by Tina Saxon
“Nope, only you. I’m waiting patiently for you. Who knew I was such a patient man.” He smirks and tickles me, taking me to the ground.
“Stop or I’ll have to hurt you,” I scream between laughs.
He rolls on top of me, his emerald green eyes shining bright.
“I knew you’d wait for me. I love you forever,” I whisper as I pull his lips down to mine.
In the distance I can hear thunder clap. It halts my kiss.
“Is it supposed to rain?” I ask.
“No, it’s always sunshine, sweetheart.” His lips caress mine, and I quickly forget about any thunder.
“Add cat?” A whisper jolts me.
The slamming of a door makes me jump, fear pricks inside me like needles all over my body. I look around frantically, but all I can hear are my labored breaths. The moon’s light is bright enough I can see that no one is in here with me.
I look at the ground and notice a fresh plate of bread and a cup of spilled water. I shake my head. That must have been the noise I heard that woke me up. My hands shake as I lay my battered body back down.
I close my eyes again, but sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I wonder why I would dream about Frankie. I haven’t seen Frankie since I left Texas last year.
“Do you really think he has information?” Max asks, looking at me in the rearview mirror. Damon turns and looks back from the front seat.
“It’s been two weeks of nothing. I don’t care what kind of lead he has, at least it’s a lead.” Travis’s attorney called Max this morning saying Travis wanted to see me, that he might have some information.
Max nods. “I just don’t want you to get too excited. I mean you put this guy in jail. He doesn’t like you,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Addison is his daughter. He won’t lead me on a snipe hunt. He wants Addison found just as badly as I do. He also wants Joe found as soon as possible, too.” I rub my hands down my jeans. At least I hope so. It feels like it’s been months since I saw Travis, yet it’s only been three weeks.
When we get to the jail, we’re directed to a room where Travis is already sitting, and there’s a guy next to him. Who the fuck is that? I know that’s not his lawyer. I look the guy over. Bald, as tall as me, probably as fit as Max. Being caught off guard has me second-guessing why we’re here. Travis better not be screwing with us.
They have set up three chairs for us to sit in across from them. The metal chairs scrape against the concrete floor as we take our seats. I’m in the middle, Max and Damon on each side.
“Who’s your friend?” I say, looking at Travis. He’s not looking so good. It looks like he’s getting as much sleep as I am.
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is he knows where Addison is.” I can’t decipher his hard stare. Can’t tell if he’s lying or telling the truth. I fist my hands under the table.
“It does matter,” I grind out. “I need to make sure you’re not sending us on a wild goose chase. I need all the information I can get. Starting with who the hell he is.” I nod my head in the guy’s direction.
“Frankie Sanchez,” he says, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Satisfied with a name, I look back to Travis.
“Where is she?”
Travis looks down, taking a few deep breaths. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with turmoil. Regret. Hate. Tears.
I can feel the weight of whatever he’s going to say. It’s already suffocating me. I briefly look away from the pain in his eyes, knowing my world is about to come crashing down.
“Is she alive?” I murmur as I lean forward on my elbows, my voice barely audible.
“She is.” The reply doesn’t come from Travis. I jerk my head to Frankie and wait for him to expand on that. When he doesn’t, anger takes hold.
“Well, where the fuck is she? Someone tell me where Addison is!” I scream, jumping up from my chair. The sound of the chair screeching takes me back to when I was here just a few weeks ago when I found out my dad killed Addison’s mom and then Joe took her from me.
The breath I can’t seem to grasp has me feeling lightheaded. Damon must notice because he’s standing by my side. “Sit down, Aiden.” His hand pushes my shoulder down, forcing me back into my chair. I hate that I’m still weak.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, taking in deep breaths. My eyes are closed when Damon starts asking questions.
“Where did you see Addison, Frankie?”
“I work … worked for Rico Santiago.” I tense immediately at the name and look up to Travis.
