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My chest explodes with an insane mixture of relief and frustration. “What the fuck was she waiting for?” I shout in the phone.
“She didn’t know he was dead. Ava says the news hit her pretty hard.”
“Never mind—I’m hanging up. I’ll text you when we get there.”
“Be careful, brother,” Rowan’s voice is grave.
“I’ve got Logan and Reggie with me.” I’m jogging down the stairs, grabbing my keys off the counter. “Tell Ava good work. She found the answer we’ve been needing.”
“I’ve already requested satellite images. I’ll forward them to you as soon as they’re in.”
The small island is three hundred miles south of Tortola, which requires us to charter yet another jet and fly to Venezuela. I’m frustrated as more time slips through our fingers. We’re past our deadline, and while Rowan is working on his end to buy us more time, I don’t trust Wade Paxton not to hurt her. I can’t shake the images in that hotel room.
It takes another day, but we’re on a boat, speeding toward the small island not far from Aruba. Using the satellite images, Freddie found an abandoned pier hidden in the curve of the island where a series of mineral baths are located. I’m at the bow, staring down the wind and wishing I could push the boat faster through sheer willpower, when I feel a text come through on my phone. It’s from Rowan.
Proceed with extreme caution. A scout visually confirmed Zelda is in the camp. Sending exact location.
An image appears on my phone, and I make my way carefully to the back of the boat, where Logan is driving, I show him the text. His jaw is set and he nods, taking us around to the location of the hidden pier.
I’m keeping my eyes out for other boats or small planes. Reggie tries texting Wade Paxton. He’s determined to facilitate a meeting between the three of us. Personally, I think he relishes the idea of turning our oversized bodyguard loose on that slime.
I make a signal, and I’m heading back for my seat when another text appears—this time from Rowan.
Pax is making good on his threats.
My stomach plunges. His threat was to hurt her. His threat was to send us a piece of her. With trembling fingers, I text a reply. What did he do?
Rowan’s reply doesn’t answer my question. Whatever force is needed I authorize you to use.
He’s telling me I have his permission to kill, to assassinate the prime minister of Totrington. I can’t take it anymore. What happened? I text. I’m two seconds from calling when he replies with an image.
I drop to my knees when I see it. My head is in my hands, and I’m barely holding it together. The sound of the boat engine dies, and my head snaps up. “NO! Get us there NOW!” I’m practically shouting.
Logan’s face is lined. “Sir! What happened?”
“We have to get to her now, Logan. We can’t lose another hour.”
* * *
Reggie stays on the boat as we make our way through the dark jungle in the direction of the camp. Two camps are on opposite ends of the small island. The one holding Zelda is closest to our hidden dock. A long pier is in the center of the island, and we’ve learned cargo ships make occasional, overnight stops here leaving or returning to Venezuela. As far as we know, tonight we’re alone.
“Perfect place to hide a criminal enterprise,” Logan says as we make our way up the dirt road in the direction of the first camp.
We’re armed to the teeth and dressed in black. Our plan is to retrieve Zelda, but my additional plan, once she’s secure on the boat, is to return to this Blix Ratcliffe’s shelter and cut his fingers off one by one then shove them all in his mouth and tape it shut then tie him to a chair and set him on fire. Envisioning his intricately painful execution is the only thing keeping me together as we make our way quickly and quietly to where my love is being held prisoner.
The clearing opens, and in the moonlight, I see a line of small, cinder-block huts. None of them have windows or doors, and in the dim night, they could be hiding anyone. We stand out against the white walls like rocks on the white sand, and I look around for security cameras.
“No time,” Logan whispers. “Move fast.”
I do as he says, not stopping for stealth. I charge up to the first shack, where our scout said he’d seen her taken. Pushing the curtain aside, I see a tiny room with a table in the center and three cots. In the far corner a woman and a girl sleep together, but to my right…
Emotion hits me so hard. She’s wearing that same denim halter dress from the last day I saw her, only it’s slightly different, fuller. She’s lying on her side in the fetal position, but the light from the window touches her blonde hair and cheeks. Her hair is tied back in a braid, and her face is drawn and stressed. Even sleeping, she looks so tired.
Going to her, I gently smooth her hair away. Her bandaged hand is near her face, and I lift it carefully, moving it against her chest. She exhales a noise, and I have to pause as it cuts into my heart. I want to hear her say my name, but I don’t want to scare her. As carefully as possible, I lift her into my arms. Her chest is against mine, her arm over my shoulders, and I slowly lift her.
She presses her forehead against my neck, and I sit on the bed to hold her, hugging her tight, allowing the emotions to pulse through me and into her before we set out into the darkness, heading back to the boat.
“Cal,” she whimpers, breaking my heart. I kiss her full lips gently, and her arms tighten around my neck.
