“Aye,” Sloan barked.
“Yep,” Robert added for him, Bartholomew and Logan.
“Proceed,” Gordon directed.
Sloan threw a powerful kick at the door, sending the piece of metal flying across the warehouse. Drawing his rifle, he charged into the building. Abbey followed on his heels. Together they weaved around the stacked crates filled with art to the clearing at the center.
Abbey’s sunk deep into her belly when her eyes fell on the two empty cages. She dropped her gun to her side. They aren’t here either.
The other three men popped into view from the other side of the cells, each muttering a string of curses. She shook her head miserably. They were taking each defeat nearly as hard as she was. The time away from their families was one thing. But not being able to find Ame, who was nearly as precious to them as their own children, was tearing them apart.
“There aren’t many rooms to check,” Robert grumbled. “Let’s go inspect them.”
Bartholomew and Logan nodded and followed Robert’s tall, hulking frame as they stormed away. Abbey turned to Sloan. She hated the look in his eyes. He looked lost, powerless. Dropping his gun to the floor, he crossed the floor to the cages and kneeled down, reaching inside one. Abbey followed him.
“Is there another photo?” she asked.
He picked up the picture and studied it. “Aye.”
Abbey kneeled next to him to look at it also. A couple stood on a city street with their arms wrapped around each other. The man was obviously Sloan. It took a second take for Abbey to identify the woman. It wasn’t her. It’s Heidi.
“London,” Sloan breathed. “They’re heading for London.”
“Look how much you loved each other,” she murmured.
Sloan dug his hand in his pocket, ripping free the other photos. He held the one from Sydney under her nose. “There. We’re happy too. We don’t have time for bullshit jealousy, Abigail.”
Abbey stepped away from him fighting to keep the hurt look from her face. She couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy that hit her. Seeing him happy with another woman bothered her. But over the years she had developed a friendship with Heidi. She helped Heidi through her divorce. For Sloan to snap at her like that…
The other three men returned, their rifles at their sides. “Gone,” Robert reported. He nodded toward Sloan. “Did you find another picture?”
Sloan held it up. “Aye. They’re heading to London.”
Logan wandered around the cages, toeing the pile of canvas and wood. “Wow. Someone isn’t a fan of art.”
Bartholomew crossed the room, analyzing the wreckage. “Sloan, I think they’re yours.”
Sloan slowly stood to survey the wreckage. He stuffed the photo into his pants pocket and walked the scattered wood and canvas. He bites my head off and suddenly he’s fine? What the hell?
Sloan squatted next to the destroyed painting, shuffling the pieces into place. “Aye. This one is Sunset On Fire Two.”
Logan shook his head. “Sorry, man. It has to tear you apart to have something you worked so hard on torn apart like that.”
Sloan let go a soft chuckle. “I could care less. This was painted here in Prague. I despise everything in this city, including the art I created here. The estate of the Count and Countess that purchased it are the ones who will feel its loss. The last I knew it valued at fifteen million.”
“What now?” Bartholomew questioned.
“We’re leaving. We’ll fly to Paris to regroup. I’m done here. We need sleep or we won’t be worth shit when we do find them.”
The four men made their way to the gaping doorframe Sloan had kicked open. He stopped when he noticed Abbey still crouched next to the cage. “Luv?”
Abbey stared at the metal floor of the cell, then turned to glare at him. I made a simple comment and he lashes out at me. Now I’m “luv”? He’s got another thing coming. “On my way,” she muttered. She rose to her feet and followed them out of the warehouse.
The flight to Paris was cold and quiet. Abbey couldn’t even look at Sloan. Her heart tore apart missing Ame. Her gut churned from the words he spoke. Her nerves were blazing in rage against Sloan. When the jet landed she stormed off without saying a word to anyone.
She exhaled angrily as she stepped foot in the penthouse suite of the Sloan Enterprises complex in Paris. She glared as she inspected the living area.
