by Shauna Allen
It felt like I was walking toward my execution, and for a moment, I considered plunging into the ocean, but there was no getting away. There were too many eyes and too many guns. I would be riddled with bullets and left for the sharks or simply hauled ashore and brought back onto the boat for Juan to do with as he pleased. Either way, I was dead, so I simply trudged along behind him to face my destiny, fortified by the hope that somehow, someway, Lucas would find a way to me, though I had no idea how or if he was even alive.
The barrel of a rifle shoved me between my shoulder blades, nearly toppling me on the dock as I made my way onto the yacht. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a word, so he could retaliate. I simply climbed aboard, following Juan’s lead.
We moved to the back of the boat to a doorway then down a set of steps to go below deck. He opened a door, leading into a large room, full of luxurious furniture, a bar area with crystal decanters and expensive liquor, an entire wall full of computers, and—
“Brianne!”
I leapt to run to her, but Juan grabbed my arm in a steely grip.
I turned to him, frantic. “Let me go!” I spun back to her, but she was also being held back by a large muscled man I recognized as Esteban’s enforcer, named Gordo. Her platinum blonde hair was ratty, she was too skinny, and her clothes were wrinkled. She looked exhausted and she had a black eye. “What have you done to her?” I screamed.
Juan yanked my arm viciously, hard enough to leave a bruise. “She’s alive.”
I glared at him. “You hurt her.”
“We punish those who defy us, Grace. You know this.”
I frowned. “She’s done nothing. I’m the one who deserves the punishment. Not her.”
“Grace . . .” Bri started to speak, her voice soft and weak.
“Shut up, bitch,” Gordo growled, shoving her back into a chair at a computer. “You have things to do. Now, get busy or I’ll blacken your other eye.”
Tears began to track unheeded down my cheeks and I spun to Juan. “Please!” I pleaded. “There’s no need for this. I’ll marry you. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let her go.”
“It’s too late for that. Now, sit and shut up while I attend to some business.” He tilted his head toward Gordo, indicating for him to watch me as well, then spun on his heel and left the room.
Brianne didn’t dare to look at me, though I could tell she wanted to, as she worked on whatever she was doing at her computer.
Helpless, I sunk to the closest chair and hugged myself against a sudden chill as hopelessness began to overwhelm me.
There was no way out.
Not this time.
Behind me, the yacht’s motor hummed quietly as men’s voices murmured overhead, probably discussing my and Brianne’s deaths.
I glanced over at my best and oldest friend in the world and tried to console myself with the knowledge that if I couldn’t have a life with Lucas, at least I wouldn’t have to die alone.
Thirteen
Lucas
I left Bubba to gather the team, and without an explanation, raced back to the safehouse. I cursed myself the entire way. I knew better than to second-guess my intuition, and I should never have left Grace alone unless I was a million percent sure everything was totally safe. I’d dismissed my sixth sense, something I never, ever did. Stupid. Stupid. Fucking stupid. And now I’d put her in danger. If anything happened to her because I’d let my guard down . . .
I crushed the thought and roared into the beachside neighborhood, a prayer on my lips as I zipped up to the house and slammed on the brakes. I raced from the car when it was barely stopped and sprinted toward the front door then froze.
It was wide open. The house was as quiet as a mausoleum at midnight. No movement. No nothing. The alarm had been disabled, wires hanging listlessly from the wall.
“Grace!” I screamed, loping down the hall, though I knew I’d find the bedroom empty.
The scents of her perfume and our lovemaking still lingered in the air, but the bed was empty, the sheets puddled on the floor. Did that mean she’d been taken from my bed? Nude? Had she struggled? Was she alive?
“Fuck!” I roared.
“Lucky!” Tito’s voice carried down the hall.
“Here!” I yelled.
Footsteps sounded, and the entire team minus Red, who was gone on his honeymoon, hustled in to find me collapsed on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. “They got her,” I mumbled over and over. “How the hell did this happen?”
