“She okay?” Anderson asks, dropping down beside me.
“I think so. She’s sleeping.”
“It must’ve been GHB,” Hunt says. “And based on the fact she didn’t pass out until now, I’d say he gave her a low dose.”
“It’s still dangerous, and we need to get her checked out.” Gently, I brush hair back off her brow.
“Agreed, but what are we going to do about him?” Anderson asks.
I wish there had been more time to plan this, but there wasn’t. We had to react fast.
I was just about to leave Anderson’s place after Sunday dinner when I noticed multiple missed calls and texts from the PI I hired to watch over Nessa. I called him immediately, losing my shit when he confirmed she’d been picked up by a private car and driven to the private airfield at Logan International. I knew she was going to Montgomery, and I went into complete panic mode. Right then, whether she played me or not didn’t matter. All I cared about was that she was going to meet that prick, and I was terrified.
I ran back inside and blurted everything to my friends. We cobbled a plan together, leaving quickly to chase after her. The girls weren’t happy about staying behind, but we had no idea what we were walking into and it was too dangerous. Besides, Christian probably has eyes on us, and if everyone disappeared, it might’ve tipped him off.
Thank fuck, Nessa had her cell with her and Hunt had had the wherewithal to plant trackers in all her bags too. Drew managed to get us out on the Manning Motors private jet a few hours later, and from there, with Xavier’s remote help, we followed Nessa to Lanzarote. Then, we had to bide our time and wait for an opportunity to present itself.
The last twenty-four hours have been the longest of my life, and I didn’t sleep a wink last night, worrying about what he was doing to her in that fortress up on the cliff.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Hunt replies, dragging a hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically ruffled. “I doubt we can bribe that local guy to get rid of his remains as easily as we bribed him to take us out to the caves.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Anderson rubs at his temples.
“Calling or emailing for help is too risky. We can’t leave any trails,” I say.
“The obvious solution is to dump his body in the ocean and let the sharks take care of it,” Anderson supplies. “Then we clean this shit up, chart a course to someplace safe and catch a plane home from there.”
“Sounds like a viable plan. Lauder?” Hunt eyes me. “It’s your call.”
I nod just as the rumble of an engine pricks my ears. Our heads whip up at the same time.
“What fresh hell is this?” Anderson asks, eyeing the black speedboat chopping through the water, making a beeline for us, with trepidation.
There isn’t time to clean up the mess in the boat or to dispose of the body, so we’ll just have to face the music. Laying Nessa down flat on the seat, I kiss her cheek before standing beside my friends. I grab the Glock and open the door. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jackson
THE SPEEDBOAT PULLS up alongside the back of the yacht, cutting the engine and laying anchor. We stand as a united front at the back of Montgomery’s boat, arms folded, waiting for them to make themselves known. The Glock is tucked into the back waistband of my shorts, close at hand if we should need it. Two guys with jet-black hair and serious expressions walk to the side of their boat, facing us. “Mr. Lauder,” the slightly taller one on the left speaks. “We’re employed by your father. He sent us to follow you.”
Hunt, Anderson, and I exchange wary expressions.
“He’s been trying to reach you,” he adds.
Our clothes, cells, wallets, and other personal belongings are back on the boat we used to get here. A local guy we met at the marina received a handsome sum to drop everything and bring us out here. We promised him we’d double the money if he waited for us and took us back to shore, but that plan is scrapped now.
“I don’t have it on me.”
The other guy extracts his cell, punching in some buttons. A couple of minutes later, he passes the cell to me.
“Hello.”
“Jackson. Thank God.” My father’s relieved voice filters down the line.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“I’ll explain everything when I see you. I promise. You can trust my men.” There’s a pregnant pause. “Did you get to him?” He doesn’t need to name him, or ask the question he really wants to ask, for both of us to know who and what he’s referring to.
“It’s over.”
Dad bursts out crying, and I swallow over the massive lump in my throat. The only other time I’ve seen or heard my father cry is when Dani died. He was inconsolable for days. I shuffle awkwardly on my feet, my gaze landing on Anderson’s. He clamps a hand on my shoulder in support.
“It was supposed to be me.” Dad sniffles. “I didn’t want you carrying that responsibility, Jackson.”
“It was always going to be me, Dad.”
Silence engulfs us for a minute. He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, he’s the formidable businessman I know. “Here’s what’s going to happen. My men will handle the scene and get you to safety. I’ll send a plane for you.”
“We have a plane,” I cut across him. “The Mannings’ private jet is waiting for us.”
“I’ll contact Drew and get it rerouted. Your mother and I are in London, so it will only take a few hours to get here. Stay sharp. See you soon.” He hangs up before I can argue, but that’s okay, because I won’t be arguing with him today. It’s easier with his help, and it sounds like he wants to have a serious conversation, which is something I’ve desired for the past year.
I hand the cell back to his guy, as the other dude’s cell rings.
“What’s going on?” Hunt asks.
“Dad’s guys will clean up here and get us to the plane. We’re visiting my parents in London, but it’ll be a quick visit.” I glance at Anderson. “See if you can find Nessa’s bag. We know she brought one.” I jerk my head at the stairs to the upper level. “I’m guessing it’s up there.”
