My heart was no longer inside my chest. It was gone, thousands of miles in the air with Jada. I felt frozen and furious all at the same time. The heavy breathing in the car was the only sound. Cillian’s and Terrence’s faces were dark and stormy. I assumed they matched mine.
“What the fuck just happened?” I demanded.
Cillian braked hard, tires squealing to a stop on the runway. He pulled out his phone, logging in and bringing up an app. A red dot blinked on the screen, and he closed his eyes for a brief second as if relieved. “She has the bracelet on.”
It was a statement more than a question. “Yes.”
“They’re flying north and not out over the Pacific. I don’t think he’s taking her to Japan.”
“He shouldn’t have been able to take her at all!” I snarled.
Cillian spoke into his mic to the other vehicle, then did a U-turn and headed back the way we’d come toward the main highway.
“We’ll follow the plane,” he said.
Terrence looked from Cillian to me and then back to his boss. “You had her tagged?”
Cillian nodded.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Terrence looked pissed. Offended.
“For good reason, it seems,” Cillian growled.
My knee was throbbing wildly. My feet were shredded from the gravel on the drive that I’d run down, following the departing car with Jada inside it. My knuckles were bruised from pounding on the roof of the sedan. My heart slammed against my rib cage, twisting and burning. I couldn’t lose her. Not after everything we’d shared. Not after finally breaking through her walls.
I was wearing nothing but the jeans I’d pulled on when I’d realized Jada wasn’t in bed with me. I’d gone in search of her, unsure what had woken me. I still wasn’t sure if it had simply been her absence or the fear she’d exuded. Fear for me. She’d do anything to make sure the people around her weren’t hurt…even going with her father.
My stomach lurched, and nausea shifted through me.
I wouldn’t let her sacrifice herself for me. For anyone.
We’d left two of the men at Vanya’s down, but not dead. They’d been tranquilized with darts. Armando had stayed behind to make sure they recovered. That left five men with us—six if I included myself, but I wasn’t an expert on any kind of recovery mission. I was a rich playboy who dabbled in boat racing and business deals.
“Do you really think someone at the cottage gave away our location?” Terrence’s eyes narrowed on Cillian.
“Yes!” I growled before my bodyguard could. I pulled a foot up to take a look at the injuries, to remove gravel from the wounds. My knee protested, and I hissed.
Terrence noticed.
“He’s hurt,” he said to Cillian.
Cillian’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.
“I’m fine. Scrapes. Keep driving.”
Cillian looked back at me before returning his eyes to the road.
“You need clothes.”
I did, but it could wait until we figured out where they were taking Jada.
Cillian was driving at speeds that Dawson would have enjoyed as a speed junkie. He drove both our boats and his cars with the pace of a born racer. My stomach turned again. Dawson would be furious that I’d lost her, but it was nothing compared to the anger I felt toward myself and my team. I’d let her slip away. I’d let her silent pleas and a gun in my face stop me from fighting harder.
I slammed my fist into the seat again, this time the one next to me.
“We’re going to get her back,” Terrence said with a fierceness that should have comforted me but didn’t. Where was that fierceness when she’d needed it?
We’d been driving up the freeway for at least thirty minutes before Cillian spoke again. “They’re landing in San Francisco.”