Page 84 of Her Faithful Protector

An urgent knock on the door interrupts my train of thought.

“Jack, Sam,” Cora-Lee says quickly. “I just heard from Gerrard, the pilot of our private jet.”

“He knew we weren’t flying, didn’t he?” I ask.

“Yes, he’s fully aware of the situation, and he’s been helping us. A plane took off from a private airstrip in Wolf Creek. There was nothing extraordinary there, but apparently, the owner of the plane was initially concerned about one of the passengers—a woman who looked heavily drugged. The two guys with her kept insisting the flight was for a medicalemergency that only her specialist could handle, so he let his pilot fly them.”

“Let me guess. Her so-called specialist is in L.A.?” I say.

Sam’s head snaps toward me in surprise while Cora-Lee responds to me, “Uh-huh. And the plane was last seen near Van Nuys, twenty miles from L.A. There’s no sign of the pilot.”

I lock eyes with Sam, clenching a fist on his desk. “I know where Willem’s lair is.”

Sam instructs Cora-Lee, “Tell Gerrard to be on standby.”

“Righto, boss,” she answers and leaves the office.

“Do you think Quinton can stay at your house tonight?” I ask Sam.

“Of course,” he answers. “I’ll get Comet and Ben to drive the kiddo to my place. Cass will only be too happy to have him.”

Then my brother puts on his holster.

“Where are you going?” I nod at his gear.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“The hell I am!”

While I wish he was coming with me, I won’t let him take part in this rescue. He’s about to become a father again, and I cannot jeopardize anything for him or his family. “I know about it, Sam.”

He sighs, knowing what I’m referring to. “So Cass told you?”

“This isn’t your battle.”

“You’re my brother. Your battle is my battle. I won’t let you?—”

“I’m not planning to go alone,” I anticipate what he’s going to say. Then I request, “Give me Tyler.”

Sam reluctantly puts his holster away. “All right. He’ll meet you at the airport.”

“We’ve got this. I’ll keep you posted.”

He pats my shoulder, then pulls me into a hug. “Bring her back.”

I nod firmly. She’s a mother held captive by a deranged man. Whatever it takes, I’ll bring her home.

31

AVA

My head hangs low, lazily swaying back and forth. A thin stream of saliva trickles down my mouth as I part my lips. Exhaustion weighs on my eyelids, making them feel like they have been closed for an eternity. I try hard to lift my head, but then I’m hit with an intense pain in my neck and a queasy sensation. Without warning, the contents of my stomach erupt, spilling onto the floor.

“I apologize, darling. It seems you cannot handle the double dose of sedatives,” the unmistakable voice of Willem Botha assaults my ears, his amused tone unsettling. “To be fair, it’s your own fault.”

A hand grips my chin, forcing me to drink. Not even my lips are under my control, but thankfully, it’s water.

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