Stolen [4] Stolen Chances

by Elisabeth Naughton

“I’m not sure how he conned her into helping him,” Drummer said. “But my guess is she was young and naïve, and he convinced her you were all out to screw him. And if she didn’t do what he wanted, he probably made it clear he could make her life a living hell.”

  “He’s not getting away with it anymore.” The ice in Thad’s voice made Maren look up. His hand clenched into a fist at his side. “This ends now.”

  Nate nodded. “He trusts me. I’ve been waiting a long time for payback. I know that boat like the back of my hand. If Isabel’s there, I know where he’s got her.”

  A vein pulsed near Thad’s temple. “We go in, get Isabel, and get her out. Then the son of a bitch is mine. He’s about to find out what hell is really like.”

  Maren’s stomach clenched at the hatred she saw in Thad’s eyes, at the determination and vengeance in his voice. This suddenly wasn’t the man she knew and loved. The change was so abrupt, so powerful, it left her reeling. And her heart clenched. Not with fear, but with gut-wrenching regret.

  She drew in a sharp breath, swallowed, and stood. She needed air. Needed a moment to find her balance. Running a hand over her face, she glanced around the room. “I’ll be right back.”

  The sun was setting low over the water when she stepped off Patrick’s porch and onto the dirt road running through camp. Palm trees swayed above. Seagulls cried in the distance. A balmy breeze blew her hair away from her face, but it did little to warm the chill that had settled in her veins at the memory of a voice too much like Thad’s.

  On a long breath, she pressed shaking fingers against her aching temples and started toward the beach.

  “Maren, hold on.” Thad’s hand on her arm stopped her.

  When she turned, his eyes were no longer on fire, but she could still see the smoldering flames, the resolve. And beneath that the hint of gentleness, of the man she recognized.

  That was the one she wanted for the rest of her life.

  “I love you.” The words spilled out before she even had time to think them through. “I do,” she said before he could respond. “I didn’t realize how much until just now. I can’t fight it anymore, Thad. I don’t want to. I just want you. I want us. I want Isabel to know you and for us to be a family like we should have been a long time ago.”

  His eyes went all soft and dreamy, and the love she saw reflected there made her insides melt. And right then, she knew. This was the real deal. And whatever happened from here on out could never taint what she felt for him.

  “Oh, Blondie.” He took a step closer and reached for her. “I want that too. You have no idea how much.”

  “No.” She held up a hand to block him before he could kiss her and make her forget what she’d seen in that cabin. “You don’t get it.”

  Hands settling on her arms, he hesitated and looked into her eyes. Her heart thumped against her ribs, but she lifted her chin, knowing this was as important as the love coursing through her. “I want that future with the man who just told everyone in there how much he loves me. Not the one with the vendetta against Declan.”

  His brow dropped. “I think I missed something.”

  “Please let this go.” Feeling the beat of his heart beneath her palm, she tried to steady her quaking voice. “Once we have Isabel back, and now that I know I have you on my side, we can figure out a way to keep him away. He won’t be able to hurt us anymore, not unless we let him. Please, Thad. Just let it go. Let him go.”

  “I had to have heard you wrong.” He dropped his arms as if her skin had burned him and took a step back. Betrayal flashed in his eyes, and the hurt she saw there clawed at her heart in a way that left her feeling hollow. “Are you asking me to let the bastard live after what he’s done? Did I hear you right?”

  She took a step toward him, desperate to bridge the gap he was building. “No one has more reason to hate the man than I do. But that kind of emotion is overpowering. It consumes you. I know because I’ve been there. It’s the same passion that rules Declan. Everything he’s done, he thinks he’s done out of necessity. The same way you and I believe in the actions we took that got us to this point. It doesn’t make it right.”

  “Are you comparing me to Declan?” Disbelief raced across his features. He rested his hands on his hips, the lines around his eyes creasing deeply as he stared at her as if he’d never seen her before.

