“No, but we’ll find out. Most likely, the banquet hall,” I say.
“I need that info.”
“Copy that.”
“Max, I’m going to drop your weapons into one of the courtyards.” Mitzy’s back online. “Do you have a preference?”
“You don’t think they’ll notice a drone coming in for a landing?”
“It’s not going to land. From what you’ve told us about their cameras, they’re only looking at the people inside. Nothing is pointed up into the sky. The drone will fly in and lower your gear on a cable. I’ve done extensive work on the motors; it’s virtually silent now, and black on black. Unless they know where to look, they won’t see it coming, and I don’t see any evidence of monitoring for aircraft overhead.”
“Are we going to have to be out there to greet it because that’s going to raise suspicions.” Knox glances at me and rolls his eyes. Stealth drones delivering guns definitely has Mitzy’s crazy signature all over it.
“Once you tell me which courtyard is the closest, I’ll figure out the delivery. My plan is to hide the package in the canopy of one of the trees or in one of the fountains.”
“Got it.”
We talk for the next two miles of our run with the team, ironing out the details of where, when, and how.
“Heads up.” Knox taps my arm.
Jogging toward us is a vision of loveliness. Eve’s long hair is pulled back high on her head. With each step, it swishes back and forth. That tiny flick of movement mesmerizes me, but my focus doesn’t stay there.
How can it when her tight body is on display? Perfect breasts lift and lower with each step. Her expression is one of intense focus. Looking down at the ground in front of her, she doesn’t see us until we’re almost in front of her.
I should move on, but I can’t help but stop. How many opportunities have we had to get her alone? And away from the prying eyes of The Retreat.
None.
That’s how many.
“Good morning, Eve.” I stop right in front of her, forcing her to either swerve around me or stop for a polite conversation.
“Good morning.” She gives us a curt nod as she jogs in place. It’s a subtle statement that she’s not interested in talking.
“I’m surprised to see you out.”
“Why is that?”
“I wouldn’t think it’s allowed.”
“I’m free to wander the grounds as I choose.”
“What about outside the walls?”
Her gaze flicks to the left where a twenty-foot wire fence bounds the property. An electric fence Knox and I have extensively mapped. Today is the last bit of our reconnaissance.
Knox moves off a bit, giving his “Boss” a modicum of privacy. He continues speaking to the team. Or rather, listening. He won’t blow our cover by talking to himself. I pull the earbud out of my ear so as not to be distracted by their conversation. They’re talking about exfil, which is how we’re going to get our asses, and the girls, away from this hellhole.
“I’m safer in here.” Eve stops jogging in place, perhaps settling herself for a conversation with me, but she turns wistful eyes toward that fence. I bet she runs along the fence doing exactly what Knox and I are doing now. She’s looking for weakness and opportunity.
That knowledge might come in useful. I file that fact away.
“Are you?”
“As safe as I can be.”
“Is this where you wish to stay?”
“That is a complicated question.”
“It’s a binary question with only two answers. Either you want to stay or you don’t.”
“This is better than the alternative.”
“What if the alternative is me?”
Something about Eve makes me restless and possessive. I probably shouldn’t blurt something like that out, but I am here to buy a slave. Mr. S would definitely be interested in taking Benefield’s woman. It’s a power play between two powerful men.
Eve’s gaze clashes with mine, flashing with anger, indignation, fear, and a glimmer of something else. I capture her gaze in mine, letting the moment stretch. Disgust curls her lip.
“I belong to Tomas.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Step aside, please.” She takes a step to the left.
Anticipating her move, I step with her, barring her passage. Eve huffs with irritation and steps back to the right. Again, I move with her, watching her irritation grow.
“I’m not done speaking with you.”
“I have nothing further to say to you, Mr. S.”
“Call me Max.”
She gives an indignant snort and props her fists on her hips.
Knox’s already stated she’s my woman. I’m beginning to understand what that means. As for how to secure her freedom, I’m still working that angle.
We all are.
The difficulty of this mission lies in the other girls. Forest, Sam, and CJ need to make a decision if we extend our extraction to the girls or limit it to only Eve. Knowing Forest, he won’t be happy leaving any woman in captivity. But there are limits to what even the Guardians can accomplish.
For now, I focus on Eve.
Nineteen
Max
Eve is always with Benefield, and other than that night in the courtyard, I haven’t been able to get her alone. Seeing her outside for a run, without guards, confuses me until I spot the device on her wrist.
Not any watch a woman would willingly wear, it’s obviously a tracker. She’s free to run outside the walls, but only at the end of an electronic leash.
More than ever, I’m convinced Eve’s status in this place is unsettled. Somehow, she convinced herself standing with Benefield would protect her from his depravity, but Eve doesn’t understand how psychopaths operate.
He’s the cat. She’s the mouse. And he’s playing with his shiny new toy.
He dangles her freedom in front of her, waiting for the right moment to pounce. That’s when he’ll rip away her safety blanket because it amuses him. I intend to take advantage of that very thing.
Over the past few days, Knox and I debated how to proceed, arguing whether to let her know who we are or keep her in the dark.
At first, I made the case for telling her about our mission. Knox vehemently opposed, saying we couldn’t trust her, that her allegiance to Benefield left too many unknowns up in the air. I relented after a day, deciding Knox raised valid concerns. We left it there, deciding to keep our secret and keep her in the dark.
Every day since, I try to get her alone, but Benefield tightens her leash.
With regret, Knox and I leave Eve to her jog and finish ours, heading in opposite directions. Then Knox surprises me.
“We need to tell her.”
“Why? I thought you didn’t agree.”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“And?”
“You need her willing.”
“Willing? There are many ways to define that. If anything, it’ll raise suspicions.”
“You don’t think she can pull it off?”
The willing part, in all honesty, is a foregone conclusion. Some wicked chemistry exists between us. I felt it just now, a crackling in the air, a heating under my skin, and desire blooming into undeniable need. From the way her breathing picked up, I’m not alone. She feels it too.