“Not satisfied with the accommodations?” Sloan quipped.
“What’s wrong with the little blue hotel room?” Abbey countered.
“We own this building, Abbey. All I want is a couple of hours of sleep to recharge.” He dropped his bag on the floor. “What is it? You’ve refused to speak to me since Prague.”
“This is ridiculous. We should have caught these guys by now. They have my little girl. The clock is running out. We should be flying to London, not staying here.”
“We need rest to get our thoughts together. We have to attack from another perspective. And she’s our little girl the last time I checked.”
Abbey spun at him furiously. “You’re the reason she’s in danger. You. You and your past. If she gets hurt, it’s on you!”
Sloan stared at her dumbfounded for several long seconds. Suddenly his chiseled features turned hard as stone. “If that’s how you feel, Abigail.” He spun on his heel and stomped to the door, slamming it behind him. Abbey stared at it as the tears welled in her eyes. First she lost her daughter. Now did she lose her husband?
She stopped as she heard her phone vibrate. Glancing at the text, she picked up the cell and threw it across the room. She dropped onto the sofa as her world fell down around her.
»»•««
The whiskey burned as it slid down Sloan’s throat. The sensation brought comfort. He slammed the shot glass down on the oak stained bar then motioned to the bartender for another.
Words swirled around his head. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make them go away. He could hear both Liam and Gordon forbid him from having a family. It was dangerous. They would be used for collateral. He could hear Abbey accuse him of this whole mess.
She didn’t need to. The moment he realized Ame was gone he blamed himself. He had every second since. “You were right, lads,” he mumbled to himself. “Getting married, falling in love. Huge mistake.”
“How many have you had?” a deep voice from behind chastised. Robert slumped onto the barstool beside him.
“Five,” Sloan said just before slamming another shot of whiskey. He set the glass in his hand on the bar beside the others. “That’s six.”
“How is getting drunk going to rescue the kids?”
“Everything else we tried failed. Why not try this?” Sloan waved to the bartender for another.
Robert stood and stopped the man. “Ginger ale.”
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Sloan demanded.
“Stopping you from making a huge mistake,” Robert answered simply. “What happened?”
Sloan exhaled slowly. “Abbey blamed me for Ame’s abduction. Gordon and Liam warned me about a family. I should have listened.”
“So you’re saying you wished you never met Abbey?”
Sloan sat in silence. “No. There is no life without her. Hearing her accuse me with such hate…” His words trailed off as he shook his head.
“We’ll find Ame, Sloan.” Robert looked at him, puzzled. “Where’s that photo you found in Prague?”
Sloan dug in his pocket and slapped it on the table. Robert picked it up to study it. “Are you sure Abbey’s not jealous? It wouldn’t be a first for her.”
Sloan took a sip of the ginger ale. “She made some comment about how in love we looked. She should know better. Yes, I cared for Heidi. But the only woman I have ever loved is her.”
“What did you say back to her?”
“I pulled out the picture we found in Sydney to show her and told her I didn’t have time for her bullshit jeal…” Sloan’s head dropped as his words trailed
off. “Shit.”
“Huh,” was all Robert could respond with.
“This little game Oliver is playing with us is driving me bloody mad. And lately Abigail has been more on edge.”
“Your daughter has been abducted. It would put anyone on edge.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“Huh.” Robert stared at the photo in his hand. “I don’t remember you and Heidi indulging in many public displays of affection.”
“We didn’t. I have no idea how the Butcher got that picture. I’m pretty sure that’s the only time we were within a hundred feet of each other in public. It was certainly the only time we were affectionate.”
“The fact the Butcher got this photo is unsettling. He’s been one step ahead of us the whole time.”
Sloan took a long, steady drink. He sat the glass down. “I’ll remedy that. Any thoughts on another plan of attack?”
“We need to cut Oliver off at the pass. We need to be at the next place they plan to go.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“We’ve determined these places are places where significant points of your life happened.”
