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Chapter Twenty-Three
Santos
We’ve just landed in Prague, and we’re currently getting into two blacked-out SUVs. Lom’s behind the wheel of one with Nazyr in the passenger seat while I’m in the passenger seat of Ruslan’s. Lom’s in the first car, driving to the coordinates where Eset’s GPS is pinging from. I’m praying to God over and over again that this is her, but it’s entirely too coincidental to be anyone else.
Lom and Ruslan are driving like bats escaping hell through the streets, and I’m damn sure the police are going to stop us at some point, but the brothers continue on. We eventually make it out of the city limits, and Lom takes a state road to the left, where we’re driving completely through what looks like farmland. There’s hardly anything on either side of the road except remnants of where the crops were cut from the last harvesting season.
Ruslan’s right on Lom’s ass as he drives over eighty miles per hour, and Lom starts tapping on his brakes. We must be close. We have to be. I scan the area and spot a house off in the distance. Could that be where Eset is? As Lom turns right down the long, dirt driveway, I know this has to be it.
We roll up to the house and throw the cars into park, then each of us gets out of the vehicles with guns drawn. Goran comes rushing out of the house, looking a bit frazzled, and it’s never been clearer to me. He’s behind this. “What are you doing here?” Goran questions us, baffled beyond belief.
“We’re looking for my sister since her GPS is pinging at this location,” Ruslan states clearly, keeping his gun pointed at Goran’s forehead.
Goran swallows hard. “Eset has a tracking device? Why didn’t I know about it?”
“Because some secrets are only reserved for family,” Lom adds, glaring at Goran with all his might.
“So help me God, Goran, if you’ve harmed a hair on her head, I will—” I start off, not keeping an ounce of rage back.
“You will what, Santos? All you are is a man who makes idle threats. Not once have I seen you in action, and I never think I will.” Goran cackles, trying to be intimidating when the reality is he’s just looking like a pathetic fool. He’s the one who got caught here. It’s not the other way around.
I pull the safety back on my gun and fire, aiming directly at his right knee. Goran goes down, and blood covers his lightly faded denim jeans. I pull the trigger again, this time pointing at his other knee, and before I even give him a moment to process that I’ve shot him in his other knee, I shoot him in one shoulder and then the next.
“Goran, I’m a man of action. You’ve just never been high on my priority list. A man knows he truly has power when he has the choice of using it or not. So tell me again what you think of me, and allow me the immense pleasure of proving you wrong,” I snarl at the man as he’s leaning on his bloody knees while blood soaks through his shirt now as well.
“Help!” Eset’s voice can be heard in the distance, and I look at Ruslan and Lom for a brief moment.
“Go to her. We’ll keep an eye on him,” Ruslan states, not taking his eyes off Goran.
Goran’s smiling, like the crazed lunatic he is, as I walk by him, but I see why out of the corner of my eye. He has a gun behind his back, and it’s like it happens in slow motion. Goran reaches for the gun, and when it’s in his hand, I begin firing into his chest, one round after the other, until he falls into a lifeless puddle on the ground.
“Fuck, that was close,” Lom says, running his hand across his chest.
“Yes, it was, but I knew Santos could handle himself,” Ruslan speaks up, and I continue into the house in search of my wife. I go in through the front door and clear my throat.
“Mi amor, where are you?” I call out, but instead of hearing Eset, I hear a child crying. A fucking baby? Is that the girl Eset’s been looking for all this time? Fuck, how old is this child?
“Go to her, then come find me!” Eset calls out from down the hallway.
I do as my wife wants and follow the crying until I’m in a kitchen, and there’s a small, crappy crib right next to a table. There’s a little girl in the crib who can’t be older than two. She has straight, icy blonde hair and the fairest skin I’ve ever seen. Her hair and skin almost blend together because that’s how fair she is.
The little girl has big, gray eyes, and tears pour out of the corners of them, rolling down her cheeks in an effortless flow. “Ssssh, little one.” I try to coax her as I hold my hands out for her, but she only begins crying more. This poor child has probably never known true love, especially for however long she’s been in this house.
Meryem continues crying, but I finally scoop her into my arms and hold her against my chest. One hand is on the small of her back, while the other is against the back of her neck, rubbing her gently. “It’s okay, little one. You are safe now. I promise,” I tell her, not even sure if she speaks English, but it’s all I can do to give her a bit of reassurance at the moment.
Meryem continues crying, and I walk back into the hallway where I heard Eset’s voice coming from earlier. Eventually, deadbolts and locks come into view, so I rush over to them and turn every deadbolt, so they’re unlocked. Fortunately, the other locks Goran had on the door aren’t even locked. They’re simply hanging through holes. I take the hand that I have behind Meryem’s neck and begin pulling the locks off one by one before yanking the door open.
Eset puts her hand over her eyes as soon as I open the door, and then she rises to her feet. “Fuck, how did you find me?” For the first time ever, I hear the slightest bit of emotion in my wife’s voice.
“Anzor put tracking devices in you and Nazyr when you were little. We were able to get Nazyr’s ID, and then we looked at the numbers before and after. One of them pinged here.”
Eset has tears slipping from the corners of her eyes, and then she begins to sob. She’s in shock, and I know it, so I close the distance between us and wrap my arm around her. She cries against my chest, naturally terrified from everything she’s endured.
“Tell me he’s alive, please,” Eset manages to get out. Why the fuck would she want the man who abducted her alive?
“He isn’t, Eset. He tried to kill me, so I was forced to put him down.” I keep it plain and simple, and Eset pulls away from me, looking right into my eyes.
“He gave me so much information, Santos. He… fuck! He confirmed everything Guerrero said in his dying moments and gave me more information that I never even knew about. He had all of the identities of the people in support of my mother, and now he’s dead. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Eset storms past me, and I know my wife isn’t angry with me. She’s angry at the situation because she wants to know who these people are. If I were her, I’d want to know as well.