  “No. God, no.” Her chest tightened. She lifted her hands, dropped them. “There’s no comparison between you. You have goodness and strength and gentleness in you, and he has none of that. He’s only focused on one thing. But I’m telling you, if you do this, if you go after him with this twisted sense of vengeance, then he wins. Even if you kill him, he still wins. Because the same hatred that rules him will have gotten to you.”

  “No,” he said with sheer disgust. “Once I kill the bastard, I win. Then it’ll finally be over for good.”

  She blinked back tears. She was on the verge of losing him, not because there wasn’t enough love between them, but because of a hatred she’d spent years trying to overcome.

  “It’ll never be over. Don’t you see? That hatred will always hang over us. It will always be there, a constant reminder of him. I can’t start our lives like that. Hate nearly destroyed me once. I won’t let it again. The only way we’ll ever be free is to walk away.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

  “No.” She swallowed. “I would never tell you what to do. You have to make your own choices based on what you feel is right.”

  “But you’re saying if I go after him, you’ll walk.”

  “I’m saying,” she said calmly, “that I love you. More than I ever did before. More than I ever thought I could. And I would do just about anything for you, but not this.”

  She heard the hitch in her voice, knew she was about to break. His eyes were once again hard, but this wasn’t something she could back down from. Not if she wanted to make sure she never wound up like Doña Marina. Not even for him.

  “I’m saying,” she went on, even though her heart was breaking, “if you do this, then you have to do it on your own. Because I can’t be a part of it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The air was still. Too still. Like the calm before the storm, no breeze blew across the water. The palms lay silent in the late hours of dusk. Even the birds in paradise were silent.

  Standing on the pier, waiting with clenched jaw, Maren crossed her arms over her chest and said every prayer she knew. If this didn’t work, if something went wrong...

  She closed her eyes and tried to think optimistically. All the planning in the world couldn’t change what was about to happen. At this point, she had to put her faith in Drummer, Lisa and Rafe, her father...and Thad.

  Her heart clenched at the memory of Thad’s grim face when she’d left camp. Turmoil had hardened his features, had made his voice gruff. He’d kissed her good-bye, and she’d seen the fear lurking in his eyes, but she hadn’t been able to read his thoughts, and he hadn’t volunteered them. She had no idea what he planned to do once they found Isabel, or where they even stood when all of this was over.

  “There’s the tender.” Drummer’s voice cut through her reverie, and she looked where he pointed across the water.

  Stomach rolling, she picked up the backpack at her feet. When the boat slowed to dock at the pier, she took a steadying breath, slung the strap over her shoulder, and willed her feet forward.

  Nate’s guess had been right. The Marina was moored roughly three miles off the northern shore of Belize. Adrenaline pumped through Maren as she stepped out of the tender and climbed the ladder to the deck of the glistening white yacht. The last traces of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon as a servant led them into the main salon.

  Seated on a plush couch studying a file, Evan glanced up.

  Maren gritted her teeth. Her first instinct was to lash out, to rake her fingernails down the soft flesh of his cheek, to make him bleed and hurt the way she had bled. Bu
t she knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere. And it wouldn’t get her what she wanted.

  “How nice of you to join me.” Evan tossed his folder onto the coffee table in front of him, then stood and stepped forward.

  For a moment, it was as if she and Evan were the only two in the room. His gaze never left her face.

  The son of a bitch was gloating over her being here.

  “Relax, Maren,” he said with an icy warning. “The situation is only as bad as you make it.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m here. Again. You made your point just like you wanted.”

  “Always so dramatic.” He glanced at Nate behind her. “Wouldn’t you agree, Drummer?”

  When Drummer didn’t respond, he stepped past her toward the bar. “So, tell me. How goes the excavation, love?”

  Maren turned, her gaze following him. “Where’s Isabel, Evan?”

