Chapter One
Hugo
Presentday
My hand tremblesas I yank my cell phone out of the pocket of my running shorts. My body is slicked with sweat, and my heart is pounding against my chest. There has only been one time in my life I haven’t wanted to make a call. It was when I had to tell my best mate that my sister, his wife, had been critically injured in a tragic accident. If that wasn’t bad enough, the same accident claimed the life of their unborn son. My initial plan was to wait until Hawke’s feet touched home soil before telling him about Jorgie’s accident, but I didn’t have the chance to wait that long. He knew something wasn’t right the instant he heard me speak. I’ll never forget the howl of a broken man that resonated down the line that day. It was the sound of a soul being shattered with no possibility of beingrepaired.
Against doctor’s advice, we kept Jorgie on life support for three days so Hawke could return from duty in Iraq and say his final goodbye to the love of his life in person. Jorgie was buried the day after his return with their son, Malcolm, cradled in her arms. Part of me died the day my sister did. We were two peas in a pod, rebels cruising through life one adventure at a time. Her life was perfect. Until it was brutallyrippedaway.
Now, for the second time in my life, I have to tell a man the woman he loves is gone, snatched right under my nose by men who wish her harm. Protecting Isabelle is my job, the most vital task of my employment contract. But even if it weren’t, I'd still protect her. Izzy has a lot of the same qualities as my sister Jorgie. She is the same age as Jorgie was when she passed away. They have the same dark hair and fair skin, but instead of Izzy having Jorgie’s cornflower blue eyes, hers are a rich chocolate brown color. But the biggest similarity of all is their personalities: little firecrackers who keep everyone surrounding them on their toes, making sure life never gets boring. I wouldn’t necessarily say my life has been dull the past five years, but when Izzy crashed into Isaac’s life, things certainly became moredynamic.
Before Izzy arrived in the picture, I’d spent the past five years as Manager of Operations in the background of Isaac’s empire, hidden from prying eyes. I handled acquisitions and proposals presented to his company and assessed the capabilities of any nightclubs he was considering purchasing. Isaac knew the instant he met Izzy she was his game changer, so he took measures to ensure she would always be protected. The very first task he did was alter my job description. Most would see my transition from Manager of Operations to a Protective Detail as a downgrade. I don’t. Knowing Isaac trusts me enough to take care of Izzy when he can’t is more rewarding than any fancy job title would ever be. Not only did I get the opportunity to thank Isaac for saving my life, I got to leave the stuffiness of my boring nine to five office job that was becoming as tedious as folding my overflowing laundry basket every Sundaymorning.
The only bad thing that has come from Izzy’s sudden inclusion in Isaac’s life is realizing what I sacrificed by not taking the time to rationally consider the consequences of my actions. Instead of evaluating how greatly my life was going to change from the mammoth decision I made five years ago, I once again became a bull in a china shop, charging first and asking questions later. I live with the repercussions of my decision every day of my life, but seeing the way Izzy looks at Isaac makes the demise of my previous life even more apparent. But I can’t change the past; I can only shape the future. And right now, my focus needs to remainonIzzy.
The muscles in my thighs burn as I sprint down 42ndStreet, chasing the white Range Rover with an unconscious Izzy splayed in the backseat. I tried to get her out. I smashed the back window of the Range Rover with my fists trying to save her. But I failed.Again.
My feet stomping on the sidewalk drown out the thumping of my heart as I dial a number I know by heart. Lifting the cell phone to my ear, I push it in close, making sure I can hear Isaac over the shrill of my pulse inmyears.
“Hugo,” Isaacgreetsme.
His tone is stern, like always, but with a slight hint of playfulness. I knew he would have seen it this morning, the spark in Izzy’s eyes that told him she was coming back to him. I’d seen it emerging over the past few days: the way her ears would prick when my untraceable cell phone would ring, her long stares into space that would end with her arms prickling, and the way she finally stood up to the two-faced bitch, Clara. Seeing Izzy finally having the gall to stand up to Clara was all I needed to know she was ready to forgive and forget. To let love win. To stop fighting fate. Now, she may never get heropportunity.
