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by Glenna Sinclair


  Shaw shook her head. “It was my job to keep Alison safe. It’s my job to recover her.”

  “They could help.”

  “She’ll fire me if I can’t prove that I can fix this.”

  “I doubt that. Just show her your wounds. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  “No, she won’t.” Shaw ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. “I have to find Alison before anything happens to her. That man, her husband, is a psychopath. He was arrested for attempting to send a bunch of girls to Asia to be used as sex slaves. He’s insane and there’s no telling what he’ll do to her after she filed for divorce and spent as much of his money as she possibly could while waiting for it to go through.”

  “Yet you want to go face these people alone?”

  She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. “I’m not alone. I told you, I have friends.”

  As I watched, she dialed and smiled when it someone picked up on the other end.

  “Frankel? This is Knolls.”

  I glanced at her. Knolls? I thought her name was Easton.

  She laughed, suddenly more animated than I think I’d ever seen her. There were a few jokes going back and forth before she finally got down to business.

  “I have a situation in Mexico I might need some help with. Are you available?” She listened for a second. Then she chuckled. “Okay. Meet us at the border at one. And, hey, you think you might be able to convince Andrew to come along?” Another chuckle. “Great. We’ll see you then.”

  She hung up and slipped the phone back into her pocket, glancing over at me. “See? We have two more for our little team.”

  “We’re a team now?”

  “We are. At least, until I can convince you to go back home where you’d be safe.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere as long as you’re determined to do this without informing your boss.” I glanced at her. “They could help you, Shaw. Isn’t that what the whole point is? Aren’t you supposed to be part of some sort of professional team?”

  “That’s what they say. But I screwed up and I’d rather fix it before Joss Matthews finds out about it.”

  Joss Matthews? Why did that name sound familiar to me? And then I realized where I’d seen it—in the newspapers a little over a year ago when Gray Wolf managed to take down one of the biggest criminal masterminds of our time.

  That slight little woman was Joss Matthews?

  “That petite woman went up against Jack Mahoney? Are you kidding me?”

  “Not just him. She took out the head of the Bazarov Mafia seven years ago. If you think what I did is badass, you should hear some of her stories.”

  “This is the woman you’re afraid to confide in?”

  “This is the woman I’m trying to impress. Can’t you see why it’s so important I fix this?”

  I could, in a way. But it still scared the shit out of me.

  Shaw settled back against the seat and closed her eyes. She slept for most of the three-hour drive to the Mexican border. We were early by several hours, so I pulled into the parking lot of one of those sleazy motels where you could pay by the hour. She woke as I moved the car outside the room we’d been assigned in the back.

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re early. I thought a little rest in a proper bed was in order.”

  I expected her to argue, but after glancing at the car’s digital clock she just nodded. I grabbed our bags out of the trunk and followed her to the door, cringing when it opened to reveal walls with peeling paint, stains on the carpet that was likely older than me, and a bedspread with something dark and questionable on it. Shaw didn’t seem to mind the nastiness, though. She fell onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

  “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep.”

  “You needed rest.”

  “So do you.”

  She held her hand out to me, beckoning me to the bed. I dropped our bags on the small table by the front door and kicked off my shoes before wearily crawling up onto the mattress beside her. She rolled onto her side, her body fitting perfectly against mine as we spooned together. I think I fell asleep almost immediately, the warmth of her a comfort my exhausted body couldn’t deny. When I woke, it was to the sound of her voice filled with tension.

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

  She slammed her cellphone onto the small table where I’d deposited our bags, curse words flying from her lips. I got up and drew her into my arms, but she wasn’t in the mood to be hugged. She pulled away and threw herself into a chair that looked like it might fall over if she moved the wrong way.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The border is inundated with cops and border patrol officers. Apparently, they’re searching every car that goes through, which means we won’t be able to sneak our weapons into Mexico. Can’t really rescue someone without weapons.”

  “Can’t you buy weapons there?”

  “Probably, but that takes a shitload of money I don’t have and too much time.” She sighed heavily. “If there was another way to get into the country, that would be great.” She sat up again, running her palms over the thighs of her jeans. “They must have figured out that Case Michaels is in Mexico. Joss must have realized that’s where they were taking Alison.”

  “Then maybe it’s time to call her.”

  She threw me a dirty look as she got up and began pacing again. “We could rescue Alison in a matter of hours if we had another way into the country. But there’s no other way! I need to think.”

  I watched her pace, watched the agitation burn through the muscles along her shoulders and back. I knew this was a crazy idea, knew that I should be talking her into contacting her boss or the authorities or someone else, but I also desperately wanted to be the one to rescue her and help her. I had something to prove after my failure last night.

  I went to my bag and dragged out the satellite phone I’d debated over before grabbing it out of my underwear drawer this morning. There was only one number programmed into it, the only number I could ever possibly need to call.

  She spun around when I began to speak into the phone, her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out what it was I was doing. I turned away so I wouldn’t have to see the distrust on her face.

