Did it matter? Could I sacrifice who I was to delve into who he’d become? I should be looking for a way out before his real reason emerged.
A flash of heat rolled through me. Sweat broke out along the hairline of my neck and washed down over me like hot wax. I caught my salt-encrusted, tangled hair up in my fist and winced as it pulled against the tenderness of my scalp.
My dress was ripped up the hem on one side and scratchy against my skin. Sand was jammed under my nails and chafing in all sorts of uncomfortable places I hadn’t noticed until that was all that was left to think about.
A hot shower and a change of clothes would be about the only thing I had control over for the moment. And that was only if there were clothes for me to change into. Trent might have stocked the house with food, but for some reason, I couldn’t imagine him shopping for clothes for me.
It took forever to get the sand out of my hair, and then to get the knots out. The shower, however, had rejuvenated me, making me feel a little more human instead of a crusty relic hauled up from the ocean floor. The small gash on my head had me seeing double when I accidentally raked my fingernails over the egg-shaped bump I sported, and I had to hang on to the countertop until my vision cleared. There wasn’t anything I could do about it except clean it up and let it heal.
The bedroom Trent said was mine was done up with bright colors. Oranges and reds with splashes of green, and comically enough, the comforter on the bed was a very large Toucan. What surprised me most was the clothes I found hanging in the closet and stacked neatly in a chest of drawers.
All the essentials were there, plus an array of nightgowns. There were a few pairs of sandals and flip-flops. There was even a swimsuit, which meant there had to be a pool. He’d given me everything to cover myself up with, but not a single T-shirt or pair of shorts. No boots, or socks.
A conversation we’d had in the past came back to me. It was the only time we’d talked of anything other than the next job. And it had surprised me, that particular conversation, because it was Trent who’d come up with the plan of leaving Cole Enterprise to start a new life for us. I’d been giddy with excitement, telling him that once we left, I’d have a closet full of dresses and never look at a pair of jeans again. That I’d give up my combat boots for shoes that showed off my toes. He’d listened to me babble on and on before shutting me up by rolling me over onto my stomach and grabbing a fist full of my hair as he pushed my knees apart with one of his own.
My feelings scattered, pinging off one another until I was forced to sit down and collect myself. I’d never felt so out of control in all my life. On one hand, he’d remembered, but on the other, he’d turned into a monster. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d killed the pilot of the plane, possibly Josh as well, and then plunked me down inside the hideaway he’d planned for us, and gave me the wardrobe I’d spoken of only the once. What did that mean?
And worse? No one would find me. I knew that deep down. If Trent had kept himself off the grid for as long as he had, there was no chance that would change.
And Josh? Was he alive? He had to be. I refused to believe anything else, but I’d never know for sure unless I escaped. And if I managed to escape, what were the chances Trent would find me and imprison me again?
I slapped my hand against my towel-covered thigh and pushed everything away. Trent. Josh. Everything.
First, I needed to figure out where I was. Once I knew that, I could plan how to get away and back to Chicago. I had to get one step ahead of my capturer, and the only way to do that was to keep my wits about me. Play his game if need be. I wasn’t going to allow myself to fall to pieces. And I damn sure wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life stuck in a tropical cage.
I dressed and left my designated room with purpose as Oliver’s voice, nagging as it was, rang in my ears. “Get the layout. Know everything you can about where you are and build a mental picture. Know strengths and weaknesses. Gather what you can about your surroundings. Listen. Watch. And then make a plan. There’s no place on this earth I can’t find you if you can give me a full picture. Understand?”
That had been years ago, but I could remember it as if it were yesterday.
I’d been in some sticky situations before, but nothing like what I was faced with. Surely, they’d prepared me enough that I could face any challenge, or at least I could only hope they had.
CHAPTER 27
JOSH
Alex paced the floor from one end of the room to the other as Eli patched me up.
Twenty-four hours had passed and we hadn’t heard anything about Ella, Allyson, or Summer.
“You got lucky,” Eli said, slathering a layer of something foul smelling on my arm before wrapping it.
“Tell me about it. He was aiming for my heart,” I answered.
Eli let go of my arm and darted a look at Alex when he passed by for what seemed like the millionth time and said, “Oliver should be back soon.”
When Oliver got a hold of the captain, the yacht was turned around and the crew had stood on deck with high-powered flashlights, shining them out across the water. I would have laughed, but nothing about it was funny. Once he felt like he’d exhausted his options, he docked and we were asked to leave. That had suited me just fine since I didn’t want the captain deciding to fire up the engine and head back to Miami before we could get off the boat.
Packing mine and Ella’s stuff up hadn’t taken long. Packing Allyson and Summer up had seemed to take forever. At one point, there was no more room left in the suitcases and half a closet worth of clothes to pack. We’d figured it out by stripping the pillowcases and stuffing those, then left the boat.
Once settled into the hotel that Alex directed the cab driver to, I’d called Oliver. The next thing I knew, Eli was pounding on our door explaining that they’d flown out minutes after I’d hung up with Oliver the night before.
Exhaustion sank deep in my bones. The need to sleep pulled at me, clouding my vision. I forced myself to stand and caught the edge of the little table in the half kitchen as the room dipped and swirled around me.