  He added ice to three glasses. Silence stretched across the room while he poured scotch into each tumbler. He handed her a glass, took a slow sip of his own, and let his gaze settle on hers. “Resting.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “I don’t think so. Why don’t you tell me about the excavation first. We’ll deal with Isabel later.”

  “No,” Maren said calmly, “we’ll deal with her now, or you won’t learn anything about the excavation.”

  Evan was quiet for a moment; then he said, “How about a compromise? Drummer can go check on her and report back here on her well-being, while you and I have ourselves a little chat.”

  Maren set her glass on a nearby table, untouched. “Why should I trust him now that I know he’s working for you?”

  One side of Evan’s lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk. “No one could ever accuse you of not being cautious.” His smile faded. “How about because it’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

  She watched him through steely eyes for a few moments; then she turned toward Nate.

  Drummer’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze shifted from her to Evan. “Where is she?”

  “Downstairs.”

  His gaze shot to Maren. “I’ll be back.”

  Maren watched as Nate disappeared down the steps, a mixture of relief and fear rushing through her veins.

  When she turned, she met Evan’s sinuous smile. “I’ve been waiting for you, darling. You have no idea how long three days is for a man.”

  She refused to step away from him. Wouldn’t let him see her fear. “You didn’t miss me. You just want to humiliate me into doing your dirty work. There’s a reason why you have to rely on me and my father to find La Malinche for you, Evan. She’s not your birthright.”

  Rage flashed in his eyes. She knew that look, had seen it just before he’d hit her, and she lifted her chin, bracing for his temper. She knew she was antagonizing him, but she couldn’t help it. Just when she expected him to lash out, his eyes narrowed and the flash was replaced by amusement that raced across his features. “Why work my fingers to the bone when I know you and your pathetic father will do it for me?”

  “And controlling others is always more enjoyable,” she added with disdain.

  He smiled. “You know me so well, darling.”

  She watched as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip. “Like those divers you sent into that cenote nine years ago. Did you tell them to kill Colin, or was that just a plus for you?”

  His smile widened, a wicked and evil grin that sent revulsion all through her stomach. “Let’s just say that was a happy by-product of the situation. Come now, Maren, you know I use whatever means are at my disposal to obtain what I’m after. You’d have done the same. And if that means eliminating those who get in my way, so be it. It wasn’t planned, if that’s what you’re asking. The poor boy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  His eyes narrowed. “If you want to blame someone, blame your father. If he’d kept to his pathetic schedule, the whole incident would never have happened. As it was, I couldn’t let it pass once the man recognized me. Truth be told, I would have been much happier to have seen your boyfriend or even the elder Hudson fall to the same fate, but we can’t always choose the outcome of such rendezvous, can we?”

  It wasn’t fury that flashed inside her, but pity. Pity for a man who would never know the healing strength of love. “How can you hate so much without it ripping you apart?”

  He laughed. “You’re so naïve. It’s not hate, darling. It’s power.”

  “She won’t save you, you know,” she said softly. “She won’t make you into something you’re not. Power comes from within, true power, not the sort you wield with an iron fist. People cower to you out of fear, not because they respect you. True power radiates from love, not hatred. And love is something you’ve never had, something you’ll never understand.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Always so high and mighty. Even when you’re caught, the fly in the spider’s web, you still taunt me.” He shook his head, his gaze sharpening. “Do you think I give a rip about love?” He laughed. “Do you think I care about your theories, Dr. Hudson? I don’t.”

  He stepped toward her, and rage flashed in his eyes. “La Malinche is mine, just as you are mine. Five hundred years has finally brought me the two things I was always meant to have. Do you think this is all a coincidence? You and me here in this time and place? You talk about true power. True power is history. It’s fate and destiny, and it’s finally about to converge.”

  He stepped even closer, his breath but an inch from her face. “Show me what you brought me, Dr. Hudson.”

  “First I need to know Isabel is safe.”