Idly, I heard them fan out to search the perimeter as Tito called out orders and Maverick touched base with Tex, who immediately set up remote comms. It was a well-oiled machine, but I was the weak link today, as my mind raced with the crushing weight of guilt and . . . doubt.
I’d been lured out of the house way too easily. Had she been a part of it? Had all of this been a ruse to get her into the United States, lure us into some kind of scheme, then get her out when the time was right? Could she be that ruthless? If her aim was to get to U.S. soil, mission accomplished. She’d given us enough good intel to make it seem legit and buy our trust. But why the romantic entanglements? To soften me up? Make me trust her before she went in for the kill? Then why just run away? She could’ve done so much more damage.
My mind was spinning. I couldn’t make heads or tails of any of this. A part of me still wanted to mistrust her, but a bigger part of me—the part that had gotten my ass out of countless life or death situations throughout the years—believed in her.
Was I a fucking idiot?
“You all right, man?” Tito sat down next to me, his gaze concerned.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“We’ll figure this out,” he swore.
I nodded.
“Tex’ll be here in a few minutes to sweep the computers.”
I nodded again, trying to wrack my brain for any clue, any idea where she might be, but all I could think about was how fucking beautiful she looked at the wedding yesterday and how good she felt in my arms as we danced once I got my shit together and cut in on Tito . . .
“Hey.” I snapped around and looked at him, remembering something he’d said. “Weren’t you supposed to be here all last night and this morning?”
He scowled at the accusation in my tone. “Watch yourself, Marine.”
I lifted a brow.
“And, yes. I was going to be on watch, but I got a text from Bubba, offering to take my shift, so I let him have it.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
It all suddenly clicked. I yanked out my phone and showed him my texts. “Our phones have been hacked, man.”
“Bubba!” he yelled.
Bubba popped his head in. “Yeah?”
“Let me see your phone.” Tito held out a hand.
Bubba handed over his cell without question.
Tito scrolled through his texts then bowed his head. “Goddamn it.”
“What?” Bubba asked.
“What’s Tex’s ETA?” he answered instead.
“I’m here!” Tex shouted as the door slammed shut.
“Thank fuck.” Tito stood. “We need to loop him in. This complicates matters tremendously.” He moved down the hallway. “Radio silence. Nobody uses their cell phones until I say otherwise,” he shouted to the whole team. “Use the landline if you must and check in with the womenfolk and let them know you’re all right and will be home when you get home. Any emergencies need to go through the base commander. Nothing more, nothing less. Understood?”
“Roger that,” we all echoed.
“Maverick.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t bother with a call. Go to the café. See your woman. Pick up some food for everyone then hustle back. This could be a long day and we need to eat.”
“Roger that.”
He ordered Kid to help Tex with comms and Bubba to do a thorough sweep of the entire house and perimeter for any potential clues or leads that may have bee
n left behind.
I was the useless one as I sat there in shock, caught between suspicion, guilt, and gut-wrenching fear as the realization began to creep up on me that despite my best intentions, I had unwittingly begun to fall for Grace Trevino.
“Lucky.”
I snapped to attention. “Sir?”
“You look like hell. Go get yourself together,” Tito ordered.
“Roger that.” I stood and sucked in a breath. He was right. I needed to get my shit together or I’d be no use to my team and definitely no use to Grace.
My only hope at this point was that Tex would find some intel that would lead us to where she was, because when he did, I would be ready.
I made my way to the small bathroom and shut myself inside. There wasn’t time for a shower, but I could shave quickly and wash up. I pulled open a drawer and—
I froze. It was empty.
I opened another. Nothing
The fuckers had ransacked the entire place and dumped everything. I checked the linen closet. They’d left the towels, but little else.
“Mother . . .” I kicked the cabinet under the sink, sending it flying back to hit my shin. “Fucker!” I leaned against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the burn of hopelessness.
“Grace, baby,” I whispered to the air in a silent prayer.
