Her Sexy Rescuer

By Megan Slayer

Vonn Jordan wants to wander. Why stay in one place when there’s a whole world to explore? A night clubbing lands him right in the middle of a deal to conduct human trafficking. His family doesn’t buy and sell humans, even beautiful ones. He’ll bust this ring wide open.

Then he sees her. Ripley. She’s sweet, soulful and alone. Can the man hellbent on drifting accept his wandering days are over? Or will she break his heart?


Publisher’s Warning: References to organized crime, abduction and sex trafficking that may be triggers for some readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Sep 12, 2019

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com. When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Book preview

heart?

Chapter One

Vonn stared out at the throng of dancers and sighed. The ice in his drink had melted. Christ, he was bored. A man only turned twenty-one once, and he refused to spend this token year in college. He also refused to spend it alone. Let his brother Jax do the college thing. He had other ideas. He’d party now and work later.

A blonde passed by and winked. She might be good for the evening, but she wasn’t his type.

Vonn Jordan, just the asshole I wanted to see. Larry Slater strode up to him. I hear your family has a new venture.

We have lots of ventures, Vonn said. Jesus. It wasn’t his job to keep up on what the family did and when. Why?

I never would’ve thought your family would’ve gotten in on human trafficking. Larry crooked his brow. Is that right?

What? Yes, the Jordans played fast and loose with the law. Yes, they tended to shoot and pay their way out of trouble. But human trafficking? He knew Dash better than that. Ever since Dash rescued his now-wife, Christy, from being pimped at the club, Dash made it his point to rescue others. He wouldn’t get into human trafficking.

Well?

Where did you get this info? He doubted it was from his brother.

Channels, Larry snapped.

And what details are these channels giving you? Vonn asked.

Jesus. Stuff. Girls, Larry said. You’re buying and selling them to the highest bidder. Bondage shit, sexy toys, that sort of bullshit. Whatever the buyer wants to do with them.

I see. What a nice answer. What a jackass. He had to talk to Dash. If his brother was involved in this -- which he doubted -- then they needed to stop. If they weren’t involved, then Dash needed to know the family name was being used. He’d also want to step in and stop the operation. He’d shut them the fuck down. No one deserved to be sold for anything.

Well? I want in, Larry said. Girls can bring top dollar.

Asshat. I need to confer with the family. We’re rather picky about who we involve.

Tell your brother I would love to be involved. I’m in need of new, lucrative ventures. Larry grinned, and his eyes narrowed. Besides, you owe me.

I do? He didn’t remember owing Larry anything.

Yeah, you do. I got your ass into this club, Larry said. Without me, you’d be nothing on the social scene.

He disagreed, but whatever. I have to speak with my brother. I don’t run the family enterprises. He never did and never wanted to. Dash would end up in a premature grave like their father if he wasn’t careful. He trusted his brother wasn’t doing something so shitty as human trafficking. It wasn’t possible.

I expect to hear something. Larry pointed at him. I know where you live.

So does everyone else. The Jordan family compound was practically a landmark in Shaker. Uh-huh.

I’m watching.

I’m sure. He nodded, then abandoned his drink on a nearby table. One of his two bodyguards followed him to the private overlook within the club. He could see everything and not be seen. He whipped out his phone. He needed to speak to Dash.

Yes? Dash asked when he answered the call. You’ve been MIA. Care to tell me where you are?

In deep shit, Vonn said. I know where I am. I’m in Florida.

Funny. That’s a long way from Ohio State.

Whatever, Vonn said. I don’t need a lecture.

You’ll get one. I’ve got your credit card statement. If you run up one more bar tab, I’ll come to Florida and kick your ass.

I know. I went overboard. Jesus, Dash. This is important. He leaned against the wall and lowered his voice. Are you involved in human trafficking?

What the hell? No, Dash said. Christ.

You’re sure?

We concocted a bullshit story about selling girls to get Clint and Ronan’s girl free from a strip club. But I wouldn’t touch real trafficking. Christ. That’s barbaric, Dash said.

Good.

Why?

Your name is being used in connection with a trafficking ring. Larry Slater wants in, Vonn said.

