Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
She knew she was being foolish, but she couldn’t seem to stop hoping and praying that the other man had found some clue about who had taken Trees. The concern on Matt’s face dashed her hope.
“We’re working on it,” he told her. When she opened her mouth to demand again they return to the scene, he cut her off. “But he’s already gone. So is the van.”
Laila’s terror ratcheted up again. Barely thirty minutes ago, she had been in his arms. Now he was most likely Victor Ramos’s prisoner and would probably die for the great sin of trying to save her. Dios mío, she had to do something. She had to contact Victor. Yes, and make a deal. Trees’s freedom in exchange for hers. Trees would be angry, but it was for the best. The world needed him. He was a hero. Everyone but her sister had given up on her long ago.
No matter what, don’t put yourself in danger. Trees’s demand rang through her head.
Laila shook her head. She couldn’t heed her promise to him now. She couldn’t live with herself if she had the means to save him and she selfishly did not. Besides, her misery didn’t matter, only Trees staying alive did.
“Any idea which direction the van went?” Matt asked into the phone.
She couldn’t hear the answer, and it was killing her. She would do anything to know…
As the inky night rolled past the windows, leading them into a sleepy residential neighborhood with older houses farther apart, her thoughts scrambled with possibilities. Then Matt screeched to a crawl in front of a blue house with white trim and black shutters. He turned down a dirt path that flanked the structure, rolling behind it to sandwich the truck between the back porch and a tall privacy fence. Other vehicles were already parked out back, including one she vaguely recognized riding in when she’d first reached the States last September.
Matt killed the engine but made no move to open his door—or hers. Ghost pulled up beside them, hopped out, then made his way to her. Finally, Matt disengaged the locks and slid out as Ghost wrenched her door open and all but dragged her from the back seat, carrying her as if she presented no challenge at all, despite her squirming protests. He might be on the wiry side, at least compared to Trees, but he was ridiculously strong.
As they approached the rear of the house, Matt sidled up behind them, gun poised for battle, just in case.
The back door opened. Joaquin Muñoz stood waiting, weapon in hand as he scanned their surroundings, too.
As soon as Ghost set her on her feet in what looked like someone’s living room, Joaquin shut and locked the door. Matt remained outside. An unfamiliar man sidled up to Joaquin, dressed in an impeccable suit, despite the fact it was well past midnight. She wasn’t fooled by his attire. This man was lethal. He made Laila nervous.
“Who is he?” she asked Muñoz.
“Trevor Forsythe. He’s with us.”
Maybe Muñoz had brought Trees more help. “You are all going to find Trees now, yes?”
Laila knew better than to believe they would let her come along. But she had other ways of helping. She just needed time to think of a crafty approach and some privacy.
Muñoz shook his head. “My brothers have already searched the scene. So has Ghost. These guys were good. We couldn’t find anything.”
She turned to look at the operative in the ski cap with the unusual eyes, then back to Trees’s boss. “So you intend to do nothing? He is your employee. He risked his life because you assigned him to protect me, and now he may die horribly because of it. You cannot—”
“Of course we’re doing something. We’re working on it now.”
Matt crashed inside a moment later, carrying Laila’s bag. She ran to the duffel and dragged out her phone, just in case Trees had somehow reached out to her.
Nothing.
She bit her lip to stifle a cry. Tears served no purpose. She had to stay strong and think.
Laila hardly noticed when Matt stepped outside again. But the disturbance when he walked back in, Trees’s go-bag in hand, had her head snapping up. The sight of it crushed her all over again, and it was foolish. Of course no one had hit Trees merely to rob him of whatever worldly goods he’d had in his vehicle. Victor wanted Trees under his thumb because he wanted revenge. He wanted to torment her again. He wanted to snuff Trees out as revenge for his brother’s death.
She had to stop him.
Matt dropped the duffel on the floor. “Hunter and Logan are coming up the drive. Deke isn’t far behind.”
“Deke?” Muñoz was clearly puzzled. “Is he coming for support?”
Matt shrugged. “Where should I put Laila?”
“You will not put me anywhere. If you are making plans to rescue Trees, I insist on helping.”