My eyes slid open and I realized that I did not recognize the man in the mirror. My gaze was vacant, my expression haunted. With a sigh, I moved to go, but something caught my eye and I paused. I leaned down and opened the cabinet.
My heart began to trip uncontrollably when I realized what I’d found.
Proof that she hadn’t lied.
And more importantly, a clue.
Relief made me weak. “Thank you, baby,” I whispered. “Hang on for me. I’ll find you.” I stood. “Guys!” I loped out of the bathroom and down the hall. “Guys. Grace left a note in the bathroom. The cartel got to her. She heard something about a boat.”
Tex looked up from his computer. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” I took in all their faces. “Why don’t you all seem surprised?”
He inclined his head toward his computer screen. “Well . . . because our white wolf friend has either gotten really sloppy or really stupid because it seems you’re right. They’ve left a digital trail that leads right to the Blue Winds Marina and a boat called the Beso de Muerte.”
“The Kiss of Death? Really?” Kid rolled his eyes.
“Esteban’s never really been known for his humble nature,” Tex said with a half-shrug, clicking a few more keys. “Either way, satellite imagery shows the boat is still docked in the marina and there are what we can assume to be at least a dozen hostiles. Maybe more.”
“Any sign of Grace?” I asked.
“I can’t tell, but we have to assume if they have her, they’re keeping her alive for leverage.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine. “But it’s safe to say she’s not going to be worth anything to them much longer, so you best gear up and get moving.”
“You heard him, men,” Tito growled. “Let’s get her back.”
Fourteen
Grace
It had been hours. Other than threats of violence, they’d left us alone, presumably so Bri could continue whatever they had her doing on the computers. They weren’t particularly interested in me, other than the occasional underling who sauntered through, leering at me like he wanted a taste, but I knew they’d never try anything or risk Juan’s wrath. We were allowed to use the bathroom and given sips of water, but no food, and I was starving and sore from sitting in the hardback chair they kept me confined to.
As the sun set, I was beginning to get desperate. What would happen after dark? Where would we sleep? Would we set sail? I was beginning to lose any and all hope I’d clung to of any type of rescue, not that there was much.
Juan hadn’t come back, and Gordo was in and out, giving me and Brianne a few brief moments to whisper to each other.
“Brianne?”
“Shh, they’ll hear you,” she murmured, tears in her eyes.
“I don’t care.”
She glanced at me, then back down, fear all over her face.
“I met a man,” I ventured.
She looked at me again, her expression softening. “Yeah?” she whispered.
I nodded. I waited while footsteps sounded outside our door. When it was quiet again, I whispered, “His name is Lucas. He’s an American Marine. He and his men are trying to help us. We just have to be patient.”
Something strange crossed her face, but I couldn’t place the emotion. Regret, maybe?
“What? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Do you love him?”
I blinked. My feelings were so tangled for Lucas, but I wouldn’t lie to my best friend. “I’m beginning to. He’s very special.”
“I’m so happy for you, Gracie. Truly. You deserve that happiness and a future.”
“So do you, Bri.” I flicked another glance to the door then ran over to her and crouched on the floor near her feet, my hand on her knees. “I’ve missed you so much. Are you okay?”
Her fingers stilled on the keyboard and the wide blue eyes I loved so much finally met mine. “I’ve missed you too,” she whispered back, gripping my hands tightly.
I began to cry when I saw the bruises on her knuckles. “What have they done to you?”
“It’s nothing. I was just scared of what they’d do to you.”
My eyes flashed up to hers again. “To me?”
“Yes.” She squeezed my fingers harder, her own tears falling now so I tugged her into an embrace. “I love you, Gracie. You’re like my sister. I’ll let them hurt me a thousand times before I’ll let anything happen to you.”
“I know. I feel the same, that’s why—”
A cry was ripped from my throat when I was yanked back forcibly by my hair and thrown to the floor. I stared up into Gordo’s furious face. “You’re lucky the boss is preoccupied with other matters,” he growled.