“They have her. They’ve taken Izzy,” I say, my words barely audible in my breathlessstate.
Isaac inhales a sharp, quick breath, no doubt the sound of his heart freezing in ice cold fear. It is the same feeling I had when he told me I had to walk away from Ava nearly five years ago when we stood out front of my sister’shouse.
“Walk away or risk her life. The choice is yours,” he saidthatday.
To me, there was no choice. I was always going to protect Ava, until my very last breath. So I walked away. Not just for a moment, but for a lifetime. Although Ava and I were only together mere weeks as a couple, I gathered enough memories to last me a lifetime. I watched her sleep for hours, absorbing and categorizing every look that adorned her beautiful face. Every smile and every frown was assessed in great detail. They are the memories that have kept me going the past five years. Even though our time together was short, I’m grateful I got to experience those moments with her. Not many people get the opportunity to meet their soulmate. I did and I'll be forever grateful for that. I know memories can’t compete with the real life moments, but when they are all you have, you take what youcanget.
“Who has her?” Isaac asks, his low tone dragging me back to thepresent.
“I don’t know. They pulled her into a white Range Rover at the bottom of St. Thomas Street,” I answer, my words breathless. “Fuck, Boss, I’m sorry, I only left her for aminute.”
As the remnants of a nightmare cling to my skin, Izzy’s words about being a coward and hiding from my family hit me harder than normal. Although my nightmares have become a rarity the past five years, as the anniversary of the incident in Afghanistan creeps closer, my nightmares are resurfacing stronger than ever. But instead of absorbing the sting of Izzy’s words like the man I am, I stormed off in anger, too overwhelmed with a barrage of emotions hitting into me at once to continue our argument. That was all it took for them to snatch her. Mereseconds.
My eyes lift to the Range Rover when it slams on its brakes and mounts the curb to avoid missing a blue sedan that suddenly pulled out in front of it. I barge my way through the dense foot crowd that always clogs Ravenshoe, pushing past a throng of people unaware of the danger surrounding them. In any other town, chasing a car by foot would be a fruitless effort, but thankfully for me, Ravenshoe has as many traffic issues as NewYorkCity.
Isaac’s breathless grunt comes sounding down the line, reminding me I have my cell phone pressed againstmyear.
“Where are you now?” he queries, his voicejittering.
I cut across the T intersection of Tivot and Mark. My brisk pace halts when a truck comes out of nowhere, charging towards me. It slams on its brakes, infusing the air with the smell of burning rubber and smoke. The best parts of my life flash before my eyes as the grill of the truck inches towards me. Tires bouncing across the asphalt and the sound of a horn honking shrieks through my ears. Time freezes and everything goes deathlyquiet.
I release a ragged gasp when the truck narrowly misses hitting me by half an inch. After gathering my heart off the floor, I recommence my chase. I jump over the tray of the truck and increase my speed. Motorists honk their horns and curse as I sprint by. My lungs are heaving, incapable of securing a full breath, but the strong mix of adrenaline and determination is keeping megoing.
“I’m tailing them on foot,” I inform Isaac, my wordswinded.
My body is beyond exhausted, screaming in pain. But I can’t give up. I can’t fail…again.The look in Izzy’s eyes when she thrashed against her attacker as he held a white cloth over her mouth is going to haunt my dreams. Another item added to my alreadyexhaustivelist.
“They just pulled down Tivot,” I advise when the white Range Rover mounts the curb, barely missing a pedestrian waiting tocross.
The veins in my neck thrum when the passenger of the Range Rover tilts his torso out of the window. He is a large brute of a man, easily my height, and a good twenty pounds heavier. A snake tattoo slithers up his right arm toward a face only a mother could love. The corners of his mouth curve into an arrogant smirk at the same time he produces a black pistol. I inhale a sharp breath as my eyes scopethearea.
“Fuck. Get down!” I scream at the mass gathering of peoplesurroundingme.
The gunman aims his pistol at me, not the slightest bit concerned for the safety of the innocent bystanders milling around the space, enjoying their Sunday morning. I rush towards a middle-aged woman frozen in fear at the bus stop. A rustle of air escapes her lips when I push her out of the lineoffire.
