Fuck. My gut rolled as I realized what a mess her hands were from the hike I had forced on her. I pushed up the sleeves of her jacket to get a better look at her arms. Her coat, all of it, was completely soaked. I studied her. She was drenched and continuously shivering. Maybe it was shock, maybe she had gotten too chilled, but, whatever the cause, she was on the brink of hypothermia.
Instead of handcuffing her, I unzipped her coat and stuck my hands on her ribs.
“What are you doing?” she gasped. She tried to step back.
Her sweater was soaking wet, too. I needed to get her warm—fast.
“Take off your clothes.”
She wrapped shaking arms over her chest. “No.”
I reached into the truck and pulled a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt out of my bag. “Now.”
Her big eyes watched me like a small animal tracking a predator. “No.”
“Two minutes, or I’ll do it for you.”
She didn’t know that my threat was empty. I would never force her to undress, but she seemed to believe me, because she looked petrified. “Don’t look.”
Then she turned her back on me and slowly began to undress.
To give her the respect she had earned, I kept my eye on her just long enough to know she wasn’t going to try anything. But with each micro-glance I gave her, I saw something different. The slender curve of her shoulders. Her delicate feet. The way her entire body was shivering with cold.
She was so petite she damn near drowned in my clothes. When she was dressed, I had her climb into the passenger seat. I waited until she’d put on her seat belt before I cuffed her beaten-up hands to the door. Once I was in the driver’s seat, I reached behind the seat and pulled out my emergency blanket. I tossed it on her lap, turned the heater on high, and started driving along the old logging road.
I thought she’d be firing questions at me, but she seemed focused on trying to pull the blanket over her body. Eventually, her shivers subsided. I glanced over at her. She was tucked into a ball and had fallen asleep. Considering the stress of the situation, and the incredible hike she had endured while her body fought the cold, it was no wonder that she had shut down and found sleep the moment her body warmed up. I’d seen it a thousand times on the battlefield—it’s how survival works.
I checked my watch again. It was almost 4 a.m. Now I needed to call Drake so we could arrange to meet.
One heiress in exchange for two of my people.
I didn’t get cell reception until we hit the highway.
He answered immediately. “Do you have her?”
“Yes.”
“There is a motel on the north side of Squamish called Pine Spirits.”
“I know it.”
“We’re waiting for you.”
The phone disconnected in my ear. Mother. Fucker.
She was awake and staring at me with big eyes.
“Don’t say a word,” I told her.
She didn’t have to say a word. Her accusatory stare said it all.
I felt an irrational need to defend my actions. “I don’t know these men. They took my friends. I bring you to them, they return my friends.”
“Why me? Why do they want me?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” She fell silent when I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. There were two black SUVs parked at the far end of the lot.
I parked on the opposite end. I could see Drake standing alone in the shadows, but I knew there were more men planted around the property. I couldn’t see Andrusha or Olivia, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here.
“Is that him?” Her voice sounded small and petrified. “I don’t know him. Who is he? What does he want?”
I worked to harden myself against the fear in her voice. “Whatever business your family has with Drake is none of my concern.”
She gasped. “We don’t have any business with him! Why are you doing this?”
I grabbed her soft chin and forced her to look at me. “I’m not doing anything. I’m reacting to the ransom that was put on my friends’ heads tonight because of your family drama.”
Anger sparked in her eyes. “A sane person calls the police when someone gets kidnapped.”
“Yeah? How’s that working out for your grandfather?”
Her eyes spit fire, but her bottom lip trembled. “Bastard.”
I moved away from her and opened the door. “You got that right.”
“Don’t leave me here,” she begged, but I slammed the door on her words. Damn. When people talk about Stockholm syndrome, they always empathize with the hostages, but in my experience, the assailant has it a hundred times worse. In the end, the hostage taker has to be the bad guy, and no one likes that role. I needed this night to end.
I walked over to Drake. I could feel his men in the shadows, even if I couldn’t see them. I didn’t care. I was reaching the end of my rope, and I just wanted to get this over with. Usually I was good at staying calm, but in that moment I was fighting a range of emotions that simmered beneath my ice-cold rage.
“Where’s Andrusha?” I growled.
“There’s been a change of plans.”
A change of plans meant my friends were dead. Cold resignation washed over me. Now I would kill this motherfucker, and then his men would probably kill me.
I wanted to pulverize his face. “That’s not what I agreed to.”
“Relax—your friends are safe.”
I didn’t believe him. I inhaled slowly. “Prove it.”
He nodded at someone, and a few moments later, I could hear my burner phone ring.
Without taking my eyes off Drake, I answered the phone in Russian. “Viktor here.”
“You okay?” Andrusha’s voice sounded in my ear, steady and calm.
Something cracked inside of me, and relief flooded my body. “Olivia?”
“She’s fine. It’s somehow connected to you and Beirut.” Andrusha spoke quickly.
“How?”
I heard an angry noise from someone on Andrusha’s end, and then the line went dead. Leave it to Andrusha to be as cryptic as fuck and ten steps ahead of everyone. He had figured something out, and a memory of something that had happened, or almost happened, to me in Beirut was my warning. Too bad I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
I turned my attention to Drake. “What is this bullshit?”
“We need your assistance in another matter.”
“We had a deal. I bring the woman to you, you let my friends go.”
“Deals change.”
I had only worked twice in Beirut. Both of those situations had gone to hell. But they had been completely unrelated, and I couldn’t see any obvious connection to tonight’s scenario either. “What do you want?”
“We know who took Mr. Asterdam.”
What happened in Beirut? What am I supposed to remember? “And I care… why?”
“Blaire’s grandfather was in Manila and about to retrieve something of interest for us from one of his cargo ships. But on his way to the ship, he was abducted.”
“Still don’t care.”
“She’s the only one who can get what we need off that ship.”
I gave him a curious look. “Why?”