If I were -- which I’m not -- the last person I’d involve would be Larry, Dash said. The pissant.

He wants details.

Tell him to fuck off.

Gladly, Vonn said. I’m going to the police. We can’t get mixed up in this.

Yeah. I’m not wild about the involvement of the law, but we’re clean, Dash said. Take your men and investigate. Try to catch wind of who is using our name, then I’ll destroy him.

Will do. Right away.

Oh, and tell Larry he’s in. Then let the cops have him.

Will do that, too. He laughed. Thanks. Bye, Dash.

Come home. Ma misses you, and you have an entire family to meet.

Later. But he would. He missed the craziness of the Jordan family. His brothers were settling down, and he’d fucked around. Did the girls have families? Did they miss them? Were the girls being treated well? He’d bet they wanted to go home. I’m worried these girls are being abused.

Most likely they are. I’ve got Jon and Kurtis on the way now. Get information and keep me in the loop. I’ve alerted the police and FBI. This isn’t going to go without anyone’s notice, Dash said. We’ll get ‘em.

Thanks, Dash. Will do. He hung up, then tucked his phone into his pocket.

Larry strode into the room. Well? I saw you chatting. What’s the deal?

My brother wants me to eyeball the goods, he said. So he was making shit up along the way. He had no choice. He needed to buy time. Who do I see about checking out the chicks?

Larry smiled. Besides me?

Yes. I want to speak to the man in charge. His phone vibrated. He’d check the texts in a moment. Well?

His name is Pacino.

Like the actor?

Yeah, but he’s not an actor. He’s the real fucking deal. Come on. Larry flicked his fingers. He’ll show us.

Good. Vonn withdrew his phone and read the text. From Dash.

Robert Duke will join you. He has connections. Use him. He’s safe.

A photograph accompanied the text. Good. He had a face to put with the name. He followed Larry through the club. Why did you contact me about this? Vonn asked. Why not go directly to Dash? He barely kept up with Larry. The ass. He probably wanted to show off his dominance.

Because that rat bastard hates me. Larry stopped at the row of limos. You’re approachable.

I’m a kid. He’d aged a lot in the last three years, but he’d use his youth to his advantage. I expect to have my security detail with me at all times. No bullshit or they will shoot your ass.

No. Larry frowned. It’s a business transaction.

Yeah, and you asshats get trigger happy when you’re pissed. I don’t want to go in without some sort of cover, Vonn said. So fuck off. He spotted Robert. Holy hell, Dash worked fast. Robert nodded as he joined Lew and Nic. My team is in place.

Good. Here’s Pacino. There’s plenty of room for everyone. He’ll take us to the sale. Larry opened the limo door. Pacino gets the best girls.

He’d just bet. Lew climbed into the car first, then Nic, Vonn and Robert.

A man sat opposite them on the bench seat. Dark glasses obscured his eyes. His hair had been feathered around his face, and he bore no expression. He folded his arms. Vonn Jordan.

Pacino. Vonn assumed his most cocky attitude. I hear you wish to include my family in a deal.

Not a deal, Pacino said. Your brother wants to buy my girls. He’ll never stock all those clubs on his own. If he wants prime meat, he’ll come to me.

He will. I’m the envoy. Let’s see your stock. He held up his hand. Since I’m the envoy, do know I will be speaking to and for Dash. I know what he wants, but he has the final say.

Of course. Pacino’s expression didn’t change. You think you’re so smart. Dash knows? Jesus. You’re full of shit.

Fine, fucktard. I’m calling and texting my brother so I get the right shit, Vonn said. He runs the God damn family.

Want to run your own empire? Pacino asked. I feel it. You’re tired of playing second or third fiddle to your brother. They’re all assholes, aren’t they?

How do you suppose I create my own empire? He’d love to know how Pacino expected everything to work.

I’ve got a sister. Marry her, and you can run the syndicate down here. Miami would be yours, Pacino said.

Who says I want to run this town? Vonn leaned back in his seat. I’m good at being second or third in command. Plus, he didn’t want to get involved with Pacino’s sister.

Uh-huh. You should see my sister. She’d like you. She’s hot for tall, dark, handsome and young, Pacino said. She’s a knockout.

"Maybe later.