Page 50 of Taylor’s Warrior

While Nick carried on speaking, going into more detail about what had been found, part of Taylor’s mind was elsewhere, trying to reconcile what she was hearing with the man who’d brought her up. None of it made sense. She was barely aware of Rhys taking her hand in his to give it a reassuring squeeze. She glanced at his face but was too mentally paralyzed to react.

“Taylor. Are you all right?”

She looked at Nick as if he’d spoken in a foreign language. “I’m sorry. I just… I'm really having a really hard time processing all this.”

All of a sudden, a wave of sheer dread swept over her, bringing with it a spasm of nausea. The enormity of it all overwhelmed her. “I feel as if I’m in over my head and I don’t know which way to turn.”

She swallowed the lump from her throat, blinking away tears in the hope they wouldn’t betray her, but she couldn’t fool Rhys. When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, the storm broke, in a torrent of long, shuddering sobs she couldn’t control.

“It’s okay,” Rhys murmured. “Everything will be okay, fy nghariad.”

“I’m sorry, Taylor,” Nick said. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I’ll stop there, but there is more we have to understand. Rachel?”

“Thanks, Nick. Taylor, I’ll try to keep this as brief as possible.”

Rachel paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “Taylor. Rhys. It’s important that we have this conversation before we go into the meeting this afternoon. First of all, given what we know, I had no choice but to recommend that we notify the FBI—and that was before we knew about the kidnappings. Normally, this would have been handled by the resident agency in Waco, but given the complexity, I contacted the field office in San Antonio. Another reason I took that course of action is that I know one of the Special Agents based there. I know it’s short notice, but now there’s more reason than ever to move quickly. I hope that’s okay?”

Although Taylor’s stomach churned, in a way, she was glad she hadn’t been faced with making the choice. “I understand. How much trouble am I in?”

The kindness of Rachel’s gentle smile surprised Taylor. “No more than the rest of us, for not taking this to the FBI immediately. All you did was receive a package addressed to you; all we did was try to find out what you’d been sent, in order to ascertain whether it should be taken to the authorities or not. With regard to your father… well, I’ll come to that in a moment. The important thing is, don’t worry about being in trouble.”

Apart from whatever Rachel was going to say about Charles Markham, it didn’t sound so bad, which helped to calm the pounding in Taylor’s temples. Her heart rate slowed a little, too. “Really?”

“Really,” Rachel reassured her. “I think it would be best if you, Nick and I speak to Cruz together. We all have something to contribute⁠—”

“I want Rhys there, too.” Even with Nick and Rachel to back her up, there was no way she was facing the FBI without Rhys.

He squeezed her hand. “There was never any chance I wouldn’t be.”

Rachel gave a discreet cough. “Now, about your father. There is something I need to make you aware of. Based on my experience as a federal agent, I have to question why your father didn’t take this directly to local law enforcement as soon as he took possession of the evidence. If he believed there was a credible threat to both your lives, you could have been admitted into WITSEC for emergency relocation. The fact that he didn’t do that casts serious doubt on his motives and his degree of involvement.”

Taylor’s stomach lurched. “You’re saying my father… could be criminally involved in this?”

Rachel gave a brief nod. “At this point, we can’t discount the possibility.”

>>><<<

A short time later, they set off for San Antonio in one of the company Escalades. Nick was driving, with Rachel riding shotgun, and Rhys and Taylor in the rear. Rhys had been torn—on the one hand, he felt he should have been up there alongside his boss, but on the other, his role in this enterprise was to support the woman he loved.

Although, as Americans took great joy in telling him, a journey of two to three hours wasn’t “long.” His military experience agreed with them—it was the reason for the journey that made it seem long.

Everything Taylor’s father had sent to her was securely locked in the attaché case stowed beside his feet. Ever wary, Rhys carried out a full sweep of the area they were passing through, paying particular attention to what he could see through the rear-view mirror. With nothing appearing out of place, he returned his attention to the woman beside him. Taylor had—understandably—been quiet for most of the journey so far.

“Hey.” He tried to keep his tone light as he squeezed her hand. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be glad when this is over and we’re headed home,” Taylor replied. “At least then, I’ll know what’s going to happen next.”

“Let me guess—you’ve been trying to think of all the possible outcomes of the meeting with Livingston, and what possible courses of action might be the result.”

“Something like that,” she admitted. “And I can’t help but worry that Rachel might have gotten something wrong, and they’ll arrest me for being an accessory, after all.”

“They won’t,” Rhys asserted. He raised her hand to his lips to kiss the back of her fingers. “But if they do, I promise I’ll break you out, and we’ll go on the run together.”

Taylor’s gaze shot from the window to him, and after a moment of indecision, she rolled her eyes and managed a short burst of weak laughter. “You idiot,” she declared, the affection in her voice belying her words. “You really think this is going to work out all right?”

“I don’t think so—I know so.”

He refused to believe otherwise. Taylor was an innocent pawn when it came to whatever game her father had been playing, and not for the first time, Rhys had to quell the desire to punch the man’s lights out at such time as he ever met the bastard.