She wasn’t getting out of this car. She might despise Zayid, but she’d asked for this life. As her mom used to say, “I made my bed, Lynx, and someday, so shall you.” Lynx had made her bed, and for the most part, it was a comfortable one ... and she needed to find Sammy for more reasons than anyone knew.
“I’m taking you home. Your friends miss you,” Dane said, interrupting her wandering thoughts.
She shook her head. “I live here.”
Dane leaned over the headrest and lasered his eyes on her. “I know it’s confusing. A touch of Stockholm or something, but we can’t sit here and chat forever. I’m getting you the fuck out of here, putting my job on the line, and now I gotta get the decoy out of there too.”
“What?”
“You need to go up to room 349. Act like you’re staying here.” He shoved a fur shawl back toward her. “Wrap yourself in this and go. A guy named Carson is waiting for you.”
“No! I can’t go back with Carson. He’ll tell ... Michael. No!”
“Who the fuck do you think sent Carson traipsing around the world?”
Lynx continued to shake her head, murmuring, “No. No. I can’t go.”
“Darlin’, I haven’t been sweating in this dusty hellhole for the fun of it. I’m getting you out of here. No offense, but this shit is kind of illegal, whatever you’re doing over here, your pimp back home introducing you ladies. I’m gonna handle the whole thing after I get you back on American soil ... which, if I don’t do it soon, we’re fucked. When Zayid realizes you’re not in the apartment, he’ll freak the fuck out.” His eyes begged her to understand, small crinkles forming in the corners.
“Sammy,” she said under her breath.
“What did you just say?” He locked in on her face and stared her down. When she only shook her head again, he demanded, “Speak up, Lynx.”
“Sammy. I need to find her.”
“What the fuck? Why?” He cocked his head to the side and waited for an answer.
“She’s my sister. Half sister. My dad had her a long time ago, about the same time as me, with his other woman.”
Dane blew out a long breath. “This is an interesting twist. Fuck!” He banged his head into the headrest. “How didn’t anyone figure this shit out?” he muttered, then mumbled a few other swear words to himself.
“She wrote to me in Miami and then showed up at my door one day, telling me about a sheik who wanted her to come live with him. He wanted her to be his sexual servant, harem girl, whatever, in exchange for lots of money and a life of luxury. She was afraid because he’dmether through some pimp in Arizona ... I guess selling ourselves is in our blood, same profession and all that. Anyway, she wanted to know if I thought this shit was legit. I don’t know why she trusted me.”
Lynx took a long breath. “Then poof, she disappeared. When Bruno mentioned he had this connection, I jumped on it. Jesus, why am I telling you all this like you’re some white knight? For all I know, you’re playing me too.”
She sealed her mouth tight and refused to say any more. This guy made one mention of Carson, and she started running off at the mouth.
“You have to go now, Lynx, and I’ll tell you this. I have Sammy or Samara, so you’re in luck.”
“What?”
“Go! I’ll have to fill you in later. I need to go back and get your lover’s friend so I can live to tell you. Go to Carson. Tell him Landon sent you.”
THAT NIGHT, they left the Middle East on an unrecorded flight to Grand Cayman Island, where they planned to get on another plane to Florida. The two women sat across from each other bundled in blankets, staring into space.
Quiet reigned the entire flight. No one asked any questions of the women or demanded any answers. Carson messaged people from his phone upon landing in the islands. Dane—who revealed his real name was Landon—typed on his phone too.
All this time, Lynx and Marta remained perfectly mute.
Lynx wanted to see her sister, but she didn’t want to see Mike. She also wondered what the hell Marta was doing involved in this ... and why did she stick her neck out for her? People didn’t do that for Lynx.
Or did they?
God, it was complicated. Here she was on a flight back to the States with Carson Graham—the former FBI agent who was married to Natalie’s husband’s best friend, the former stripper Sienna Flower—to supposedly be greeted by her very own ex-lover, the man who held her heart.
Big Mike Wind.
Michael.