I crab-crawled my way backward toward my chair, my heart rate threatening to choke me. I’d been in this cartel my entire life. When had I become a helpless woman?
I hadn’t.
Anger spiked through my bloodstream, forcing me to my feet as I met his angry stare with one of my own. “Well, you can tell the boss he can kill me or he can kiss my ass. I’m done playing prisoner.” And with that, I stormed out the door and down the corridor, to nowhere in particular, high on my own show of stupidity. But I was done playing these games. At least they could take their fury out on me instead of Brianne.
Strangely enough, no one followed me. Once I realized I was alone, I picked up my pace to a jog, then an outright sprint, until I was at the other end of the yacht. My mind began to tumble. Should I make a break for it? Did I dare leave Bri behind to look for help? Did she stand a chance of surviving long enough for me to make it back?
No.
They’d kill her the second they realized I’d bolted.
I needed to get ahold of Lucas. I needed to get a message to him somehow, but every computer and phone would be monitored. Unless . . . unless I could get one of the guys’ cell phones. But how?
The one who ogled my cleavage. The young one. I might stand a chance with him.
Miguel.
I moved into the shadows and wound around the deck, searching for him. I waited. Listened. In a nearby cabin, I heard Juan yelling at someone about a shipment of guns and grenades to Africa. Then someone knocked. They exchanged words. My name was mentioned. He cursed a blue streak when they told him I’d just walked out.
“Well, she didn’t leave the marina. The men on the perimeter would’ve notified me. So, that means she’s on the boat. Probably having a woman’s temper tantrum. Let her sulk. I’ll find her when I’m finished here.”
I blinked at the knowledge that I wouldn’t have gotten away, even if I would’ve tried. Squinting into the darkness, I could just make out the figures on
the land with guns, guarding the area all around us. I couldn’t help but wonder what was the end game here? Were we staying? Leaving? The longer we stayed docked in America, the greater the risk.
But his next conversation answered all my questions. “Yes, sir. I’m waiting here just like we agreed upon. Yes. She’s here and alive.” He listened a minute longer. “You’ll get the package when I get my price and not a moment sooner, do we understand each other?” He slammed something down and let loose enough Spanish curse words to make his brother blush.
What the hell? What package? Which one of us was he planning to sell . . . and for what?
I waited, but there was nothing more.
Slowly, I crept along the wall, feeling my way in the darkness toward the other side of the ship. I had no idea where I was going, but I followed the scent of someone’s cigarette, hoping it might lead me to help.
Relief coursed through my veins when I spotted Miguel leaning against the railing, smoking and looking out over the ocean. I glanced around, thankful he was alone.
I summoned my courage and took a play from Bri’s playbook from high school with Pedro, praying it might work tonight.
I tugged my dress down as far as it would go, making sure he’d get a good glimpse of the cleavage he liked to ogle, then waltzed right out into the moonlight . . . and faked a twisted ankle, falling into a heap at his feet. I stirred up some fake crocodile tears, hoping for the helpless female appeal, and leaned over good and far so he could see down my dress, as I reached for my ankle.
“Oh. Ouch!”
I felt his hesitation and saw his half-smoked cigarette sail over the edge of the yacht as he tossed it away. From the corner of my eye, I thought I might’ve seen movement, but it must’ve been a trick of my imagination, because it was silent except for the lapping of the waves against the boat.
“What’re you doing out here?” he finally asked, crouching down near me.
“I . . . I came to see you.” I forced the sultriest purr I could into my voice, meeting his gaze.
He frowned. “Me? Why?”
I reached out and caressed the lapel of his jacket. “Because. I see the way you look at me. I know you want me.” I leaned in closer, triumphant when I saw the jump of his pulse. “I want you, too. I don’t want Juan.” My lips were near his ear now, my hand at his waist. “Help me.” I heard him swallow. “Please.” I eased his cell phone from his pocket as I brushed a kiss to his throat, feeling him melt into my touch. Satisfaction surged through me.