“What are you doing?” Eli snapped at me. “Sit down before you fall down.”
My ass hit the chair with a bounce.
“What’s taking him so long?” Alex asked, stopping long enough to look out the peephole of the door.
“He hasn’t been gone that long. When was the last time the two of you ate?” Eli asked.
Alex gave him a dirty look, saying, “You’ll have to excuse me, but I don’t give a damn about food right now. My wife and her sister are missing, in case that’s slipped your mind.”
Eli nodded, walked over to where the room service menu was, and then walked over to the phone. “Josh… burger?”
“Burger, chicken, the whole damn cow. I don’t care as long as it’s edible,” I answered, feeling the deep pangs of hunger twisting my stomach.
Up until Eli had asked, I would have passed it off as nerves. Maybe even fear, but there was no passing it off once I thought about it.
Eli rattled off a list of food and then hung up. “Food will be here in a little bit.”
Alex stormed up to Eli, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and shook him as he said, “I don’t want food. I want you to find my wife. Is that so hard to understand?”
I stood as Eli raised his arms, putting his hands in the air. “I’m just the doctor, or, well, almost doctor. And I really like this shirt. I’d appreciate you letting go of it.”
Alex shoved him backward. For a split second, I wanted nothing more than to punch Alex in the face for being a dick to my friend.
Eli saw me and waved me away. “Look, I understand how you feel—”
“Is your wife missing?” Alex sneered. “No, she isn’t, so there is no way you could possibly understand how I feel.”
“No, but my friend is missing. And my friends are my family. She might not be my wife, but I still care for her and worry about her,” Eli said, talking in a tone that staye
d even and smooth.
“We sit here doing nothing while God knows what is happening to them! Do you know how many threats her father gets?” Alex asked, jaw clenching.
He was a man on the verge of losing his shit and all I could do was watch because I didn’t have it in me to pacify him when I was barely keeping my own composure.
“Trust me, you might not be able to see anything happening, but I assure you people are working on it. We can’t just storm around the island blindly searching,” I told him.
“Why not?” he demanded. “Why haven’t we talked to the local police? Held a press conference? Why hasn’t Garett issued a statement offering a reward? He has enough money. People will do just about anything for money,” Alex argued as he began to unravel.
“The best people in the world are doing everything they can to figure out who has her. Bringing in local police would only create more red tape that we don’t have the time to cut through. We will find them, Alex,” I answered.
“Find them…” He snorted. “There should have been a call made. Something. Why hasn’t someone contacted Garett to brag that they had his daughter? Why hasn’t there been any demands?” Alex asked as his fist shot out and hit the wall with a sickening crack.
He bent at the waist, making a keening sort of noise as his knees hit the floor.
Eli sighed. “Well, that sounded like you broke a finger or two. Have a seat and I’ll get you something for the pain.”
“I don’t want something for the pain. I want my wife back.”
Eli pushed Alex down into the empty seat across from me and said, “Have it your way then.”
“The first rule of being a hero,” Eli said, popping a fry into his mouth and chewing it before continuing, “is don’t break any bones.”
Alex grumbled past a bite of his own burger, chewing with a single mindedness as he cradled his splinted hand against his chest.
I’d been so hungry that midway through my burger I was already full.
Oliver had returned only moments before, looking tired and ready to bite the ass of the world. He’d pulled me aside briefly to tell me that our orders were to remain where we were until all means of travel had been exhausted. There were a lot of ways someone could disappear. Aliases would be crossed checked and CCT footage would be run for facial recognition. Unfortunately, all of that took time, but it beat wandering around with no real starting point. Had they been taken on shore, it would have narrowed it down, but not by much. Losing them over the side of the boat? That put the search world wide—and it was a big ass world.
“And the second rule?” Alex asked.
“Don’t die,” Oliver said, walking over and pulling the edge of the curtain back, staring into the waning sunlight. His hand twitched against the curtain, giving away his impatience. “You said Garett’s ex-stepdaughter had a verbal confrontation with Allyson and Summer, right?” he asked, adding, “What was the argument about?”
“Her non-existent trust fund,” Alex answered with a snort.
Oliver looked over his shoulder at him and asked, “And why is it non-existent?”
Alex sighed. “Family drama never really held much appeal for me. I stay clear of it, but in this case, Victoria, Summer and Allyson’s ex-stepsister by marriage, has been an absolute pain in the ass for the last year. Makes it hard to ignore someone who walks around with book-end Barbie Doll bodyguards.”
“They didn’t look like any sort of bodyguard I’ve ever laid eyes on,” I said, recalling the two girls who’d loomed behind Victoria. “They looked more like her little followers.”
Alex snorted. “Don’t let their looks fool you. Both have trained in some kind of martial arts, or so Victoria says. Then again, you never know if she’s telling the truth or lying when she speaks.”
“Do you know who they are?” Oliver asked.
Alex shook his head. “She’s never introduced them, and we never cared to ask.”
Oliver brought the phone up, typing a quick message as he said, “Let’s get back to the non-existent trust fund. Why would she think she had one?”
