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In that moment, he knew what he had to do. He’d told her they’d meet with the K19 team together, but they wouldn’t be.
—:—
When Gunner crept from the bed, Raketa continued to
pretend she was asleep. Talking to him now was out of the question. If she did, she’d tell him every secret she’d ever held close, every detail about the first thirty years of her life, and every single dream she’d had of him. Instead, she let him close the door on her unspoken words.
She slid from under the sheets of his bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. From there she could see him outside, on his phone, anxiously running the fingers of one hand through his hair.
Was he calling his K19 teammates to arrange for their help as he’d told her, or was he betraying the confidences she’d shared with him?
Doubt ate at her and she hated it.
—:—
“Hey, Raze,” Gunner said when his buddy answered his call. “Petrov is Ivashov’s father. The woman being held on his compound is her mother.”
“Shiv has been on standby, waiting for your confirmation.”
“Tell him I’m ready.”
“Good work, man.”
“Let me know when Mantis will be here.”
“Roger that.”
12
When Raketa finally came out of the room, Gunner was nowhere to be found. She’d watched him walk through the woods after he’d stuck his phone in the waistband of his shorts. That had been over two hours ago.
Soon it would be dark, and she was hungry. There was a bowl of fruit on the table in the kitchen; she ate a banana and then, a half hour later, an apple.
The knock on the door startled her. Why was Gunner knocking on his own door?
“What are you doing here?” she asked the man standing on the other side of it.
“I’m taking over your detail,” Monk said as he pushed past her.
“Why?”
The reality hit her in the face as hard as she wanted to punch the wall in front of her. Gunner had done exactly what he said he wouldn’t do. He’d used intimacy to get her to tell him what he wanted to know, and then as soon as she had, he left.
“I asked you a question,” she seethed at Monk. “Why are you here and where the hell is Gunner?”
He walked farther inside without answering her and dropped his bags on the floor near the hallway.
* * *
Two days had passed without Monk speaking to her, and without word from or about Gunner. Every minute that went by, fueled her anger. Her new handler didn’t seem to give a shit about what she was doing, or even if she ate or not. He regularly made himself something to eat without bothering to ask if she wanted anything.
“Where is Gunner?” she’d asked again and again, with varying degrees of anger, but even when she railed at him, the man refused to answer.
With Gunner gone and Monk refusing to speak to her, she had a lot of time on her hands. Each day she looked for ways to get off the island, to no avail.
She hadn’t felt this powerless since she was eighteen years old, and the lack of control was feeding a rage like she’d never felt.
It wasn’t long before she shifted her goal from getting off the island, to killing her new handler.
