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“Kieran.” I’d pawn my heart. I’d be someone else’s willing slave, do anything just so I didn’t hear the fear in her voice while trying to make me think she’s fine.
“Sweetheart, I love you.”
“I love you too. I’m sorry, but Chiara needed my help. And I was coming back. I swear.”
A scream rips from her throat before the phone clatters to the ground. All that remains are those piercing sounds and my heart tearing from my chest.
Hayden hangs up and says as we get in the jet, “I thought you took care of your father and Delaney.”
“We did.”
“Then someone is helping them.”
He taps a finger on his knee and places a call. In the next ten minutes, he organizes an army.
“I have her,” I say as I detect the dot moving and finally breathe. I will come to get you, sweetheart, and no one will ever dare to take you from me again.
“You’re not our fucking uncle and definitely not my fucking half brother,” Cameron says, and Hayden looks him straight in the eye.
“Are you sure?”
“Start talking,” I say, my fingers tapping on the gun. I don’t need his fucking help to get her.
“We can have this conversation after we get them back safely.”
I put the safety back on the gun and drop back in my seat. Hours. It will take hours to get to her. I drag a hand down my face and he says, “We will find her.”
“Why does she trust you so much? Buying into all your bullshit?”
“You should ask her that.”
Silence follows. I watch the dot move over the water.
“I need a submarine and a helicopter. She’s not on land anymore.”
Hang in there, sweetheart.
We crawl toward the wall with renewed hope, but it will be impossible to climb it. Maybe I can lift her. One of us would have a better chance of escaping.
The voices approach. Each step they take in our direction vibrates the ground under my feet and hands.
“Got you, bitch.”
The gun hits my head, and Chiara screams before everything darkens.
I fall in and out of consciousness. When I can finally peel my eyes open, I cradle my head. My fingertips are red from the wound. I hiss in pain, but the panic takes over and I bolt upright. I am in a bed, and from what I can see out of a round window, water is stretching endlessly. On shaky limbs, I rise and pull at the doorknob, but it doesn’t budge. Remembering Chiara, I pound my fists at the door.
The door is yanked open, and I take a step back as a massive man enters. My heart shoots in my throat, but I swallow it right back where it belongs. My fight-or-flight instinct activated.
“Shut up already.”
“Where is my friend?”
He backhands me and I fly onto the bed, holding my cheek. Blood flows in my mouth.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Annoyance flickers in his eyes and he approaches me. The glint of malice has my stomach churning with unease. I brace myself for another slap, but he yanks me by my hair. I scratch at his forearms.