“What? This is your fault,” I say with a chill in my voice, pointing at him. “You told me he wasn’t an enemy anymore, that you were on neutral ground.” I remember when I worked undercover and came across Rico’s name. He told me I didn’t have anything to worry about with him. He wasn’t a threat. They had come to a mutual agreement. Seems that agreement was only one fucking sided.
“You don’t think I know that? Don’t think I blame myself the entire twenty-four hours a day I’m in this hellhole? It seems I trusted the wrong people!” he yells, pulling on his cuffed hands attached to the table.
“This isn’t helping,” Max says calmly, interrupting us. “Frankie.” Max motions for Frankie to continue. Frankie looks between me and Travis, twisting his lips, and slightly shakes his head. I narrow my eyes at him, and I’m about to fire off some words, but he starts talking instead.
“I was there at his house doing some … business.” He glances our way but when we don’t say anything he continues. “As I was relaxing with some sweet sugar in my lap, Rico came in the room and told me to take some food to someone. He told me the guy who normally does it wasn’t there.” He shrugs. “So, I was like, okay. I was definitely not going to say no to the boss. I didn’t know it was in the basement though.” My fists are so tight that my nails dig into my palms. I know where this is going. I can feel the anger seep into my veins. Anger that erases any oath I’ve made for justice.
Anger that makes me want to kill.
I jolt up out of my chair, pacing the room. I haphazardly run my hands through my hair. I can’t even bring my eyes to look at anyone. Even when Frankie continues.
“When I opened the door, I thought I’d see a man. Some schmuck who did Rico wrong.” Frankie’s voice becomes hard and angry. “When I saw her …” He pauses, slamming down a fist on the table. I jerk my head in his direction. His eyes are black and filled with fury. “When I saw Addie lying there … it took everything I had in me not to pick her up and leave.”
“How did she look?” I whisper and swallow the lump in my throat, afraid to hear his answer. He looks away from me as his eyes water. He shakes his head, closing his eyes. My fears have just become reality. I know what he’s not saying. I know what goes on in those basements. I’ve been on numerous cases rescuing people—the ones who lived—from those basements.
“So, you left her there?” I seethe.
“I would have gotten us both killed.” He directs his glare at me. I nod, knowing he’s right. “Instead, I left her food and the rest of the night I tracked every motherfucker there. Got as much information as I could about security, rotations, layout of the house. And I felt like the biggest asshole the entire time, knowing she was down there suffering.” He pushes off his chair, standing toward the wall and hangs his head. “I would do anything for my Add Cat. I owe her my life.”
What the hell? Add Cat? Not yours. Mine.
I want to jump over the table and punch his teeth out of his mouth. Damon’s words halt the rage ready to explode. “How do you know Addison?”
How does he know Addison? The nickname. I’ve heard that before. Where have I … “I know who you are. You got Addison shot.” My eyes widen, remembering when Addison told me about the scar on her leg. That’s why his name sounded so familiar.
He slowly turns around and lets out a low chuckle. “I did not get her shot,” he grumbles. “I was so pissed at her
for getting involved. She’s always been a firecracker.”
Confusion reflects on everyone’s face as I look around, waiting for him to continue. Even Travis looks surprised. I guess he doesn’t know everything about his new friend.
“How do you know Addison? And when the hell was she shot?” Damon asks and glances my way. I jerk my head toward Frankie. Let him explain. I doubt I’ve heard the whole story.
“Let’s just say we saw each other a lot while she was in college.” Bastard. She was never yours. Why he’s making it sound that way grates on my nerves.
“She worked at the courthouse, and Frankie here was a frequent flyer.” I raise my brow in challenge.
“Something like that,” he says. I don’t have time to argue about why he was at court. So I let it go. “Anyway, one night some guy who thought I snitched found me at the courthouse. He somehow got a gun inside and shot me in the leg. Addison thought her bad-ass self could take the guy down before he killed me. She didn’t know he was hyped up on opiates. He ended up throwing her against the wall and took a shot at her. Before he could take another one, security got there and killed him. The shot grazed her leg.” I can hear the anger in his voice as he retells the story.