“Explain Sydney.”
“The photo at Sydney was your true first family photo. You began your reconciliation with Abbey and Ame there. The Gauntlet is where you trained, where you stopped being the terrorist and became the mercenary. Prague is where your art career began.”
Sloan motioned the bartender to them. “I’m tired of this ginger ale. Two of your finest draft.” He sat back in his seat. “Explain London to me. Nothing significant happened to me there. The closest was my relationship with Heidi and that was hardly noteworthy.”
“Who said you had to be in London for it to be significant? What if it happened there but you weren’t?”
Sloan stared at him confused for a second. He felt his face lighten as he understood what Robert meant. “The bombing.”
“Ending your career with the IRA and forcing you to flee from your homeland? Seems significant to me. So think. Where would they go next?”
Sloan picked up the photo and gazed at it. He took the glass of beer from the bartender, nodding his thanks. A small smile fluttered across his lips as he studied the picture. Heidi made him happy. He cared for her, not as a lover but more like a friend. His love for her didn’t come remotely close to the all-consuming love he held for Abigail…
He slammed the photo on the bar. “New York City. They’re going back to the States.”
“Why?”
“You said the locations hold significant moments in my life. The most significant moment that has happened to me happened there. Abigail. I met her there, I married her there, our first intimate moment was there. Their next stop is New York City.”
“It’s more significant than Belfast? You were born in Belfast.”
“The Butcher wants us to follow. I can’t follow them into Northern Ireland without the risk of being arrested.”
“True.” Robert stared at the photo. “It’s too bad we don’t know where they are right now. We could ask Heidi to help us.”
“We could. I’ll have Abbey or myself call her,” Sloan agreed.
“Once Abbey is speaking to you again.” Robert pulled his cell from the pocket of his black cargo pants. He tapped a contact on speed dial and waited. “Hey, B. What are you doing? Bring that tablet of yours and come down to the bar. Grab Logan too. We don’t want him to pout because he’s been left out. Okay, see you soon.”
Sloan frowned as he hung up. “What’s that about?”
“I’m curious about something. I think I know where they are. Bartholomew and all his nifty software can confirm it.”
Both men took a swig of their beer while turning their attention to the soccer game on the television. They turned as Bartholomew and Logan plopped down on the stools on either side of them. Bartholomew carefully set his laptop on the bar. He grinned at Robert. “I had a feeling what you want to know will take a little more than my tablet can handle.”
“Where’s Abbey?” Logan questioned.
Sloan motioned for two more drafts. “We had a small argument.”
“Oh.”
“What did you want, Robert?” Bartholomew queried as his computer came to life.
“What is currently sitting on the location of the 1996 bombing in London?”
Bartholomew shrugged then sent his fingers flying across the keyboard. He squinted at the screen. “A row of warehouses.”
Robert grinned at Sloan. “And score one for the big man.”
“Score one? What the hell are you talking about?” Logan demanded.
“B, is there any way to see if anyone has gone into those warehouses?” Sloan questioned.
“Traffic cameras, security cameras. It’ll take me a few minutes,” Bartholomew answered.
“Look for Oliver and his goons and the kids.”
“All right.” Bartholomew went back to his computer and typed silently.
Robert crossed his arms over his broad chest. “So if I am right, how are we going to do this? They’ll know we’ll be heading to London, especially if we get Heidi and Scotland Yard involved.”
“You, Bartholomew and Logan will head to London. Abbey and I will head for New York City. Gordon and Liam can fly in as back-up,” Sloan confirmed.
“And go where? There aren’t warehouses near the penthouse.”
“I’ll figure that out when I get there. The photos you find will tell me.”
“All right. If the kids are there, I’ll call Heidi and get her and her sources on the move in London.”
“Excellent.”
“Got it!” Bartholomew cried out. He looked around uneasily at the patrons around him as they stared at him. He continued as he pushed the computer in the middle of them so they all could see. “There’s a security camera at the warehouses. This is a still from a couple of weeks ago, right after the Sloan Enterprises’s building was destroyed. That’s Oliver and his men dropping off two cages, just like the other locations.”