  He stared at her. Didn’t answer. Then he swooped her bag from the floor and yanked it open.

  “La Malinche,” he murmured, drawing the statue out of its nest. Awe filled his voice and widened his eyes.

  And every muscle in Maren’s body went sharp and rigid when she realized he was a man possessed.

  Thad dropped his scuba gear on the swim platform of the Marina and withdrew what he needed from the waterproof bag. Boat lights twinkled across the water, a stark reminder Declan’s yacht wasn’t the only one in the vicinity. None of the other boats were close enough to see him peering up the ladder, though, and the nearest was at least a mile away. That, at least, was one thing to be thankful for.

  A cool chill slid down his back as he checked his watch. By now Drummer had to have found the engine room. If, that was, he’d been able to get away from Declan like they’d hoped.

  The second hand on his dive watch inched by as he added another full minute to his schedule. Another full minute Maren would be alone with the son of a bitch. He swallowed the sickness sliding up his throat and refocused on the plan. He had to give Drummer time. If the guy was late getting to the security system, then Thad would be in hot water if he went barging in. No question Declan had an armed bodyguard; probably several security personnel around as well. Slipping in under the radar was key.

  When the second hand hit the twelve position, he dropped his arm and reached for the ladder. His shoes squeaked on the metal rungs, and twice he stopped, listening for any motion above. Nothing moved. Even the air seemed dead.

  He pulled himself up and over the side, checked both directions, and crossed the deck. When he reached the door to the companionway, he took a deep breath. “Come on, Drummer.”

  The door slid open without a hitch. No alarms rang. No footsteps echoed, indicating no one had been alerted to his presence.

  Heart thundering, he slipped down the steps to the accommodations deck and ran through the boat schematics in his head for the thousandth time. When he reached the aft cabin, he paused around the corner from the room Drummer was sure Isabel would be held in.

  Just like Drummer had predicted, there was one armed guard in the hall outside her door. Thad’s heart pumped while he waited for the guard to pace his direction, pivot not a foot from him, then turn back the other direction.

  As soon as the guard swiveled, Thad
hit him with the crowbar he’d brought along. The guard grunted and slammed into the wall. Then the weapon fell from his grip, and he dropped to the ground with a thud.

  Quietly, Thad shoved the guard’s weapon in the pocket of his wet suit, then looked around for an empty room. The best he could find was a storage closet. Perspiration gathering under his wet suit, he dragged the guard inside then barred the door with a broom handle from the outside. Then he drew a deep breath, checked right and left to see if anyone had heard the commotion, and when no sound echoed through the corridor, turned for Isabel’s room.

  The door opened and snapped shut. A shadow near the window shifted. “Who are you?” a wary child’s voice asked.

  Words clogged in Thad’s throat. He stepped into the dimly lit room. “A friend of your mom’s.”

  Isabel jumped off the desk she’d been perched on, trying to look out the small porthole window. Her eyes widened, then narrowed.

  And Thad’s chest felt like it might crack wide open. Dark hair and eyes, just like his, Maren’s nose and chin, his olive coloring. He’d expected to be moved when he saw her, but he hadn’t planned on his knees going weak or all the air being sucked out of his lungs. And he hadn’t expected to feel an utter completion whip through him like a hurricane.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked when he could finally speak.

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?”

  “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “No.” She shook her head, still staring at him with obvious caution. “My mom—”

  “She’s fine,” he said quickly, not wanting to think about what was happening above. Not wanting to give Isabel any reason to worry. “She sent me to get you.”

  When she didn’t move forward, didn’t respond, nervous fingers raced down his spine. “Look, Isabel. We don’t have a lot of time here. I need you to trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The floor creaked above, and he looked up, pausing to listen. Thoughts of Maren rushed through his mind, but he pushed them aside. Right now he had to focus on getting Isabel out of here and trust that everything upstairs went as planned. Breathing deeply, he looked back at his daughter.