “How about we get you out of this room, clean you up a bit, and get you to the hospital.”
“Hospital?” Her eyes widened further. She shook her head. “No. He’ll find me there. Put me in jail.”
Jagger cringed. “Can you
She tucked her chin against her knees again. Her skin looked flawless. She was like a porcelain doll. Jagger couldn’t be sure there were no marks on her from the last month, but he didn’t expect to see any old ones from her time in Jovani Russo’s captivity. That motherfucker was sadistic, but he hadn’t touched the women in any way someone would be able to tell. They’d been sold in perfect condition. Even their virginity had supposedly been intact.
“Oleander,” she muttered.
“What was your name before that?”
She rocked harder but didn’t respond. Either she was afraid to reveal her name, or she didn’t remember.
“Can I help you get out of this room, Oleander?”
“Why isn’t anyone arresting me? I killed that man.” She nodded toward him.
“Because it was in self-defense, honey.” He drew in a slow breath. “Did you come here of your own free will?”
“No, Sir.”
“Were you permitted to leave if you wanted?”
“No, Sir,” she whispered. “I’m a slave.”
Jagger stiffened and drew in another slow breath. At least she seemed to know what was happening, even if her outlook was warped. “Slavery is illegal. You were fighting for your life.”
“You should arrest me,” she insisted.
Jagger glanced at the dead body. The man was big. It was impressive that she’d managed to take him down. “He can’t hurt you anymore, honey.”
She lifted her head and turned to stare at the body before meeting Jagger’s gaze again. “He didn’t hurt me. He’s not the one I’m worried about. Please arrest me.”
Jagger’s breath hitched. “Is there another man?”
She nodded.
Jagger glanced at the officer as she turned and fled the room. He looked back at Oleander. “Where is the other man?”
“I don’t know. He’s coming for me.”
“Do you know who he is?”
She shook her head, her curls flying around her face.
“Can you tell me what he looks like?”
“I’ve never met him.”
Jagger frowned, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Had she been sold to someone else already?
Oleander pointed at the dead body, causing the sheet to fall to the floor again. “I killed that man. You have to arrest me. Please. Before he gets here.”
“When are you expecting him?”
She licked dry lips. “Tonight.” Her body started shaking.
Jagger twisted around to make sure someone else was listening. Two male officers were behind him. They both took a step back, one of them getting on his radio.
“Let’s get you out of here before he arrives, yeah?” Jagger encouraged.
“Will you take me to jail, Sir?”
“You don’t belong in jail, honey. You need a doctor.”
She shook her head violently. “No. I’m not hurt. I’m a criminal.”
This was the hardest situation Jagger had ever been in since he’d started with the FBI over ten years ago. He’d never seen anyone so broken in his life. He had a crazy idea that might appease her. “Do you think there’s a chance the man is watching?”
She nodded.
“How about if I put handcuffs on you to get you out of here? That way if he’s watching, he’ll think you’ve been arrested, and he won’t look at the hospital.”
She bit into her bottom lip, blinking a few times while she processed the plan. “You need to take me in the police car to the police station.”
Jagger rubbed his brow and sighed. Christ, this was insane. “Okay. I’ll go with you. When we get there, we’ll get you cleaned up, and then you can tell me everything that happened.”
She nodded rapidly and held out her hands, heedless of the fact that she was naked. “You have to make it look real, Sir.”
Fuck. This was fucked up. But he understood, and she had far more wits about her than he’d originally expected.
Jagger twisted to look at the officer who remained in the room behind him. He recognized this particular man. He was in his mid-forties. Seasoned. He wouldn’t be as freaked out by this arrangement as a rookie cop. “Higgins?”
The man stepped forward, brows raised.
“Were you listening?”
Higgins nodded as he cringed. “I’ve never done anything like this, but it’s not a bad idea.”
Jagger sighed in relief. “Is one of those patrol cars yours?”
“Yes.”
“Can you get people to back up while we lead her out of here?”
“Yes. Give me two minutes.” He started to walk out of the room.
“Higgins.” Jagger called him back. “I want every uniformed officer in the vicinity fanned out for blocks.” If some motherfucker was watching this house right now, Jagger wanted him arrested.
“I’m on it.”
Oleander was stiff, but she’d stop rocking. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
Jagger reached out a hand. “Can you stand, honey?”
She set her small fingers in his palm and let him help her up.
Jagger snagged the sheet on the way and wrapped it around her, trying hard not to stare at her body. “Can you hold this around you?”
She glanced at it as if just now realizing she was naked. She fisted the material in front of her, but looked toward him again. “I need cuffs. He needs to see the cuffs.” She was shivering now. She might have been cold, but he suspected her nerves were the main culprit.
Jagger glanced around. There were no other clothes in the room. He would bet money she had no clothing in this house, and he certainly wasn’t going to take the time to search.
Jagger tugged off his jacket and held it open for her. “Stick your arm in, honey.”
She flinched. “I’ll get blood all over it.”
He nodded. “Small price to pay for your freedom, don’t you think?” He was impressed she had enough brain cells functioning to even care or notice the blood.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she stuck her arm in the sleeve and let him wrap it around her to get her other arm in.
Jagger zipped up the front all the way to her chin. She was more than a foot shorter than him. She might be five-two if she stood at her full height. The jacket fully covered her. It reached damn near to her knees.
She seemed stronger now. She was snapping out of the stupor she’d been in when he’d arrived. “I killed someone,” she murmured as he pushed the sleeves up so her hands could reach out.
She glanced at the body again and shuddered. She was still stunned by her actions.
Jagger set a finger under her chin and lifted it. “You had no choice.”
She nodded. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know you are. We’re going to get you out of here, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make you not scared.”
She held his gaze, searching it as if trying to decide if she could trust him. Finally, she nodded. “Thank you.”
Chapter Two
Kalinda couldn’t stop trembling. She couldn’t stop glancing at the dead man on the floor. She’d killed him. It was hard to believe she’d actually done it. And now, this man was being irrationally kind to her.
He’d said his name was Jagger. She didn’t think he was a police officer like everyone else standing around the room, but he spoke to them as if he were in charge. He was tall and broad, and she should be scared to death of him, but she wasn’t.
He’d crouched down to her level. He’d spoken to her calmly. He’d brought her out of the near panic she’d been in. The fog was clearing now.
She still wished he would have the police arrest her. It was the only way she could think to remain safe.
