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“Where was Miguel? Why didn’t Edgar react?”
“Miguel was preparing for Cindy’s transfer, and Edgar grabbed the bitch while your father sent that message to you. We were hoping you’d get in contact with Amberlyn to discuss what she came for, but instead, everything blew up in our faces.” Dad passes Mom a Kleenex, yet she bats his hand away. She looks so sad. “I’m sorry, papito.”
“Not your fault.” Knocking back a drink, I pour another few fingers’ worth of whiskey. “I’m the idiot that’s let this go on long enough. She believes it because I’ve let her down.”
“You’ll find her. She has to listen.” Dad tries to lighten the mood, to give hope, but the reality is much too somber.
Yet I refuse to lose her.
I can’t and won’t live without my girl. That gorgeous woman with the reddish-black hair and tattoos—with a sense of humor that rivals mine. She’s sarcastic and beautiful and likes to read, but is ready for a night on the town just as fast. Amberlyn is the other half of my soul, taken from my rib as my perfect counterpart, and I will make things right between us again.
I love her. Simply and honest.
“I’m not letting her go either way.”
“Bebe, please answer. Let me explain.” This is the third burner phone I’ve bought since landing. It’s been twenty-four hours, and no one has seen her. Her parents don’t know where she is, but know I’m involved and demand I make it right.
Not a promise hard to keep, but it’d be easier if the stubborn woman would just pick up the phone. Every time I call, she avoids or sends me to voicemail, and if I make her angry enough, I’m blocked.
Silly girl has no idea I’ll burn through a million of these if it gets her to give in, even if it’s just to curse me out. I’ll take that any day over the silence. The cold shoulder.
I try again and get the same response.
Two rings and to a voicemail that’s full at the moment. I’m more than positive ninety percent of those messages are mine.
The separation—this wall between us—is not something I can deal with. It’s brewing, eating at me, and a part of me worries about the explosion that will follow our reunion.
Worry and anger mix while my love for her nearly suffocates me.
She’ll be lucky if I let her out of my sight again.
Even my parents have noticed the change. I’ve always been possessive of her, needed her attention, but this surpasses anything I’ve experienced before. If what Mermaid wanted was to be claimed before, now she’ll be handcuffed to me at all times. If what she needed was validation, now she’ll bear my last name as proof of who owns her.
“Sir, I got Natasha on the phone.” Junior rushes into my home office, phone extended toward me.
“Thank you.” Sitting back in my chair, I place my legs up and cross the ankles atop the desk. The door closes and I breathe in deep before letting it out slowly, trying to calm myself so I don’t snap at my sister-in-law’s cousin. Nat is also my friend. Like a sister to Amberlyn. “Where is she?”
“Ivan, I think she just needs a couple days to cool off. Back off for a bit.”
“Where. Is. She.”
“I can’t betray her trust. All you need to know is she’s safe—”
“There’s a plot to kidnap and sexually exploit her, Nat, by the nephew of Cuba’s president. The man is a Miami detective, you know Uriel and should also be aware he’s been missing since Dalian’s body was found,” I manage to grit out without completely losing it on her. This is my fault, not hers, but right now she’s keeping me from what’s mine. “Please, Natasha. Where is my mermaid?”
“Dominican Republic.” Her voice is low, but I hear it clearly. As if she shouted the answer. “Amberlyn checked into an all-inclusive resort in Punta Cana.”
“Thank you.”
“Will she be safe?”
“She’s mine, and I’d die for her.”
25
Two days before…
MY PHONE rings again, the thirtieth time and counting, but I hit ignore and pick up my drink.