Damon sighs. “Only Addison,” he says, shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised?”
Everyone takes a moment to refocus. “You were right to do what you did,” Max says, getting back to why we’re here. “When did you see her in the basement?”
“Last night,” he murmurs. “When I found out she was there because she was Travis’s daughter, I thought for sure they had the wrong person.” His bleak eyes meet mine. “I flew here the second I could get away without my absence being noticed.”
“Are you sure they didn’t suspect anything with you questioning things?” Max asks.
Max’s leg starts shaking. He’s getting impatient. The reserved guy is losing control. Out of the five of us, he’s the one who never shows his cards. He’s also the most lethal. He left the FBI because he wanted to do things on his terms, not theirs.
“No, I made sure to get a few guys trashed last night to find out information. Even if they recall anything about it this morning, they won’t say shit to Rico. They fucked up running their mouths. They’ll want to live.”
“Either way, they’re already dead,” Travis grates out slowly. Old man, that is one thing we can agree on.
Max and Damon stand tall and talk to Frankie before the three of them exit the room. I look down at Travis and his head hangs low. I close my eyes and exhale loudly. As much as I want to blame the guy, guilt slaps me in the face.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep her safe,” I murmur. His tear-filled eyes, which show their age, find mine. “Thanks for coming to us. I’m sure you’ll be getting out soon.”
“Aiden, the only thing I regret right now is not making sure he was six feet under.” He sighs before continuing. “I told you I’d come to you if I found out anything. But I promise you, if you don’t burn that place down, I will.” His voice is gruff, filled with vengeance. I nod slowly. I know better than to say out loud what I really want to say. I silently promise to make sure everyone pays with their life, especially Joe.
I growl. “What do you mean I’m not going in?” I stand up and get in Max’s face. Instead of backing away, the asshole takes a step closer. We’re almost nose to nose.
“You are not in any shape, physically or mentally, to go in there,” he says calmly. “You’re still healing from a gunshot wound, and you are too emotionally invested to think clearly when going in there. You’ll get yourself—or someone on the team—killed. No.”
I turn away from his cold stare. “Fuck you.”
It’s all I got. I slump into the chair. We’re on our way to Texas in Max’s jet. When I found out where the house was, south Texas, I couldn’t believe she was that close to her home.
“At least you’ll be alive when you do it.” He smirks. I flip him off, shaking my head.
Frankie sits across from me, studying me. It doesn’t worry me because I have nothing to hide. Unlike him. I tilt my head, twisting my lips with my fingers, and stare right back. I wasn’t surprised that he wanted to come. I was surprised that Max let him.
“Why’d you go to Travis?” I narrow my eyes in accusation. “Not come directly to us.”
He shrugs. “I don’t like cops.”
I slowly nod but don’t believe him for a second. Something is off.
“Who do you work for?”
“Aiden,” Max warns me from his chair. He, Damon, and Stone sit around a table going over the plans for tonight. The table is behind Frankie’s chair, to the right. His eyes are on mine and the slight shake of his head tells me this isn’t the time.
“Right now I’m working for myself,” Frankie says, pulling my attention back to him.
“I bet you are.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. He smirks at me as he stretches his legs out. I know I should be kissing the ground this guy walks on for taking us to Addison, but he has an ulterior motive. I start to wonder if he’s leading us into a trap but I remind myself that Max would have picked up on that already, so that’s not it.
Our stare off is interrupted by Max. “Now’s not the time to fight over who has the bigger dick.” Max’s glare should scare me, it does most people. I know I’ve pissed him off.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. We have the rest of the team meeting us there. A couple of my guys are already in place, watching to make sure they don’t move Addison. I’ve contacted another Texas security company I trust to help. You’ll both be with Stone and one of their guys in the van. You’ll be our eyes.” He continues to go over the plan with us. My foot starts to shake as my anxiety climbs to toxic levels. I’ve tried to not focus on what has happened to Addison, which is probably the reason my focus has been on Frankie.
