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He’s angry. Still so angry at the person who took Amira from him.
“The guys responsible for me are gone anyway. Derek Wolfe is dead. The priest is dead.”
“It’s not that simple. Someone put those women in Derek Wolfe’s path. In Katelyn’s case, it was a cousin?”
“How would you know?”
Buck clears his throat. “She and I have talked, and I’ve talked to her boyfriend as well.”
“Luke?”
“Yes.”
“So you think someone alerted them to me. Sold me out?”
“I think so.”
“Why? Why me?”
“You’re beautiful and athletic and wonderful. So why not you, I suppose. But you had a whole team of volleyball players staying in the hotel.”
“Some of whom are way more beautiful than I am,” I say.
“I doubt that. But that’s not my point. Someone zeroed in on you, and I want to know who put you in that position.”
“Does it matter?” I sigh. “What’s done is done. We can’t erase the past. All we can do is forget about it and move on.” And I laugh. I laugh out loud at my own words. “Forget about it? They’ll tell me I can’t. That I have to move forward and deal with the memories if I want to heal fully. I just don’t want to, Buck. I don’t want to remember.”
“I understand. I wish I didn’t remember.”
“What happened to you, Buck? I can’t even imagine.”
“You don’t want to imagine, but if anyone can imagine, it might be you, Aspen.”
“At least I didn’t have to fear for my life.”
“I suppose not.” Another throat clear.
“But there were women who disappeared from the island. Women who went on hunts and never came back.”
“So they were killed?”
“None of us know for sure. We just assumed. Diamond always said they weren’t allowed to kill us, but—”
“Diamond?”
“Yeah, she took care of us. We called her our house mother. No one really knows who she is.”
Buck clears his throat a third time. “I know. I know who she is.”
“You do? Who is she?”
“Her real name is Irene Lucent. Technically Irene Wolfe. She was Derek Wolfe’s first wife.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my face. “His wife? She married that maniac?”
“She did.”
“All that time? She was a part of it?” I shake my head, nearly gasping out a sob. “She claimed to care about us, Buck. She—”
“Baby, she did care about you. She had her reasons for what she did.”
“No reasons that were good enough.”
“No reasons that either you or I can understand,” he says. “She did it to protect her child.”
“She had a kid?”
“Yes. Her son with Derek Wolfe. In fact, I guess we all owe that son our gratitude.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s the one. He’s the one who killed the motherfucking bastard.”
“Derek Wolfe was killed by his own son?”
“He was. His only legitimate son, actually. Derek Wolf never divorced Irene—Diamond. So his marriage to Constance Larson was never legitimate.”
I raise my eyebrows. “The Wolfe siblings are illegitimate?”
“Technically, yes. But it doesn’t really matter. They were still heirs to his fortune.”
“And the other kid? What did he get?”
“He was supposed to get the island, that whole enterprise.”
“My God, he was in on it?”
“He was.”
“I don’t understand any of this, Buck. What does it all mean?”
“I’m not sure myself, but Jordan—that’s the name of the kid—turned on the old man at the end. Fell in love with his girlfriend. The model Fonda Burke.”
My head is hurting. Pounding like a hammer. It’s all too much information.
And I shriek.
I shriek like my head is about to explode.
21
BUCK
It’s torture. Sheer torture hearing Aspen scream like that.
And I know what torture is.
This is sheer emotional torture. Sure, it’s not hurting me physically—and I’ve been hurt physically beyond my limitations.
Mentally, emotionally…
I can’t take it.
I’ve had to stop women from screaming before. I’ve had to knock them senseless to stop it.
But I won’t do that to Aspen. I will never lay a hand on her to quiet her. Our lives are not in danger here.
But damn…
The shrieking…
It takes me back.
“Amira,” the woman chokes out in broken English. “My name is Amira.”
Her cheek is swollen from where I slapped her to get her to stop screaming.
“I’m sorry, Amira. But I had to quiet you down. If they hear us—” I look over my shoulder. “If they hear us, they’ll kill us both.”
She nods, bites her bottom lip.
“Do you understand me? Do you understand English?”
She nods again.
“Okay, good. I only know a little bit of Arabic. Enough to get by. Or is Kurdish your language?”
“Kurdish,” she says in her soft accent. “But my English is good.”
Her voice… Even after all that screaming… It’s so soft and gentle, like an angel’s.
“I’ll never lay a hand on you again, Amira. Trust me on that.”
She nods.
I see trust in her big brown eyes. Why? She has no reason to trust me. I’m an American. A SEAL.
I look deeper—deeper into those eyes that have seen things no young woman should have to see.