“What about now?” Sloan questioned.
“I’ve scanned the last week for movement. Nothing. I don’t think they’re there.”
“Excellent.” Sloan grinned. “You three will take the jet to London. I’ll arrange transportation for Abbey and me to New York. We’ll leave first thing in the morning. We need to eat and sleep before the attack. And I don’t know about you lads but the jet doesn’t cut it.”
“You at least had the bed,” Logan complained. “Try sleeping in the chair.”
Sloan chuckled. He swallowed the rest of his beer and stood, tossing cash on the bar to cover their drinks. “And now, I will go make peace with my beautiful bride. Good night, lads.”
They all wished him good night as he strode from the bar. He wove through the complex until he reached the hotel. Humming to himself, he waited as the elevator lifted him to the top floor. It was satisfying to finally outthink Oliver. All Sloan prayed for was that whatever battle transpired would be quick. All he wanted was his child and her friend back.
The penthouse was quiet and dark as Sloan stepped inside and carefully closed it behind him. The majestic lights of Paris illuminated the living area in brilliant color. Silently he breezed into the bedroom to search for Abbey.
She was already lying in bed facing the window, the comforter pulled up to her chin. He smiled gently at her. She is so bloody beautiful. He kicked his shoes off and kneeled on the foot of the bed, stretching out beside her. He gathered her in his arm, chuckling as he felt her jut her shoulder blade up to keep him away.
Sloan raised himself up and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Lass, I wish I could apologize for everything that has happened. I cannot. I am not sorry. If I had stood my ground and kept to Gordon and Liam’s command not to get involved with a woman, I wouldn’t have you. I wouldn’t have Ame or the other children. I wouldn’t have this incredible life. I’m willing to fight this. I’m not willing to let you go.”
/>
He felt Abbey shift in his arms. He kissed her again. “I wish you would have known me before I met you. I wish you knew the man before you.”
Abbey huffed. “And why’s that?”
“Because you could see what you’ve done to me. I wish you could have seen what a heartless, soulless bastard I was. I didn’t care who I hurt. All I was interested in was the quickest means of gratification, whether it was money, material possessions, or sex. No attachment.
“Then you came along and ruined it. You made me feel. You made me want more. You made me experience emotions foreign to me like insecurity, jealousy, love. Now I’m this man lying beside you and I would never go back to the way I was.”
“That’s beautiful. You’re still an asshole,” Abbey scoffed as she rolled to her back.
Sloan gazed into her hazel eyes. “I am deeply sorry, luv. I am. I had no right to say such things. I’m terrified. We need to find Ame.”
Abbey turned her gaze away and stared at the wall. Sloan frowned. “Abbey, I said I’m sorry. Why won’t you accept my apology?”
Her voice was barely audible. “It’s fine. You’re forgiven. All right?”
“What is wrong? Talk to me.”
Abbey turned back to him, gazing at him in silence. She pulled from his arms then crawled off the bed and disappeared into the living area. She returned, her cell clutched in her fist. She handed it to him then sat back down on the bed.
Sloan scanned the several text messages on the screen. Their contents turned his stomach. His felt his rage course through him like fire. “How long has Oliver been sending you these messages?”
“Since he took Ame and Dakota,” she answered, her voice trembling.
“And you never thought to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. We’ve been under so much pressure to find the kids.”
“Abbey, you never should have held these back. You should have shown me. This son of a bitch obviously has no idea who he’s dealing with.”
Abbey pulled her gaze away as she dabbed at a tear in the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry.”
Sloan reached up and tugged her to him, holding her tight to him. He felt her sob. “I stand by what I said before. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Anyone. I promise you that we will find Ame and Dakota. Then I am taking my girls home and there they will stay. Understand?”
Family Ties Page 10