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With his rocky relationship with his brother, she hadn’t wanted him to struggle with the morality of the decision. Yet knowing how worried he was about Aubrey being at the Fallen Angels’ compound, she’d wanted to do what she could to help.
But he was right, that discussion was for later. For now, she typed him what was important.
“Whatever you find, I’m here. We’ll get through it.”
He met her gaze. “If she’s dead, I’ll be a dumpster fire, Skye.”
Then she’d be a firefighter. One who refused to let what mattered to her become ash. She put all of that in her expression and kissed him, a fierce battle of lips. Then he’d pulled away and was out of the truck.
He gave the other two men a thumbs up. She had a momentary hitch when she saw Lawrence was carrying an assault rifle, Neil checking his own pistol. She didn’t know what to hope for. If there were men with Aubrey, it meant she was alive. But if there were men with Aubrey, it meant they’d have to fight to get her back.
If Aubrey was alone… Her gaze went to the seemingly impenetrable thicket of woods. Abby had once been lost in the bayou, and Neil’s worry over it had made it clear just how dangerous the environment was for someone who didn’t know it.
Tiger had pulled down the goggles, as had Neil and Lawrence. She could see nothing but the hard set of Tiger’s mouth. He didn’t look back as they disappeared into the trees. Neil led the way, Lawrence watching their six with that big gun.
She’d received a brief text from Ros.Standing by. Praying. Keep us posted.The brevity of the message said Ros, Vera, Cyn and Abby knew it was best to let them focus on the mission at hand. No time for handholding, but she expected Ros and Abby were as tense as she was, with their men in a situation that could become far more dangerous than it already was.
Her gut twisted at the thought. Abby’s schizophrenic episodes could be triggered by stress. However, Neil was an active SEAL still, and Abby had learned ways to manage that worry when he was gone, tactics that the TRA women helped her with routinely. Skye was willing to bet they were all together now, for that very reason.
It helped, to imagine them over at Abby’s house, sharing a glass of wine and waiting for news. Supporting one another.Being ready to support Skye, in whatever way she needed it, for herself or Tiger.
On the day Abby had been lost in the bayou, Vera, the most spiritual of their group, had said overwhelming situations called for simple prayers. Ones focused on results.
Please let her be safe, Skye prayed.Let them all get out of this safe.And because it felt right, she added one more.Nicole, Dad, Tiger’s mom…if you’re where you can help, please guide them.
Because even beyond the grave, no one would fight harder to protect a child than the parent who loved them. Who’d done their best to prove that during their lives.
She turned her attention back to her job. Neil had told her she was tactical command, and when it came to anything involving the word “command,” she was on it.
The demons of hell had been unleashed to fuck with them. Tiger pushed down the helpless anger and frustration as the storm’s force increased. Wind lashed through the cypresses, white oaks and palms, their fronds looking like clashing sword blades through the goggles.
The goggle lens streamed with pelting rain, but the thick lacing of the maritime canopy gave them some protection from the deluge. Rainwater peppered the swamp and marsh.
He’d taken off the hearing aids because the roar of the weather made them mostly useless. The three of them were having to shout right up against one another to be heard, though they mostly went by hand signals. At least they were getting closer to the tracker. His phone was in a waterproof sleeve that shed the water enough that he could still see it.
However, the tracker’s continued stubborn refusal to move, and how deep they were getting into a place no one would go unless they were trying to hide something they didn’t want found, was expanding that cold dread in his gut. It was squeezing his chest and making it hard to breathe.
He'd handled some bad shit in his life. Never the death of a child. Never someone who’d stayed at his house in herTangledprincess pajamas and done puzzles with him. Who’d told him she wanted to be a zoologist and in the same breath told him she’d make sure all the zoo animals were taken back to the wild and taught how to be free again. She’d live in a pink camouflage tent among them and feed them good stuff, like ice cream and candy corn.
This wasn’t helping. He shoved it away, called back the man he’d once been to survive. Everything strapped down, the only thing to do being the task ahead of him. Just a task, no matter how unpleasant the outcome.
He was with two men who understood that. While he hadn’t spent much time with Lawrence, the same wasn’t true for Neil. When Abby’s mental illness had manifested, and Neil had been a quiet, watchful presence during her sessions with Tiger, he’d gained a sense of the man’s character.
Anyone the TRA Mistresses trusted, particularly Skye, he knew he could trust. But getting the direct evidence of it in the competent behavior of both men now helped steady him.
For a lot of their walking in this mess, Neil had them follow in his tracks. He had the best experience on where the terrain would get more treacherous. So far, there’d been no sign of anyone lying in wait for them.
That was one plus. Another was their additional backup. Way closer than he wanted her to be to this, but she had to be making deals with the devil to keep giving them as much intel as she was in crap weather conditions like this.
Eventually, however, that deal ran out. A flicker, and the screen went dark. No signal. The intense weather and the thick foliage of their surroundings had likely killed it.
Skye’s last text had read, “you’re within a thousand feet, SE.” Close to a quarter of a mile on open ground shouldn’t be anything. But this was different. Neil and Lawrence had a compass to stay on target, and he followed them, but after they moved forward another few hundred feet, he realized they’d reached a spot where there was nothing but water on three sides. A forest of cypress knees grew in the slow- moving current.
Despair gripped him, a cold fear. He imagined an alligator storing that small body in its cache for eating later. He didn’t know if that made sense, if the tracking signal would even transmit from such a place, but his imagination was starting to resist any attempts to suppress the worst of his nightmares coming true.
Tiger closed his eyes, water running down his neck and back. His jeans were plastered to him, because the poncho only sheltered the top half. But he felt none of it. The cold he felt came from the heart outward.
Nicole had died in his arms. Nicole, who’d tried to convince him to help pull Colt out. He’d been lucky to get himself out, and he’d known Colt wouldn’t leave until their father died. When Colt became President, it went from unlikely to not a chance in hell. But there were other things he could have done. To help Nicole and Aubrey. If he’d known it would end here, like this, what more could he have done?
