Isla sobs. “I won’t let him die without a fight, or alone, Kai. Because he wouldn’t let that happen to me. He wouldn’t just sit safely outside while I was going through who knows what.”
There’s chaos around me. Men shouting, looking through binoculars, studying maps and calling out mine locations that could take us north, south, east, or west. Grudge is working with Wren, who is back at the clubhouse trying to triangulate their position.
And I lift my eyes to the sky. I’m not a religious man. But I pray.
I pray for courage for them both.
I pray that whoever is listening to the prayer will weigh up the good and bad I’ve done in my life and let the scales tip in my favor.
I pray for a miracle that will bring me to them both. Even if it’s just for long enough to tell them how much they both changed my life.
“I can’t lose you both, Isla.”
There’s silence on the line for a heartbeat. “I’m putting the phones, flashlight up, on a big rock. I love you, Kai.”
The call doesn’t cut. She doesn’t hang up, as if she knows without saying, that Wren is trying to trace the call.
“Gimme the location,” Grudge says suddenly. “Smoke, here.”
The two of them look over Grudge’s phone, and then, Smoke looks at hisownphone, as if overlaying information.
“Less than a mile away,” Smoke declares.
“Mount up,” Grudge shouts. “Full spread. No heroics. We move fast and smart.” He looks to me. “We’ll get them both.”
The ride is a blur of dirt and rage and roaring engines, and I force myself to bury my fears. To stop thinking about how hurt they may be or how I’ll protect them both. Because the only thing that matters, now, is getting rid of the person that would hurt them.
I channel my energy into remembering Paltrow’s sister’s face when she told me all the heinous things he’d done.
I force down the fear that he might have repeated the same to Isla or Garrett and focus on what it will mean to the world to have this walking scumbag gone from it.
My face will be the last thing he sees.
My fists will be the last thing he feels.
And my words, condemning him to hell, will be the last thing he ever hears.
I channel Isla’s breathtaking bravery.
And my fiancé’s courage.
So, when we make the last bend and see two beams of light emerging from a large rock, the only thing on my mind is death.
I don’t remember stopping or parking or turning off engines or removing keys. The terrain is rocky. Rough and uneven. If Isla is barefoot, like she was on the video of her getting forced into the truck, then her feet must be truly shredded.
Don’t think about her. Don’t think about Garrett.
“It should be over here,” Smoke shouts, leading us to the left of the rocks with their phones.
When I see it, my legs nearly give out. There’s the faintest glimmer of light farther in the tunnel.
I run, but Grudge is faster. He ducks his head beneath the framed entrance, and I follow him down the tunnel. It opens up a little farther in, and there’s evidence that, over the years,people have been here. An empty soda can, chip wrappers. People’s names carved into the walls.
I hear Isla scream, first. Then, the sound of fighting. A scuffle. A male grunt, not like any sound Garrett would make.
“Get…off him.” Isla’s throat is hoarse. The sound of terror in her words brings a burst of speed from everyone.
When we reach them, Garrett is on the ground, blood everywhere, as Paltrow delivers kick after kick to Garrett’s curled up body. He’s protecting his face with his hands.