  When I was done, I carefully stowed the phone back in the bag.

  “You’re the son of the crown prince of Saudi Arabia?”

  Her face was a mask of shock and disbelief. It probably matched mine as I realized she’d understood the words I’d spoken into the phone. Arabic. She understood Arabic. Should I have been surprised? Probably not. She was in the Marines, surrounding by dignitaries most of her career. She’d even met my father.

  Now it was my turn to throw myself down into a chair, my tongue tied as I tried to figure out how to explain what I still wasn’t sure I completely understood myself.

  “He wasn’t the crown prince when I was born.”

  “You grew up in Saudi Arabia?”

  “No. My mom and I lived there for a while when I was small, but she and my dad split when I was seven. She brought me back to the states with her.”

  She shook her head, pacing around the dirty bed and the broken down dresser. “How is that even possible? These people—their lives are very public. If one of the king’s sons had been married to an American, he would have been ostracized.”

  “My father was very careful.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “My parents met when my father came to America to attend university. It was all kept very quiet. Can you imagine what people would have thought had they known the son of the Saudi Arabian king was living in the United States? And then for it to become public that he’d fallen in love with an American woman…it would have been a scandal in both countries. He was very careful, going to incredible lengths to keep my mother and I a secret.” I dragged my fingers through my hair. “I’ve always believed that is why their marriage didn’t last. It was too muc
h of a strain on them.”

  “But he’s married! He has two daughters!”

  “Yes. He married his second cousin under pressure from his family. She is a very kind woman.”

  She continued to pace, clearly struggling to wrap her mind around this information. I watched her, a part of me convinced she would never look at me the same. I’d been in this place before, had to explain this complex part of my life to other people. Some were accepting, others not so much. I hardly knew my father, yet he was a burden I had to carry on my shoulders for the rest of my life.

  “He never expected to become the crown prince. His brother was supposed to have the position, but when he was removed…” I sighed. “It’s complicated, Shaw.”

  “And you can just call him up and order a private plane whenever you want?”

  I bit back a smile, relieved she was focusing on the mundane rather than the political. “Having a father who has spent my entire life denying me has a few advantages.”

  “Then why are you working in housekeeping at some ritzy hotel? Why aren’t you running your own place?”

  “Someday I will. But I had to start from the bottom to learn everything I could.”

  She stared at me, her lips parted slightly as the wheels spun in her head. I could see the struggle in her eyes, the temptation to take what I was offering despite the obvious obstacles. But there was something holding her back and I sort of admired her for that.

  I got up and went to her. “This is not a secret I divulge to everyone.”

  “You didn’t divulge it to me. You didn’t know I understood some Arabic.”

  I inclined my head. “But I would have told you. I am telling you. I want you to trust me.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “Did I?”

  “I told you I’d met him, told you that you reminded me of him. You laughed it off.”

  “You lied to me, too.”

  “That’s my job!”

  I brushed my thumb over her cheek. “We both have secrets we guard closely.”

  She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes focused on the center of my chest. Then she slowly looked up at me. “We’re going to have to talk more about this later. But, for right now, we need to focus on the task at hand.”

  “Call your friends. The plane will take us anywhere in Mexico you want to go.”

  She nodded and began to turn, but then she spun back around and reached up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

  “Thank you,” she breathed before she snatched up her phone and began barking orders to her friends.

  I watched, more enamored of this woman with every second that passed.

  Chapter 17

  Shaw

  I screamed when I caught sight of Jamey, launching myself into his arms and ignoring the pain on my side. He spun around, laughing too, his mouth pressed against my throat so that I could feel every vibration. I couldn’t even begin to describe what a relief it was to see him.

  “Thank you so much for coming!”

  “Anything for you, kid.” He set me down on my feet, this big grin on his handsome face. He shook his head as he took me in. “Can’t believe you chose private security.”

  “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “You could have come to work with me.” He shoved my shoulder lightly. “Private contractors make damn good money, kid.”

  “After everything we heard about them while we were over there? It’s like joining the devil’s team.”

  “Not as bad as it seems.”

  His eyes skirted over me to take in Malik behind me. I turned and held out my hand, drawing a perturbed looking man against my side.

  “Jamey Frankel, this is Malik Bailey. Malik, this is Jamey.”

  The two men looked each other over warily, clearly not impressed with one another. Jamey was protective, to say the least. We’d served in the same unit in Afghanistan for more than a year. In fact, Jamey was in the same Hummer with me that was hit by insurgents. He and I had to evacuate the vehicle with two dignitaries and keep them safe for nearly three hours on the streets of Kandahar while we waited for backup. It was an experience that changed my life and created a bond between Jamey and I. He was like a brother to me.

  He and Malik were about the same height, but Jamey had a good fifty pounds on him. He stared Malik down, his eyes narrowed.

  “How long you known this guy, Shaw?”