Anderson heads off to investigate.
The taller guy ends his call and jumps from his boat to ours. “You can go with my colleague. He will arrange your transportation.”
“We need to pick up our clothes,” I explain. “And my girlfriend needs medical attention.”
“I will organize it,” he says.
Twenty minutes later, we are on our way. The local dude has been paid off. We have our clothes and shit, and Anderson updated Abby while Hunt spoke to Xavier. I’m holding Sleeping Beauty in my arms, and I can’t wait to get the fuck away from this island.
We arrive on the neighboring island of Fuerteventura thirty minutes later to discover an ambulance and a blacked-out Land Rover waiting for us. Nessa is still out cold, but the EMT, a man I guess to be in his early thirties with very good English, checks all her vitals while I do my best to answer his questions. He tells us there isn’t much we can do but wait for the effects to leave her system. He says all trace of GHB is usually gone within twelve hours, which is one of the reasons why it’s so popular as a date-rape drug.
Nessa needs rest, sleep, food, and water. We thank him and get settled in the car. Anderson sits up front with my dad’s guy who doesn’t say very much, but that’s okay because Nessa is sleeping and we’re all exhausted.
The private jet has a bedroom which I commandeer when we climb on board. Not that the guys would ever protest.
The girls come first.
Always.
Which is something I should never have forgotten.
I place Nessa under the covers, tucking them up under her chin, before crawling on the outside, lying down beside her. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have because I wake with a start when I feel the bed moving.
Nessa is sitting up on the side of the bed. Her legs are planted on th
e floor, her shoulders are hunched, and she has her head in her hands.
“Nessa.” My sleep-laden tone bounces off the quiet walls. “Are you okay?”
She moves her body slowly, as if she’s carrying a heavy weight, turning to face me. Beautiful blue eyes, that star in my dreams, lock on mine. Although her eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, her face is a shade paler than usual, and her hair is a mess of tangles, she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. “My head hurts. I feel nauseous, and I’m a bit confused,” she admits in a hoarse voice.
Sitting up, I yawn, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “Maybe, I can help unless you’d rather not know.”
She considers that for a minute, shaking her head. “I’d prefer to know.”
Swinging my legs around, I stand. “Okay. But let me get you some water first.”
Her lower lip trembles, and tears pool in her eyes. “He spiked my water, Jackson. I’m so stupid. I knew it tasted off. Salty. If I hadn’t drank it, I could’ve fought him off.”
Walking around the bed, I sit down beside her, careful to keep some distance between us even though I want to hold her in my arms and kiss her fears away. But I don’t want to crowd her. She’s been through an ordeal, and I don’t know if my touch will comfort or frighten her.
“This isn’t your fault. He was a sick bastard who loved to hurt women.”
“Was?” she whispers. I watch as her expression transforms from confusion to panic to relief. “You … you killed him.”
I nod. My throat is as dry as the Sahara Desert when I speak. “I had hoped you didn’t see that.” I know I was out of control. I’m not going to apologize for that, but I hate the thought my savagery might have frightened her again.
“I did, but it’s hazy. All of it’s hazy because my vision was so messed up.”
“We think he gave you GHB. That’s one of the known side effects.”
“Is he really dead?” Her eyes examine mine.
“He is. We couldn’t let him live. I couldn’t let him live.”
“Good,” she whispers, and my heart hurts when tears pool in her eyes again. “He … he was going to rape me. He … he touched me.” Sobs burst from her chest, and we move toward one another at the same time. My arms open in invitation, and she falls into me.
“I’m so sorry, Nessa.” I hate I had to listen while that was happening, but the plan worked. We got the bastard, and he’s not here to hurt her ever again.
“Don’t say that,” she says in between sobs. She lifts her head, pinning me with glassy eyes. “You saved me from a fate worse than death. He was going to make me do hideous things.” A violent shudder wracks her slim frame.
“I know, babe.” I press a kiss to her head, thinking of all the things that bastard said. Several revelations were made, and I want to ask Nessa about a few things but not now. She’s too fragile, and she needs to sleep and heal.
“Thank you, Jackson. I don’t know how you were there, or why, but you saved me. You saved Kayleigh.”
My eyes burn with fierce determination. “I will always save you, Nessa. No one will ever hurt you again, and that includes me.” Gently, I cup her gorgeous face. “I’ll explain it all later after you have rested. I will tell you everything, but there is one thing I need you to know now.”
My heart swells in my chest, and a rush of butterflies swoops into my stomach. I hope she can’t tell how nervous I am. I’m not sure if she heard me earlier, and I need to ensure she knows this. “I love you. I have for months now. I was too afraid to admit it to myself, let alone to you, but I can’t hold it inside anymore.”
Tears cascade over the gentle slopes of her cheeks, and I hate that I’ve hurt her. I want to punt kick myself in the head for being such an ass. It’s obvious from the conversation on the boat that Nessa wasn’t aware of what Christian had planned. That she’s an innocent in all this.
