Page 11 of Wicked and Bound

Nash nodded tightly, unable to speak past the knot in his throat. He had to believe that or go fucking insane…but after twelve brutal hours of searching, everything felt grim. At least they had something—a lead of sorts. But showing the team what Trees had discovered on that website… Nash’s hands curled into fists.

Wordlessly, he and his brother entered, locking the door behind them. Logan Edgington stuck his head out of the conference room, then motioned them across the shadowy office, past the hodgepodge of desks, and into the chilly room dominated by a big conference table and a bunch of Alpha warriors he called friends. The usually boisterous crew sat in grim silence.

Matt Montgomery sat in his usual seat, but Nash’s step faltered when he spotted the man’s wife, Madison. She shouldn’t be here—spouses weren’t typically involved in operational briefings. But then, this wasn’t typical. This was Haisley. And Madison being Haisley’s best friend had apparently earned her an exception.

The woman looked gutted, and her tear-streaked face told Nash she’d been crying since she’d heard about her best friend’s abduction. The sight twisted his gut. If he was barely holding it together, how must Madison feel? Especially now, when her early pregnancy had her emotions running high.

Hunter and Logan Edgington, along with their stepbrother and business partner, Joaquin Muñoz, stood at the head of the table, their faces carved from stone. One-Mile Walker, their resident sniper, cleaned his rifle with methodical precision while demolitions expert Zy Garrett and fellow operative Preston Kane studied a map. Ethan’s laptop was open, but he wasn’t typing—just staring at the screen with laser focus.

“Tell us everything you found,” Hunter demanded the moment Nash and Trees entered.

As Nash slid into his seat, Trees connected his laptop to the wall monitor.

Logan cut in. “I’ve been working the phones for hours. We have resources lined up. Xander and Javier Santiago are in with some serious hardware—not just cash and their private jet, but military-grade tactical gear and satellite access. Their defense contracts give them toys most people don’t know exist. We’re working with our sister organization, Oracle, too. Their tech expert, Stone Sutter?—”

“The ex-con?” Zy frowned.

“Yeah. Did time for hacking, with a side of identity theft and digital fraud before going straight. Now he’s the best in the business at creating untraceable covers because he knowsexactly what other criminals look for. He’s working with Trees. They’re drafting you a cover based out of DC, using the Jasper King name you requested. High-dollar contracts, import licenses, the works. Enough of a paper trail to withstand scrutiny. Since Callie Thorpe-Mackenzie inherited something north of a hundred million dollars, she’s agreed to pony up more cash as we need it.”

Matt pulled Madison closer, wrapping his jacket around his wife’s shoulders. She sniffed as she wiped her eyes. “My friend Genie Westbrook is good for whatever else we require—money, contacts, help in the administration. She’s got connections everywhere in DC. And I’m liquidating everything I inherited from Todd. Might as well put that bastard’s dirty money to good use. Matt and I both want to help get Haisley back.”

Nash’s throat tightened. These people—this family—were moving heaven and earth to help him save Haisley.

He turned to his brother. “Show them.”

Trees hesitated, sending Nash a worried glance. While he appreciated his older brother’s protectiveness, they didn’t have time for anyone to coddle him. The team had to understand what they were facing.

“Please,” he implored his older brother. “I’m good. I swear.”

Sighing, Trees pulled up the Rugs Direct website, projecting the image on the big screen. “They listed her three hours ago.”

The photo filled the screen. Haisley, stripped of everything but her dignity. Madison choked back a sob, turning her face into Matt’s chest. He whispered something in her ear, his own face tight with rage.

“Jesus Christ,” One-Mile breathed.

“Those sons of bitches,” Zy snarled while Kane’s face went deadly cold.

Even Joaquin, usually unflappable, swore violently in Spanish.

“I traced the IP address,” Trees continued, redirecting everyone’s focus to action rather than emotion. The usual jokes and banter that marked their team meetings were conspicuously absent, replaced by a tension that crackled with the electricity of a lightning storm. “They’re bouncing it through servers all over the world. Took me a while, but I finally found a pattern. Everything routes through the Caribbean eventually. I’ve narrowed it to a cluster of private islands somewhere between Cuba and the Caymans.”

“Show me,” Kane demanded, already on his feet.

While Trees pulled up a topographical map of the area, Hunter turned to Nash. “The background Stone and I are creating for Jasper is solid. Import-export business, specializing in Middle Eastern textiles. You’ve got the capital and connections to be believable. The kind of man who could afford their ‘merchandise.’ To shore up your background, Stone even included a past with a shady flesh peddler from Turkey the CIA took out a few years back.”

Nash’s stomach turned.

“I’m going with you,” Ethan announced. “As your business partner and a fellow participant. If we can rescue more women, we should.”

“I’m coming along.” Kane’s eyes never left the map. “A man with your cover persona would have personal security.”

Matt stepped forward. “I’m signing on, too. I’ll?—”

“No.” Nash’s voice was firm. “Stay here. Take care of Madison. Take care of…” He gestured vaguely at her still-flat stomach. “Your family.”

Understanding crossed Matt’s face. He didn’t like it, but he nodded.

“We’ve got a short window to get Nash’s cover established before they start vetting participants and auction opens,” Trees said. “Can we get it done?”

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