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CHAPTER 1
Joel Hayward
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Are you a coaster?”
I grinned and eyed her in the rearview. “I think you mean Coastie. I’m in the Coast Guard.”
“Huh.” She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and looked out the window. “I’m pretty sure Gammie said coaster.”
I shook my head to myself. I guess I was a coaster.
* * *
Aslew of curses rushed through my earpiece, and judging by the anger from River and Reese, the man with a bag over his head currently being escorted to the center of the amphitheater was their Shay.
Reese growled under his breath. “I’m gonna kill all of them.”
“We will.” Greer spoke in a low, threatening tone.
I inhaled deeply and adjusted my scope, keeping Shay in my sights. I was about…fifty-six yards away from him.
“Everyone in position?” Emerson asked.
“JH confirmed,” I reported, like the rest did.
All of us were standing some forty yards apart, in the thicket between the entertainment area and the outer wall. Only Danny was hiding out somewhere on the other side of the stage, and he confirmed his position too.
Two men pulled the bag from Shay’s head and uncuffed him, followed by harsh spotlights suddenly flooding the stage.
Knowing that not everyone had eyes on the guy—considering the marble stands blocked the view on the sides—I inspected the kid and gave a brief report. “Minor visible wounds, some bruises, gaze focused, he’s alert.” Dirty-blond hair, pale, tatted-up, muscles tense.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and rain was just what we needed to really turn the Blanco estate into a muddy slip ’n slide. We were all covered in sweat, humidity, and grime as it was.
“Crew is on the second platform.” That was Elliott.
I clenched my jaw and shifted my scope to scan the surroundings. The bottom patio hosted primarily women and children. The second one—there. I saw Crew too. He was standing close to the balustrade, stare fixed on Shay. The men seated at the grand table behind Crew were in the process of standing up. Dinner was over. Time for the big fight.
Who could Mercier be? Cullen had shown me a photo of Crew, ’cause I couldn’t remember the kid from Elliott’s barbecue, but I had no idea what Adrien Mercier looked like.
“Where’s the Fed?” Thankfully, Greer had the same question.
“Tall guy right behind Crew, talking to the bald man in a blue suit,” Danny responded.
Okay, noted.
“Anyone got eyes on Marco?” I asked quietly. Because he was my target. He knew where my daughter was.
I kept seeing her face… Her wavy hair, her silvery-blue eyes lit up with mischief…
The light of my life.
I heard her too. Crying out for me, begging me to save her. Each sob was a knife to my heart, and the echoes of her agony distorted the images of her cute-as-fuck, happy expression. Wiping away the grins and replacing them with pain and fear.
“He might be on the third patio—I don’t see him,” Reese replied.