Alex’s eyes blinked slowly before he answered, “She would have if Garett and her mother had stayed married. From what I understand, Garett put a clause in the contract that stated if they were to divorce before Victoria reached the age of twenty-five, the trust fund would be revoked and Victoria wouldn’t see a dime of it.”
“When did they divorce?” Oliver asked.
“It was finalized two days before her twenty-fifth birthday.” Alex moved slowly to his feet. “She was two days away from being a millionaire. People don’t take it too kindly when they see that kind of money slipping from their fingers before they can even touch it. I have to lay down, or I’m going to be sick.” He stumbled to the bed and was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“The cameras you put up… can you go through the footage and look for those two girls?” Oliver asked me.
I eyed the bed, wishing I could lay down and rest. Even if it were for just a few hours.
Ella wouldn’t rest, I reminded myself.
Two hours later, Oliver had their faces loaded into the database. Five minutes after that, I put my head on the table and fell asleep.
CHAPTER 28
ELLA
“Kidnappers… real kidnappers aren’t just going to leave the address of your location laying around. There won’t be any mail. There won’t be any newspapers. Nothing… understand?” Oliver had said in one of the many one-on-one training sessions I’d had with him.
“So how the hell do you figure out where you are?” I’d asked.
“You tell me,” he’d answered, sitting back as he waited for me to work it out.
I huffed. “I have no idea. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“Think about it, Ella. Walk yourself through a kidnapping scenario. Say you have access to more than one room. What other room would you be given permission to enter?”
His words rolled over me, keeping me focused. I’d been so frustrated with him that day, wishing he’d just tell me so the exercise was over. He hadn’t though. He’d forced me to think. To put myself there and look around the imaginary room of my imaginary kidnapper.
“What’s the most important thing to remember if you’re taken?” he’d asked.
“To keep my wits about me. I know, you’ve told me a million times, but that doesn’t help me if there’s no point of reference to where I’m being held.”
“Close your eyes. Now, walk into the bathroom. What do you see?”
I opened the bathroom door, remembering, with clarity, everything Oliver had taught me that day. Hoping Trent had slipped up somewhere.
It was tidy with the basics stored under the cabinet. Each unwrapped, rebottled, and stacked neatly. Damn.
I backed out into the hallway and moved down the hall, checking each door I came to and finding them all locked. The house seemed to go in a circle. A circle I hadn’t been all the way around.
Several more locked doors later, and I finally hit one that swung open on silent hinges. I’d found the pool and what appeared to be the center of the circle.
It was one of those kinds of pools that looked like a natural spring. Flowers swept from the side of a grotto as water flowed down the front of it like a miniature waterfall. The room had been made to look like a jungle paradise. There were banana trees and bird of paradise plants. Orchids of every shade hung from pots, and grew up the sides of towering palm trees. The ceiling above was domed glass to allow the natural sunlight in and it had to have been well over twenty feet high.
The only thing missing were the natural sounds heard in the depths of any jungle. The hum and whine of insects. The sound of wings rustling, as brightly hued birds perched in trees calling out to one another.
I wandered around the pool, looking for another door, but didn’t find one.
There was only a single entrance leading in and out.
Backtracking to continue my search led me to th
e kitchen. There had to be something there. A label, a brand… something.
I’d opened every cabinet, every drawer. The fridge was left wide open from my frantic search and containers I’d shoved out of my way littered the floor. I kicked one, sending it sliding along the slick tile. “Damn it.”
“Is there a reason why you’ve wrecked the kitchen?” Trent asked.
He’d caught me off guard, causing me to almost drop the glass jar of spaghetti sauce in my hand. But what brand? The label had been removed. The metal lid a muted gold held no mark, no sell by date… nothing.
“You aren’t the only one Oliver taught,” Trent mocked.
The glass jar sailed through the air, straight for his head. He ducked at the last second, and the jar crashed into the wall. It made a weird popping noise and the contents hit with a splat. Chunks of tomatoes slid down the wall.
That felt good. So good that I grabbed another jar, by touch, and brought my arm back and let it fly. Trent dodged that one as well as he moved toward me.
I grabbed another one, but it slipped from my hands when Trent rushed me. It shattered right next to my bare foot. Liquid pooled around my toes, splashing up my legs.
“Idiot,” Trent said, grabbing me.
I jerked away and lost my footing. Glass sliced the soles of my feet, and I yelped.
“Stop moving!” he shouted at me.
“Get your hands off me!” I shrieked.
“Goddamn it, Isabella!” He shook me hard enough that my teeth rattled and my head bobbled on my neck.
Getting away from him was the only thought in my head. But he wasn’t letting me go, and the more I struggled the worse the pain in my feet became until he bear-hugged me and carried me out of the kitchen into the living room. Once there, he dropped me in the middle of the couch and said, “Don’t move.”
I stood, wishing I hadn’t. I bit my cheek so hard that blood welled up in my mouth. Tears rolled down my face, but I held myself in place feeling every single cut, and every single piece of glass embedded in my feet. I did it out of sheer stubbornness because I wasn’t about to take orders from him.
All We Are (The Six Series Book 5) Page 15