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Santiago stepped forward, zeroing in on a room several feet down the hall. The door was cracked, the interior dark. But he swore the sound was coming from inside.
He carefully pushed open the door, his free hand swiping along the wall in search of a light switch. His fingers made contact with the plastic nub and he flipped it up, flooding the room with light.
He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. A large conference table dominated the room, leaving little space for much else. He glanced around, but nothing seemed out of place.
As Santiago turned to go, something on the floor caught his eye. He bent over to get a better look. Was that a trash can, or...
Ice water filled his veins as he realized what he’d mistaken for office furniture was actually someone’s feet. But not just anyone’s.
Ainsley’s.
He rushed forward, dropping to his knees next to her. She was lying facedown, her body completely limp. He pulled her into his arms, and she moaned at the movement.
“Ainsley, come on, wake up for me,” he said frantically. He felt her neck for a pulse, calming only slightly when he found the steady, strong rhythm. She wasn’t dying—not yet, anyway.
She stirred, her eyelids fluttering. “That’s it,” he said encouragingly. “Time to get up.”
“Santiago,” she whispered. “They know.”
“I don’t care,” he said, all thoughts of the Woodses and his mission to take them down flying out of his head. All that mattered was getting Ainsley to safety. She’d already been through so much for his sake—he couldn’t let her suffer through more.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her into a sitting position. “We’re going to get you up.”
Her head lolled back against his chest, but she remained awake. “I can’t walk. Alva injected me with something and now I can’t really move my legs.” There was a note of panic in her voice, and he cupped her cheek with his hand.
“It’s okay, baby,” he assured her. “You will. It’ll come back, I promise.” He didn’t know what drugs she’d been given, but they appeared to be wearing off now. Hopefully it wouldn’t take much longer before she could move on her own again.
Santiago got to his feet, then bent down and gathered Ainsley into his arms. “I’m going to put you in this chair,” he told her. He couldn’t bear the sight of her on the floor any longer.
She tried to help him as he maneuvered her into the seat. She leaned forward, using the table to support herself. “It was Alva,” she told him. “She’s looking for you.”
“I hope she finds me,” he said darkly. He retrieved his cell phone and quickly dialed 911. Then, against the dispatcher’s instructions, he hung up and called Spencer Colton’s cell.
“Come quickly,” he said. “Ainsley’s in trouble.” He rattled off the address of The Marriage Institute and hung up the phone. He didn’t have time for Spencer’s questions right now; he had to get Ainsley out of here before someone found them.
Santiago leaned down and slung her arm across his shoulders. “Come on, Ainsley. We need to move.” The keys to the car were in his pocket; all he had to do was get her inside and they could take off and wait for the police at the turnoff to the main road.
Ainsley grunted with effort as she tried to stand. Just as he got her to her feet, she clutched his shirt with her free hand. “Santiago,” she said.
He heard the note of fear in her voice and turned to follow her gaze.
Alva stepped into the room wearing a smile, Brody on her heels. The older man sized up the situation and lifted his arm, pointing a small pistol at Santiago’s chest.
“Now, where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
* * *
When Ainsley saw the gun in Brody’s hand, she wanted to scream. Fortunately, her throat was too tight to allow any sound to escape.
Brody gestured with his free hand. “You go ahead and put her back down.”
Santiago did as instructed, depositing her gently onto the seat. She didn’t want him to move away, but her arms were too heavy to lift and she couldn’t grab him to keep him close.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Santiago said. He raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “Why don’t we just go our separate ways now? No harm, no foul, am I right?”
Brody shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’ve come too far for that now.”
“What do you mean?” Santiago asked.