We’re close. We’re close to bringing her home. And I’m scared out of my mind what we’re going to find.
Another loud noise pulls me out of my dream. I try and focus my eyes in the darkness. Looking around, I don’t see anything. I shake my head. I feel like I’m walking the line of reality and make believe. I don’t know where one ends and the other begins. My eyelids are heavy, and I welcome the sleep. Sleep takes away the pain.
Two more loud pops and my eyes fly open. Gunshots. I try and sit up, listening to the silent air, but I’m too weak and my arm gives out. The door flies open, and I scream. A shadow moves across my room and a gloved hand covers my mouth as fear takes hold of me. Curse words are muttered under his breath. It’s hard to even see him as he’s covered in black from head to toe.
“Addison, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” his words are whispered into my ear. I don’t know if my mind is playing tricks on me again. Am I going to wake up from this dream? Am I going to wake up to this hell again? My body starts to tremble as I squeeze my eyes closed. I hear metal against metal and my hands are set free from the handcuffs. A blanket is thrown around me, and I’m lifted into strong, warm arms. I moan out in pain as I’m reminded about my broken rib. The pain finally subsides as my body starts to pull me under.
Sleep … I welcome sleep.
I hear words, but they float around in my head. I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming.
“I need a fucking medic, stat.”
“Keep the package warm.”
My eyes flutter open to a bright room. I feel pressure on my left arm. I look at the IV in my arm and follow its path to a bag filled with liquid. I hear numerous beeps but other than that it’s quiet. My mind is having a hard time forming a coherent thought. Instead, I focus on the beeps. I lick my lips and they have something gooey on them.
I grunt at the horrible taste. Where am I? I look down at my wrists and both are wrapped in gauze. I exhale shakily when the fog starts to clear, and I understand where I am. I’m in a hospital.
I was rescued.
“She’s still not awake,” Aunt Amy whispers as she walks into the room. When our eye
s meet, the phone slips from her hand and falls to the floor. She rushes over.
“Oh, my God, Addison,” she cries. “You’re awake.” She grabs my hand as tears fall down her face.
The relief from being rescued doesn’t come. Instead, I look away in shame. I can’t take the pain in her eyes. I close mine as she tells me that she’s going to get a doctor. A petite female doctor comes in by herself. I stare at her for a moment then turn to face the large window. The sun shines bright, and I can see a tree blowing in the wind. I watch the leaves move with the wind, and I wonder where I am because it’s winter. Most trees are bare right now.
The doctor is talking, but my mind focuses on the tree. Are the leaves changing color at all? My gaze moves from branch to branch.
“Addison?” the doctor says, interrupting my tree assessment. I look at her.
“Can you hear me?”
I nod my head.
“Are you able to talk?”
I know I don’t really want to. I know once I start, they’ll ask questions. Never-ending questions. Questions I don’t want to answer. I just want to enjoy the peace and quiet right now. I shake my head.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Able to but don’t want to?” she asks, studying me. I nod my head this time and look back out the window at my tree. I can hear her pen scribbling something on my chart.
As soon as she leaves, Amy comes back into the room. She doesn’t say much, just holds my hand. I appreciate the time she’s giving me to remain silent. She does force me to take a couple bites of my breakfast. After taking two bites, my stomach protests the nourishment it’s been deprived of for the past couple weeks.
It doesn’t take long for my body to tire. I resist the urge to sleep, afraid of who is waiting for me behind closed eyes. My eyelids grow heavy and sleep is unavoidable. In my dream, I wake up and Aiden sits by my bed, holding my hand. I wish we were back in the field. I liked that better than my hospital bed. When I squeeze my hand, he looks up and our eyes meet.