20
HUNTER
Islam my fist on the table, the impact sending three coffee cups rattling. “Nothing. Fucking nothing again.”
The satellite image of Jax’s supposed Cayman Island property mocks me from the screen—another dead end. Every hour that passes with Olivia in Jax’s hands puts Aurora one step closer to hating me all over again. Not that I blame her. I kept secrets about her father’s death, and now I can’t even deliver on my promise to find Olivia.
“We’ll find her, Hunt.” Penn leans against the window, his usually carefree demeanor replaced with grim determination. “Jax is good, but he’s not a ghost.”
Blaze cleans his handgun at the end of the table. “I’d say he’s moved her at least four times based on his pattern. Classic evasion technique.” His hands never falter in their work. “But everyone makes mistakes eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t good enough,” Ari snaps, pacing like a caged animal. Dark circles shadow his eyes, his perfect appearance uncharacteristically disheveled. “It’s been seventeen days. Seventeen fucking days with that psychopath.”
Grayson looks up from his laptop. “The Macao lead is still promising. My contact confirmed unusual activity at the property.”
“Like the ‘unusual activity’ in Barbados?” Ari’s voice cuts through the room. “Or the warehouse in Manhattan? Or the fucking ski lodge in Vermont?”
I study Ari’s face, seeing something I hadn’t noticed before—raw desperation beyond loyalty to the mission. “You and Olivia.” It’s not a question. “While I was with Aurora, you two were?—”
“Yes.” Ari stops pacing, challenging me with his stare. “We were. And before you start with theshe was my fiancéebullshit, we both know that was nothing but a business arrangement.”
Penn whistles low. “Well, fucking hell. The plot thickens.”
“Shut up, Penn,” Ari and I say simultaneously.
“How long?” I ask, feeling a strange twist of guilt. While I’d been obsessing over Aurora, I’d barely spared a thought for Olivia beyond her being an obstacle.
“Long enough that I’ll burn down every safe house Jax has to get her back,” Ari says, his knuckles white as he grips the back of a chair.
I study Ari’s face more carefully. The tightly controlled facade he’s known for is cracking—eyes too wide, jaw too tight. His perfectly manicured nails dig into the expensive leather of the chair. I recognize that look. It’s the same one I saw in the mirror when Aurora was taken.
“You’re off this operation,” I say, my voice leaving no room for debate.
Ari’s head snaps up. “Like hell I am.”
“You’re compromised. Emotions make you sloppy, and sloppy gets people killed.” I tap the table, emphasizing each word. “Or have you forgotten how I nearly got everyone killed at the warehouse because I couldn’t think straight?”
“That’s different,” Ari snarls.
Penn snorts. “How exactly is it different? Because it’s you instead of Hunter?”
“Because we’re wasting time with this intelligence bullshit!” Ari sweeps his arm across the table, sending papers flying. “Jax isn’t in fucking Macao or the Caymans. He’s at the Montana compound.”
Blaze stops cleaning his weapon. “Montana was cleared three days ago.”
“The official compound was cleared,” Ari says, his voice dropping dangerously. “Not the hunting lodge. Somewhere within a ten miles radius, accessible only by helicopter or a maintenance road that doesn’t appear on any map. Jax mentioned it once, years ago. Said it was where he’d go if things went sideways.”
Grayson’s fingers fly across his keyboard. “There’s nothing in our files about a secondary location in Montana.”
“Because Jax wouldn’t put it in the files,” Ari says, exasperated. “You think he hasn’t been planning for this possibility for years? He’s paranoid enough to have places we don’t know about.”
I narrow my eyes. “And you conveniently remember this now?”
“I didn’t remember until—” Ari stops, running his hand through his hair. “Look, I had a dream last night. About something Jax said years ago at that ski trip in Aspen. About having a place where no one could find him. A place with no digital footprint not far from the official compound in Montana.”
“Not far? That’s it? That’s what you’re going with?” I shake my head at Ari. “So what, we just go and sweep an entire huge area of wilderness based on something you vaguely remember from a dream?”
“It’s not just a dream. It was a real conversation,” Ari insists, his knuckles white against the chair.
