Page 106 of Every Last Breath

Castle froze, his jaw twitching as if he wanted to say something ugly and sharp. But he only clucked his tongue.

“I do love her.” For this truce to be real, there was a lot Cole needed to say. “I know you don’t believe me because I left and didn’t come back for her. You have every right to hate me for that. I hate myself for it. I know how you helped her when she lost the baby.” He swallowed his pride in an effort to be a better person. One worthy of Maddox. “Thank you for being there for her. She needed me the most then, and I failed her. I told her what happened to me. One day, I’ll tell you too. I think I owe it to you.”

Castle’s eyes widened. He looked stunned. Confused. In a flash, it was gone, and Mr. Tough Guy nodded.

Cole let his admission settle between them for a few seconds and dove right back in to the pressing matter at hand. “What are you doing about the issue?”

“We’re not sitting around twiddling our thumbs. It has to wait. Our hands are a bit full—”

“There you are.” Doc rushed inside the break room. “Castle, I was just in Sanborn’s office. He got a call from the director of national intelligence and wanted me to find you.”

“Is it about Maddox?” Castle and Cole asked in unison.

She shrugged. “He didn’t say. I’m sorry. Only that you needed to get in there.”

Castle set his mug down and took off.

A revving sensation ticked up in Cole’s chest, and he had to move. He ate up the room in one direction with long strides, turned, and went the other way.

Doc watched him with a sad smile that he’d rather not see. “This waiting can’t be easy. How are you holding up?”

He stopped, whipping his gaze to her, and folded his arms. Was she shitting him?

Standing there with a poor-you expression, using a come-sit-on-my-sofa-and-chat tone, wearing another bohemian I-wanna-make-the-world-better blouse with stupid flowers, and oozing a not-so-in-the-closet hippie aura, she was dead serious.

It was brutally obvious Doc was trying to be nice. The woman seemed sweet as pie, but he needed to be as far away as possible from nice and sweet. So he was stalking back and forth like a caged wild thing surrounded by this maelstrom of color.

His throat grew dry as he fumbled hard for the right words, since he didn’t want to offend anyone else who was trying to help.

Before he could say anything, Castle came back with urgency like he had news, but from the grim expression on his face, it wasn’t good.

“Did something happen?” Cole asked. “Did someone find a lead?”

Castle’s gaze dropped a moment, and when it bounced back, his face had hardened to ice. “That bastard called the DNI’s office. Novak boasted about having Maddox, said he buried her somewhere up to her neck on the bank of the Potomac.”

Doc’s sharp gasp cut through the sudden roar thundering in Cole’s head.

The words sank into his brain, connecting slowly. Once they added up, something inside him unraveled, and it took his last shred of control not to lose it completely.

Scrubbing a hand over his bald head, Castle said, “We have until high tide to find her—9:00 or 10:00 p.m.—or she’ll drown.”

“Oh no.” Doc pressed a hand to her throat.

To bury Maddox, torture her—unable to move, trapped with the knowledge the water would rise, wash in with the tide, drawing up her neck, creeping past her mouth, covering her nose—was unconscionable.

Drowning wasn’t a pleasant way to go. Right up there with being burned alive.

Red-hot rage boiled over inside Cole. His body was desperate to expel the frustration building. He spun and kicked a chair, sending it flying across the room.

Doc covered her mouth with a shaky hand.

He shut his eyes and saw Maddox. Buried, alone, afraid. This wasn’t something he could fix, talk his way to a solution, fight with his fists. This was purgatory with a countdown to hell.

His nerves quivered with fury and, beneath it, fear. The pressure welling in his chest deepened. For an instant, he thought his heart might burst. He doubled over, grasping his knees.

Think. He was no good to her unless his brain functioned. “Any trace on the call?”

“No. The Ghost was quick. Clean,” Castle said. “Reaper is firing up our helicopter.”