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Dylan couldn’t blame his brother. He, too, cared about Erica. There wasn’t another man he wanted by his side more for this mission than Cam.
* * * *
11:10 a.m., Friday – four hours from Destiny, Colorado
Erica’s guilty wounds continued to burn. Still inside the trunk, her mind wouldn’t settle. Though mental not physical, her wounds had been given to her by Kip Lunceford and his gun-totting pawn.
Everyone, including Megan, told her that she’d done nothing wrong. She just hadn’t been able to accept that. Over and over, she’d wrestled with the events of that day. She’d been paralyzed by fear. Human? Yes. But it didn’t help to ease her guilt.
Her only saving grace had been the routines she’d been able to continue.
Arrive early at TBK. Park the car. Head over to Blue’s Diner. Get a bagel and a cup of coffee. Walk down West Street. Reach up and touch the toe of The Green Dragon statue for luck. Back to TBK. Up the elevator. Think about the day’s tasks—not about what happened before. Get to work.
That had seen Erica through her guilty haze—until today.
Halfway through her morning steps, right before she had a chance to touch the lucky toe, the two bruisers had jumped her. Her bagel, coffee, and laptop had fallen to the sidewalk when they’d gagged her. They’d put the hood on her and threw her in their trunk before she had a chance to fight or scream.
She remembered seeing Hiro Phong across the street unlocking the door to his restaurant, but he’d had his back to her and her abductors. No one else was on the streets that early.
I’ve got to stop this. No more negative thoughts.
* * * *
6:55 p.m., Friday – TBK Tower, Destiny, Colorado
Dylan’s Glock was holstered to
his side under his suit coat. It was time to take this mission to the field. His gun needed to be in his hand firing at the people responsible for Erica’s kidnapping. But which of the three locations was she being held? Casper? Vernal? Denver?
Why didn’t I tell Erica she was beautiful?
This rescue mission needed to be underway and in the field already—not in a conference room in front of a computer.
“Fuck,” he said. “Where are the Texans? We need to get on the road—now.”
Scott and Jason turned to him, making him wish he had better control of his emotions. But he wasn’t in control. Not when it came to Erica.
Scott looked down at his iPad. “They’re here. Security just sent them up.”
* * * *
12:21 p.m., Friday – an industrial district of Denver, Colorado
Erica remembered her talks with Nicole, and in particular one certain conversation with her soon-to-be sister-in-law.
“Self-defense begins with your mind,” Nicole had said. “Don’t let it run away from you. Keep it reined in. Start thinking about your next move and the one after that and the one after that.”
Okay. Think. What can I do?
They would have to untie her sometime. When they did, she could kick them in the balls and run. But there were two of them. That likely wasn’t going to work.
What then?
She thought about a certain ex-CIA agent. What would Dylan do? If anyone would know how to get out of this mess, it would be him. God, how she wished the sexy man was here right now. But he wasn’t. Only her.
She felt the car come to a stop.
Her pulse increased.
