Page 103 of Storm and Tempest
Was he about to find her?
I don’t have any right to ask. I’ve lost my grip on who I am. Don’t let me lose what I have.
At the center of the island in a clearing about half a mile wide, someone had built a structure many years ago. The windows were yellowed now and shattered, the roof missing in spots and secured with tarps to keep the weather out. A worn-down and weather-beaten former homestead that had hopefully been abandoned decades ago.
On either side, someone had erected huge military-style tents that flapped in the evening breeze coming off the ocean, racing over the trees and dipping down into the clearing.
People in heavy sweaters, beanies, and what looked like insulated jeans walked back and forth, their heads down. Carrying heavy bales of hay, big bags of rice or flour, and boxes with canned goods logos on the side. Unloading—or loading.
“Keep walking.” The gunman jabbed him in the back, between his shoulders.
Jax set off again and was steered toward the tent on the left side whether he wanted to go there or not. All the images they’d been sent of Kenna, she’d looked to have been in medical facilities or the like. Okay, sohehadn’t been sent any.
A fact that Jax was trying not to think about because he didn’t want to contend with the fact everyone else seemed like they’d been sent videos or pictures, and Kenna had been threatened if they didn’t act. But did he get any pictures of his wife?
No.
Whether they thought they could manipulate him…use him…or not didn’t matter. They weren’t using him.
“This way.” The voice behind him wasn’t the one who’d ordered Jax left.
He twisted to look over his shoulder, which didn’t feel good at all. Ramon was being walked in the other direction, along with Bruce. Amara followed the two men with Jax.
“Keep going.”
Jax was shoved, so he breached the front of the tent mid stumble and this time landed his knee on the tarp under his feet.
Amara strode past him to a folding table and metal folding chair, where she sat and opened a file on the table. “What’s the timing on the next delivery?” When she got no answer, she said, “You think I don’t know this is a holding point? When is your next trip to the facility?”
The team lead for the gunmen strode over and closed the file before she could read much. “We have a few hours. Let’s get this done.” But he didn’t turn to Jax. He stayed where he was, both fists planted on the table. Entirely focused on Amara. “Wanna tell me why you brought three of them?”
“They do all this together. Like a team.” She made a face like she thought their efforts were little better than children playacting and chuckled. “They thought they were going to simply walk in your front door. Of course, you want all of them, Roberts.”
Why she chose to use his name then, Jax wasn’t sure. Did she want him to have their designations?
Roberts huffed. “Back to make a habit of ordering people around, I see. That’ll be a nice change.”
Someone behind Jax snickered.
He started to get up off the floor, but the man behind him slammed a hand—and all his weight—on Jax’s shoulder and pushed him back down to his one-knee stance on the floor.
Amara sat back in the chair. “I delivered the goods as promised. I get to escort them to the facility. After all, I wouldn’t want you taking all the credit because I wasn’t there.”
Roberts said, “Good thing you’re nice and early.”
“What is there to do? Wouldn’t hurt to be early.”
Roberts shook his head, pushing off the table and setting his rifle aside. “Stick to the timing. We do not deviate from schedule. So sit tight, shut your mouth, and let us do our jobs.” He glanced at one of his guys and lifted his chin, then went to sit behind another table.
Amara rolled her eyes and left the tent in a huff.
Jax lifted his chin. “Is this when the interrogation starts?”
“Wrong tent.” Roberts lit a cigarette and blew the smoke to his left. “That one has a plastic sheet on the floor.”
One of his men wandered into the tent with a laptop and a webcam. He hooked them up so they pointed toward Jax, then got the chair Amara had been using and set it in front of the table facing the laptop.
Jax wanted to ask if this was a meeting he hadn’t prepped for. But the fact they might be about to put him in contact withKenna drew him with a promise he hadn’t felt in months. Seeing her again—alive.
