“Answer my question.” I really wasn’t in the mood for his history lesson, but the longer I kept him on the phone, the better lead Techie would get.

“Seven million. Wired to this account—got a paper?” I grabbed a sheet off the shelf. “512849554846251HGHUH” I handed it to Techie, nodding. “It’s offshore, so don’t bother tracing it. Also, upon the deposit, it will disperse to several different accounts, so there will be no way of finding it.”

“When?”

“Now seems good. You have five hours, or I fuck her, again, then kill her. I know you wouldn’t want your precious woman to die, now would you?” The phone clicked dead.

I stared at Techie and he smiled. “What!”

“I’ve got it. Seven Twenty-Nine Beachwild Drive. Condo eight. It’s his exact location.”

“Fucking shit! Call everyone. I’m grabbing Dan, Brett, and Rex. We are leaving now. I’ll call Sal. You get me everything you can on that property and send it to me!”

“On it.” He started typing on his computer as I left to find my woman.

 

Chapter 20

MY HEAD WAS fucking groggy, but I could hear that ass-hat talking shit to Jag on the phone. He hadn’t even attempted to fuck me, and that fucker Ghost had disappeared once I had gotten there. Wherever the hell there was. He had threatened to fuck me several times, but he had never followed through, and I hoped it stayed that way.

The room I was in was definitely a guest bedroom, though one for “kinksters” as the bed had damn shackles that my arms and legs were attached to. The windows and curtains were shut, but there were faint outlines of homes coming through with the daylight.

I had tried to come up with some scenario to get myself free. I just didn’t have the energy to fight. The asshole kept coming in and sticking me with a needle, pushing liquid into my veins. Every time he did, my eyes wanted to close and stay that way. It had been like that for days, but I had no idea how many to be exact.

The injections he was giving me didn’t get me high; it was more like a sedative to keep me from yelling. Just moving my body took strenuous work.

The asshole had fed me, but each time I saw the food he had I was terrified it was laced with more drugs, so I only ate enough to stay alive.

Once a day, he placed an IV in my vein, saying it was to keep me hydrated. By the fact that I had pissed my pants several times, and it smelled ungodly in here, I believed him.

I was scared as shit about him putting needles in me, but when I asked him if he knew what he was doing, he merely scoffed at me and said nothing more. There wasn’t anything I could really do about it.

Something loud crashed in the room next to me. Inside, I jumped. Outside, I was worthless. Then the door creaked open, and I cringed. I didn’t want any more of that shit he was putting into me.

“Well, sweetheart”—my stomach roiled at the term—“in just a few hours, this will all be over. I’m going to pack my shit and leave you be.” He moved to the bed and sat down, almost touching my body.

This guy, Jake, had very short brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore khaki dress pants and a button down shirt. He looked more like a man who played golf and had brunch than a man who would tie a woman up for days.

“While I’d love to play around with you, lucky for you, I’m not into women.” Relief on that comment was there, but I needed to get out and that was my focus.

My words came out groggy, and the bite that I wanted wasn’t there, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. “Jag and my father are going to fucking kill you. You’re a pathetic piece of shit.”

“Now, is that any way to talk to someone who gave you food and took care of you all this time?” He tsk-tsked like a school teacher, infuriating me more.

“You know I’m right. Why the fuck would you come after me?” I tried to yell the last words, but they came out more as a slur.

He reached over to the table, pulling out a needle.

I pulled on the restraints with the small bit of strength I could muster, but nothing happened. I closed my eyes, wanting to be anywhere other than where I was.

He placed the needle in my arm, injecting the fluid into my body, and my head instantly began swimming.

“See, I’ll give you much more before I leave. I’ll even be nice and give you enough that when the place goes boom”—his voice had risen with the word, scaring the shit out of me—“you won’t feel a thing. See, I can’t let you live. I think Jag needs to suffer since he knew our father. As far as you, your father killed mine, so an eye for an eye.”

My eyes widened as much as one can when drugged.

“Yeah, my brother. He won’t have much to live for after this, and I’m hoping I time it just right that he’ll be here when the blast happens, but that part isn’t one hundred percent quite yet. I’m working that out. I wanted your father here, but knew he’d be harder to get. You’re the substitute.”

The guy was fucking nuts. Of course, I already knew that, given my present situation, but now… Shit.

I tried to speak, my words coming out mumbled from the injection. “Don’t kill us,” I pleaded, knowing it fell on deaf ears. He was too far gone in his mind to care about anything I had to say.

“Sorry, honey, but for sure, you’re gone. Jag would be a bonus.” He stood. “All right, gotta run. Be back in a bit.”

Despair filled my heart. I tried again to tug on the restraints, but my body didn’t want to move.

There I was, trying to protect my family when I should have spoken up. All I could hope for was that Jag didn’t get there before the blast. At least I was still protecting those I loved. It would only be me going down.

Tears consumed me as the pain crushed my heart. I was going to die, never having told Jag how I felt about him.

 

Chapter 21

PULLING UP TO the condo, I saw everything looked peaceful and serene. The brick layout of each house made everything look cookie cutter with kids out playing in yards. Even 729 was well put together. No one would ever think anything was wrong.

The guys were on their way, and we would surround this fucking place in the next five minutes.

My phone rang.

“What?”

“Brother, didn’t our father ever teach you manners?”

“I’m not your fucking brother. Learn that shit right now,” I growled.

He sighed dramatically. “Do you have the money?”

“It’s getting routed.”

“Good. When it’s done, I want you to call me at this number. I will give you the address where you can find your woman, and I’ll be long gone.” He chuckled.

Fucker didn’t know it, but his time was up.

“How do I know this isn’t a line of bullshit? How about this? Once I have Catarina in my arms, then I’ll send the money.”

He laughed. “No way. I wasn’t born yesterday, big brother.” Every time he said that, I wanted to fucking kill him even more. “See, if you want your woman, you’re going to have to trust me.”

“I don’t fucking trust you for shit.”

“Smarter than I thought. Truth is, I set it all up for Sal to pay for killing our father, but since he’s hard to get, I’ll take his daughter. Now I just want the money. Tormenting you was Zan’s idea, and I went along for shits and giggles. I don’t care about you or your ways. I just want to live free.”

“You working with Flynn, too?” I wasn’t sure where that came from, but as soon as the words left my lips I knew the answer and my gut fell before he spoke.

“Oh, that’s the best part. Flynn and Steve, or Ghost … Oh … scary”—he chuckled again, further pissing me off—“they happen to be brothers. I don’t give a shit what happens to either of them. I paid them a lot for their help, and I’ll be so far gone no one will find me.” Brothers? You have got to be shitting me. There’s no fucking way. Techie found no links to Ghost having any family. How the hell was that missed?