“I know I have fucked up so bad, and I’m sorry for every cruel word and action. I was a prick, and I’m so unworthy of you, I know that.” I brush her tears away, kissing her flushed cheeks. “I wish I had a do-over so I could do it right this time, but I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me. I want to prove I mean what I say.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I press a finger to her lips. “I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to hear the truth in my words, to hold them close, and to think about it. To think about a future for us.” I kiss her forehead, my lips lingering there for a few beats as I savor the feel of her in my arms and the taste of her skin against my mouth. I ease back, releasing her. “There’s a small bathroom through there.” I point at the door at the side of the bedroom before leaning back and grabbing the pile of clothes I removed from my bag earlier for her. “Sweats and a shirt. I know it’s not ideal but—”
“Thanks. They are clean and not this bathing suit.” She offers me a shaky smile as I place them on the bed beside her.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get you some toast and a drink.” Something hydrating that isn’t water. I glance at my watch. “We should be landing in London soon.”
“London?” she croaks.
“We’ll be staying the night at my parents’ home in London. I hope that’s okay.”
Panic races across her face, and I take her hands in mine. “It’ll be fine. They have an idea of what went down. They’ll just be relieved to know we’re all unhurt.” I want to tell her to trust me, but I know I’ve a lot to do before we’re in that space. “And we’ll be flying back to the US tomorrow.”
“Don’t leave me,” she whispers, gripping my hand close. “Please.”
“Nessa.” I peer deep into her eyes. “I’m going nowhere. I’m never leaving you again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Jackson
“MY BABY!” MOM rushes out the door of our eight-bedroom detached Kensington home, flinging herself into my arms.
“Hey, Mom.” I bundle her lithe, dancer-slash-model’s figure into a bear hug. “It’s good to see you.”
She grabs my cheeks, peppering me with kisses.
I think she missed me.
She holds me at arm’s length, her troubled gaze roaming me from head to toe. “Are you okay?” She inspects the lump at my temple that’s already bruising before lifting my busted knuckles to her face, muttering in Czech under her breath as she inspects my torn, bloodied skin.
“Mom, I’m fine,” I say as Anderson and Hunt climb out of the car.
While Mom’s diverted welcoming them with boisterous hugs and kisses on the cheek, I lean back into the car, holding out my arms to the vulnerable, scared girl cowering on the back seat. “I told you I’d look after you, and I won’t leave your side. I promise.” Cautiously, she scoots along the seat, taking my hand. The second her soft flesh meets mine, warmth treks up my arm, spreading throughout my body, soothing me all over. I help her out of the car, circling my arm around her shoulder.
“Vanessa!” Mom approaches. “How wonderful to see you after all this time although I wish the circumstances were more pleasant.” She examines Nessa from head to toe, like she did with me. “Jackson. Don’t be rude.” She swats at my arm. “I need my hug.”
“Mom.” My tone warns her to back off, but Mom is not one to be told no. She comes from a large family in Prague, and they are super close and super touchy-feely.
“It’s okay.” Nessa’s voice is quiet as she shucks out of my arms. She’s visibly trembling, but it doesn’t deter Mom.
She wraps Nessa up in her arms like she’s cotton wool, holding her tenderly and dotting kisses into her hair. “Můj drahý. It’s going to be okay.”
Dad can’t know exactly what went down, but he knows the type of man Montgomery was and that Nessa needed medical care, so he knows she’s traumatized. He’s clearly prepped Mom so she’s aware to be extra careful around Vanessa.
Tears glisten in Nessa’s eyes, and I can’t take it any longer. “Mom.” My gaze dances between Mom and Nessa.
Mom’s
eyes light up as she scrutinizes the expression on my face. “Miluješ ji.”
I only ever picked up a few of her Czech sayings, but I’m pretty sure that means you love her. “Yes. Now hand her back.” I open my arms, and she releases Nessa with a squeal. I place protective arms around Nessa. “Sorry. She’s probably going to fuss over you like crazy,” I whisper.
“I’m so happy my boy is in love. This is wonderful.” Mom claps her hands.
Behind me, Anderson cough-laughs, and I just know Hunt has the smarmiest grin on his face. They love to see me suffer.
Pricks.
Thank fuck, we’re only staying one night. Don’t get me wrong. I adore my mother, but Nessa and I have a lot of shit to work through, and Mom is likely to put her foot in it before I’ve had a chance to fix things.
“Come in, come in, and I’ll show you to your rooms.” Mom flaps her hands about, ushering us inside.
We follow her into the high-ceilinged entrance hall, and Nessa smiles up at me as she glances around. Mom has a real flair for interior décor, and she’s decorated the UK house in a combination of modern and traditional styles, paying homage to the existing Victorian architecture.
“I kept dinner for you all, and you can eat after you freshen up,” she says, as we follow her up the sweeping staircase to the second level where the guest bedrooms are. “Boys, you can take these rooms.” She points to two rooms on the left. “I assume Vanessa will be sleeping with you, Jackson, so I put her things in your room.”
Vanessa’s eyes pop wide while Anderson coughs again to disguise his laughter.
“Thank you, Laurena,” Hunt says, ever the suck-up.
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