  I put my hand on Jamey’s chest. “Back off. He’s cool.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Jamey raked his eyes over Malik again, but he stepped back. Then he glanced around like he’d just realized we were standing in the parking lot out front of a private airstrip.

  “What’s the plan, kid?”

  “We’re flying in. The target is in a small village just outside Ensenada.”

  “You just happened to have a plane on standby?”

  “Private security is looking better, isn’t it?” I winked. “We’ll be heading out soon. We’ll do a little recon when we arrive and make a plane. Good?”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  I looked around, checking out the cars parked around us. “Where’s Andrew?”

  “On his way. He wanted to pick up a few things before we headed out.”

  “Let’s see how much trouble we can get into, then.”

  I gestured for Jamey to lead the way and then I moved to follow, but Malik grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back against his chest.

  “Are you sure we can trust this guy?”

  “There’s no one I trust more.”

  “He seems a little sketchy to me.”

  I turned in his arms and stroked his jaw with the tips of my fingers. “You could always stay here and wait for us to come back.”

  The muscles in his jaw tightened under my fingers. “I won’t do that.”

  “Then you’ll have to trust me. You do trust me, don’t you?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. It was an unfair question. This man barely knew me and yet he’d come all this way with me because he was feeling guilty for what he hadn’t done the night before. Hell, he’d probably saved my life by taking me to his mother. If I’d gone off by myself as I’d wanted to, I would have caught up with Alison’s abductors, but I wouldn’t have been in any shape to fight them. It would have been completely one sided. I was grateful to him, but I was also asking a lot of him and I knew it.

  “You have to believe that I know what I’m doing. And Jamey…he saved my life a few years back and I saved his. I trust him.”

  Malik inclined his head slightly. “Okay.”

  The plane was waiting for us on the tarmac. Jamey was speaking to the pilot as we walked up, tension in every line of his face. He turned and glared at Malik before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from him.

  “What the hell, Shaw? You’ve taken up with some terrorist?”

  “Jamey—”

  “This captain is telling me how he flies for a corporation owned by the Saudi royal family! Who the hell are you working for?”

  “It’s not what you think!”

  “It’s my family,” Malik said, forcing himself between me and Jamey. “You have a problem with me trying to help out?”

  “You’re a fucking Muslim terrorist!”

  “For your information, I’m an American. My mother is American and I was born in California. And I’m actually a Christian, not that that has anything to do with this. The fact that this plane is owned by my father’s family—”

  “Your father? Who the fuck are you?”

  “Cut it out, Jamey,” a calming voice said from behind us. “Does it matter? This is Shaw we’re talking about.”

  Malik and Jamey were nearly chest-to-chest, the testosterone almost seeping from their pores. But at the sound of his lover’s voice, Jamey flinched.

  His eyes moved from Malik to Andrew as he approached us across the airfield, bags in each of his hands. He was a tall red head who
tended to burn in direct sunlight. He was wearing dark clothing—jeans and a hoodie—looking like some teenager up to no good. And the look in his eyes was dangerous, if tampered by caution. But just the sight of him was enough to still the fury in Jamey.

  “You better watch yourself, asshole,” Jamey said, slamming his shoulder into Malik’s as he pushed past him to greet Andrew. I watched as they fell into each other’s arms, a warm embrace followed by a tender kiss that was enough to melt anyone’s heart.

  I took hold of Malik’s arm and looked up at him. “Please, don’t get into it with Jamey. It won’t end well.”

  “He started it.”

  I tilted my head, suddenly feeling as though I’d been thrust into the role of some schoolmarm or something. I glared at him and his eyes immediately softened, the fire of his anger dampened.

  “Okay,” he said softly. “But keep him away from me.”

  That was going to be easier said than done. But I nodded just the same. I needed this day to end on a high note and the only way we were going to get there was to keep the right people from killing the wrong people.

  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  I pushed Malik toward the plane, ushering Jamey in the same direction. Andrew grabbed my hand and pulled me into a warm embrace, kissing my cheek before he pulled away.

  “I see you’ve got a new guy in your life.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Isn’t it always, sweetheart?”

  He winked before dropping to get his bags. I followed him up the steps to the plane, slightly amused to see Malik sitting at the front of the plane and Jamey at the back. What obedient little boys!

  I sat beside Malik and closed my eyes, remembering at the last minute how much I disliked flying. Malik held my hand as we took off, my nails biting into the back of his hand. He didn’t react, didn’t try to pull away. He just let me hold on as tightly as I needed to.

  Where had this man been all my life?

  Once we were in the air, I pulled my phone out and checked the tracking software I’d put on Alison’s phone. It’d been stationary for a couple of hours now. Ensenada was less than five hours from Santa Monica, so I imagined they’d reached their final destination. My only hope was that Case Michaels wasn’t as crazy as Alison had made him out to be and she was still alive. But that hope was fleeting. If I were an insane sex trafficker, I’d probably have killed her on sight.

 

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