Page 31 of Finding Lord Landry

I could hear the shouting clearly enough to recognize the Spanish words forgo,ransom,now, andhostage.

“Kenji, I’ll pay it! Whatever they ask. I… I… Kenj?—”

A loud slamming sound was accompanied by more shouting, the sound of Kenji exclaiming in surprise, and then nothing.

I stared at the phone in horror when I realized the call had ended. I didn’t dare try calling back in case, by some miracle, he was able to hide his phone on his person before someone saw it and took it away.

My hands shook, and my skin prickled under a cold sweat. I finally glanced up at the flight attendant. “I’m ready. Let’s get this plane off the groundnow.”

He nodded and turned toward the cockpit.

Jim leaned forward, pressing his hands flat on the small table between us. “What happened? Was that him?”

I tried to control my breathing to keep from panicking. “Yeah. He… they… it sounds like there are armed men taking the tourists hostage. At first, they were locked in their rooms, but he said they’re pulling people out of their rooms now. It didn’t sound good.”

Jim’s face turned florid. He took out his phone and began typing, presumably sending texts or emails to update the rescue team and urge them to move faster.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as the plane chased the sunset. I thought about the sun setting on San Cordova, about how violence increases at night, and how the island nation was several hours from Ecuador by boat.

Mostly, I thought about how I wished I’d told Kenji I loved him so that he fully understood that I would do anything in my power to get him out safely… including telling the British prime minister he was my future husband, making a deal with one of our family’s political enemies, and agreeing to throw off years of silence to finally claim my public role as the heir to the Davencourt earldom and serve in the House of Lords.

As the plane shot through the night, the intricate house of cards I’d been building meticulously for fifteen years came tumbling down, leaving a single joker lying facedown in the rubble.

SEVEN

KENJI

I was shaking so hard my teeth were rattling. One of the older men I recognized from the retreat was pale and sweating. His poor wife seemed justifiably concerned for him, but she was obviously too scared to draw attention by asking for help again. The first time she’d tried it, the closest gunman had gotten in her face and barked at her in Spanish while pointing the muzzle of the gun at the husband’s forehead. The woman had quickly clamped her mouth and eyes closed, leaving fat tears falling, accompanied only by the sounds of her jagged breathing.

There were half a dozen armed men in the room, but they didn’t appear to be under any kind of organized command. Several of them were in street clothes, and others were in quasi-military garb. It was unclear who exactly they were or what their plans for us were.

“You’re bleeding,” Lindsey whispered from beside me.

The lively influencer I’d met on the airport transfer van two weeks ago looked shaken and hollow-eyed now, barely recognizable.

I felt the heat of her stare on the side of my face, where the blood was still warm and sticky at the edge of my hairline.

“It’s fine,” I said as softly as possible, keeping my eye on the nearest gunman. My head throbbed from where it had hit the corner of a decorative statue when one of the gunmen had shoved me into the resort’s open-air restaurant. Now, we were all lined up side by side against the long interior wall while the gorgeous summer day and pristine turquoise water outside mocked us.

Here against the wall, there was no breeze to mitigate the oppressive humidity, and I was already covered in sweat and sand. Thankfully, I’d had an elastic band around my wrist when I was pulled from my room, so I was able to get the hair off my neck, at least.

“How long can they possibly keep us?” she asked.

I refused to answer such a ridiculous question. How the hell should I know? It wasn’t like I’d ever been held at gunpoint by an angry mob before. Besides, we wouldn’t have to worry about being released if they killed us first for talking.

“I wish I had my phone,” she whined softly, not for the first time.

I didn’t dare mention I had mine in the pocket of my running tights alongside my passport and a credit card. I’d quickly yanked off the long-sleeve half-zip I’d gone running in and tied it around my waist to hide the phone-shaped bulge on the outside of my thigh.

There was a sudden commotion in the doorway to the restaurant as they brought two more guests in and shoved them toward the group with a shout.

One of them was Jamie.

My heart rate picked up. When he hadn’t been in the group of resort guests, I’d worried something had happened to him, so I was relieved to see him alive and well.

Thankfully, he noticed me, and I made a quick “come here” gesture with my hand. Jamie moved toward me quickly and took a spot on my other side.

“Thank god you’re alright,” he whispered, nudging my shoulder with his.

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