“Right this way, man.”
Leo waves us toward the house, and I follow him inside. After trailing him through a series of secret hallways, we end up in what looks like a bunker prepped for a nuclear holocaust. I pull on black fatigues, boots, body armor, a comm, and enough hardware to sink a small armada.
“Locked and loaded?”
“Let’s move.”
“Good. I’m getting antsy. Haven’t shot a gun in almost eight hours,” Fields says.
Because I was out of the office and Rome was using the Central American base to run ops while I was gone, I have no clue what mission they took on when I left. At this point, I don’t give a shit about anything but climbing in that bird and going after Kat.
Julius is on the couch in the living room when we get there.
“You gonna be okay?” I ask.
He nods. “As long as whoever owns this place doesn’t come back and kill me.”
“You’re straight,” Rome says. “We’ll radio for a friendly to come get you and take you to the hospital. God willing, you’ll see this asshole there in a few hours.” He nods at me.
I don’t give a shit about a hospital.
I cross the room to shake Julius’s hand. “I’m sorry I did you that way, man. I was desperate.”
He gives me a serious look. “Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same for my Margie all those years ago. Do what you gotta do, boy. God bless.”
With that, we leave the house and head for the chopper.
Everyone’s strapped and ready as Tanner tugs the last of the camo netting away, and Leo jumps into the pilot’s seat and fires up the engine. I duck under the rotor wash and load up.
As the chopper lifts off the helipad, I make a promise to myself. We’ll bring Kat home or they’ll bury me at sea. No alternatives.
Chapter 37
Kat
I’ve cried so many tears that I have none left to fall. My throat is dry and scratchy, and my eyes burn. The last however many hours have been something out of a nightmare.
Watching Dane get shot and beaten tore something loose in me, and I’m not sure what it was.
My innocence, maybe?
It was still dark when we pulled up behind a massive, well-lit yacht. I thought we were going to crash right into it, but instead a huge hatch rose in the back, and we drove right up onto some kind of lift.
“Toy compartment,” Vander said with a laugh at my shocked expression.
Every word that came out of his mouth made me want to punch him, but with my bound hands and now my bound ankles, that wasn’t going to happen. More silent men in black polo shirts, perfectly creased khaki pants, and boat shoes met us inside the “toy compartment.”
They looked just like they should—the preppy staff of a really expensive yacht—until you saw the weapons slung over their shoulders and strapped into the holsters at their sides. I don’t know anything about guns, but what they had looked like something you’d see on TV being carried by men guarding a drug lord’s compound. Maybe that’s just where my mind was going because of what Vander said about the cartel.
Since then, I’ve been trying to piece it all together, but I keep stumbling over the idea of Dane as a mercenary. At this point, I don’t know anything for sure, except that I want to go home.
A silent sob jerks in my chest as I sit numbly in the stately cabin they dumped me in a couple of hours ago. At least, I think it was only a couple of hours. I’ve lost track of time, and my head keeps bobbing as I nod in and out.
I’ve worked at the bindings on my wrists and ankles until blood dripped onto the cream-colored chair and matching plush carpet.
Sorry, not sorry. Don’t freaking tie me to a chair next time, assholes.
Finally, the door opens, and I shrink back into the cushions.
“At least you can’t do anything stupid while you’re tied up.”
Vander’s accent is stronger now. Was he disguising it before?
The door opens again, and this time it’s someone unfamiliar, a woman who’s built like a tank and could probably clean up inside a UFC cage.
“April is going to assist in getting you cleaned up so we can photograph you for final bidding.”
His words unleash another round of chills skating over my skin.
“Final bidding?”
“How else do you think we’re going to sell you, Katerina? Auction, clearly.” Vander waves the other woman forward. “Come, April. Let’s get this started. We don’t have all day.”
What is it with bitches and A names? I swear to God, if I ever get home, I’m going to avoid every single one of them for the rest of my life.
Oh, your name is Amy? Sorry. Can’t be friends with you. Allegra? Not only are you an allergy medicine, you’re probably a cunt. Andrea? Let me call the cops in advance, because I assume you’re going to try to kill me.
The thoughts ripping through my head clue me in to the fact that I’m losing my shit. My body shakes as she takes another step forward.
“Please don’t touch me. Just tell me what you need me to do.” I hate that my voice trembles, but at this point, my reserves of inner strength are tapped out.
Vander studies me for a moment, no doubt trying to determine my sincerity. He must see the truth because he jerks his head toward a closed door.
“Bathroom is through there. Go shower. There’s nothing you can use as a weapon, but April will introduce you to a new level of pain if you try anything at all.” He closes the distance between us as he talks, finally reaching out to grip my chin with two fingers. “Understand me, Kat?”
I nod.
Vander straightens and stretches out a hand, palm up. April pulls a wicked-looking blade from a sheath at her side and, holding it by the tip, places the handle in Vander’s hand.
It takes everything I have to muster one last show of courage and not shrink away and squeeze my eyes shut.