Page 83 of Her Faithful Protector

The bearded man flips my body over so I’m facing the floor, his entire weight pressing down on me. Gasping for air, I struggle to take even the smallest breath as his hand reaches my trembling wrist. The sharp prick of the needle penetrates my skin, a familiar sensation coursing through my veins. This time, my breath escapes me completely, leaving only the sound of the man’s voice echoing in my ears. “Have a nice…” His words fade away as I succumb to unconsciousness.

When I eventually open my eyes, I find myself jolted inside a raucous vehicle. The metallic surroundings trap the stale air, adding to the sense of confinement. I hate to accept defeat, but my chances of escaping have dwindled to nothing.

This is no car ride. I’m on a fucking plane!

30

JACK

I pace the length of Sam’s office, my eyes darting toward the dayroom where Quinton is. Hours have passed, and the weight of responsibility swamps me as I consider the boy, who is still without his mother.

“He could be anywhere,” Sam sighs. He stands right next to me, and I can see the worry lines on his face deepening.

“It’s got to be somewhere sentimental to him. He’s the kind of man who enjoys playing games to make a point,” I explain, racking my brain to uncover what that ‘play’ and ‘point’ could be this time. “When he devised that twisted plan to ransom Quinton, manipulating Ava into giving up custody, it may have seemed like a game, but it wasn’t. I genuinely think he wanted Quinton for himself, not to fulfill his role as a father. He didn’t care about his own flesh and blood!”

“So he’s just worried about his succession plan?”

“Maybe. But I bet he has a different motive this time. When Willem was just six years old, his mother abandoned him. Now that Ava has also left him, it appears to be the perfect chance for him to seek his revenge—not only against Ava but also, symbolically, against his lost mother.”

Sam frowns. “It’s the worst kind of revenge, with deep roots from a time when you can barely tell right from wrong.”

This makes the battlefield even more treacherous. But before anything can begin, I have to know where it’s going to take place.

“Do you know where Willem and Ava met?” Sam asks.

“Sacramento, the DOJ headquarters. So it’s unlikely he’s taking her there.”

“How about his house?”

“Maybe,” I hum, tinkering with the idea.

My brother turns around and sits behind his desk, resting his chin on his hand. “Too predictable, you reckon?” he guesses.

“Everything revolved around him, from his company logo to every possession he owned. His Beverly Hills mansion was not a home. Everything felt staged. He had this giant exhibition of his inventions, those chips, which all looked the same to me. There were also numerous awards and memorabilia, even his pictures with Ava and Quinton, which were the size of paintings in an art gallery. It all felt so symbolic—or maybe just artificial, like the AI business. The only thing that felt human in there was Quinton’s room. I’m sure Ava decorated it.”

“Anywhere in Montana is symbolic for him?” Sam asks.

I shake my head, uncertainty gnawing at me. “When he called me at the park, he arranged for a random kid to deliver the picture of the basement. He made a joke about being out in the Atlantic Ocean. But I knew he was nearby.”

As I say it out loud, I think about the appearance of the boy, making me involuntarily scoff. Sam’s gaze becomes sharp, his eyes honing in on my every expression as if he can read the story of my abduction etched on my face. “What are you thinking, Jack?”

“That boy who gave me the photo. He was about my age when I was taken. Skinny, pale, and he didn’t say anything.”

“It’s a sick kind of symbolism,” Sam sneers.

“I believed Willem was in Helena then, but I can’t think of any place that would particularly appeal to his ego. Well, Ava said it was more than ego. Perhaps it’s just his way of life—nothing matters except himself.”

I join my brother at his desk, sitting opposite him, recalling the event at the safe house this morning. Elmo was acting weird. Quinton spilled oatmeal all over himself, I changed him, then Ava disappeared into thin air.

Was it Willem who took her? Would that symbolize that nowhere is safe for her?

Maybe.

But why didn’t he try to take Quinton, too?

Why did he offer me information about my kidnapper in the first place?

I believe Quinton is no longer his main concern. He will eventually attempt to take the boy away, but for now, his primary objective is to make Ava suffer an immediate consequence. What could be more magnificent than causing her to lose me in the very location that represents his triumph?

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