“Let me go,” I growl. Fuck him, fuck everyone in this room. I don’t care anymore; I don’t care about anything. I want to hit him, making him feel a little bit of the pain that I feel ripping my heart in two. And then I want to go home, back to her space and get fucking drunk and cry. I want to be alone when I let the grief take me, not here in this fucking office. Fuck this and fuck them.
“No,” he says. “You need to listen.”
“Fuck that,” I bite out. “She’s dead. I don’t need to know how. I need to get drunk.”
“She’s not dead,” Black says, and everything in my body stills. The world quiets.
“What?” The word feels torn from the very depths of me.
“She’s not dead,” he repeats.
“Then what is this all about?” I ask. He seems to hesitate for what feels like years but, in reality, it’s only seconds before he comes to his decision. What is this fucked up game he’s playing at? Because if she’s not dead, then…
“She’s been taken.”
“Where?” I demand. “By who? Tell me everything.”
Black looks over his shoulder to Cole, and I just about lose it all over again.
“No,” I bark out. I make a dangerous move challenging the two top dogs in the room for dominance but who the fuck cares now when MacKenzie’s life hangs in the balance? She’s the only thing that matters to me. “Don’t look at Mommy for permission. Answer me, Goddammit.”
“You need to lock it the fuck down,” Cole says, his voice low and vibrating with authority that I want to bristle against. But I know I need him and the other men in this room in order to find out what’s going on, so I nod in acceptance and bite back my angry retort.
“Tell me.”
“Yesterday, a group orchestrated her capture by tampering with her aircraft so that it would crash once it was behind enemy lines,” Cole says.
“Who?”
“Chatter says they forced a mechanic by the name of Allan Woodruff to fix her plane so it would fail,” Surfer adds. “She was also passed a false flight plan so that once she crashed, she was out of contact and sight with her relay men.
“Why?” I demand. I need to know why someone would harm what’s mine, and there better be a damn good reason.
“They have his wife and kids,” Dixon adds, and I close my eyes, because I can’t hate the man. I can’t even say that in his shoes I wouldn’t do what he did, because I know there is no end to what I would do or where I would go to save the people I love.
“So what happens now?” I ask, and I hate that the words coming out of my mouth sound so weak and desperate, but I am a desperate man. I need to get to Mack and ensure her safety. I need her back here with me where I can protect her until the day that I die. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll bring her home safely.
“We get her back,” Miller says.
“Thank fuck,” I bite out, feeling relief pour through my body. If ever there was a group of men who could handle a job like this, it’s this motley crew.
“It’s time to set a TRAP,” Sean says happily.
Chapter Eighteen
MacKenzie
Crashed
Blurry.
The hazy gray and blue colors of the room twist and swirl all around me. I blink to clear my eyes and clench my teeth against the wave of nausea that grips my belly. I must have eaten something that disagreed with me. Maybe not enough fluids this morning before a hot day in the cockpit. Anything is possible when we’re over here. The only thing I know is that I have to get it together. I have an early morning flight, and I can’t be a mess or command will ground me.
And one thing I’ve known since I was just learning to fly—I’d rather be dead than grounded. I would do anything in the world to keep from being grounded. I need to fly.
I blink again and try to chase the last bit of sleep away from the nightmare that still has me caught in its teeth. I had the craziest dream last night. I dreamed that Woody was turned, and he sabotaged my plane so that I would crash. That’s crazy. Woody is a friend. He would never sell me out like that, right?
But it’s when I open my eyes that I realize it’s not a nightmare but my real life.
