Page 108 of Storm and Tempest
Jax’s head swam, his body a mass of pain and his arm limp by his side. The plastic ties securing it to the other hand put his shoulder at an angle that made him want to throw up again, but there was nothing in his stomach.
Three speedboats in a V formation, the one they were in at the lead.
Roberts piloted theirs, a coat on now instead of the vest over his shirt—with those two bullets embedded in it. They were alldressed for the weather out here, except Jax and Bruce. But if they were only bringing them out here to be killed, they’d surely have done it already.
Water ran down Jax’s face, and he didn’t know if it was sweat or sea spray.
The boat eased to a stop at a dock at the bottom of the platform, thirty or maybe fifty feet below the main level. Far above the swell of the icy waves, so cold the temperature numbed a person before they even realized they’d fallen in. His head swam trying to gauge the distance.
Right now, that sounded good. His shoulder would certainly stop hurting.
But this close to Kenna? There was no way he was going to do anything to jeopardize what happened next. He had to get her back.
I trust You.
The balance was there, his flesh versus his spirit. A husband’s need to find his wife coming up against the desire God had placed in Jax to surrender to His will no matter what happened next.
He had to balance the two, admit what he wanted whether it was right or not, and decide to trust God for the outcome. Faith would come in the mix. Soon enough he would have his answer, and no matter what, he would do his best to give glory to God.
Your will be done.
He knew what he wanted, but that was going to be given to God as well.
Surrender.
Two men lifted Jax by his arms. The world swam around him, and he dropped to his knees.
“Geez, you guys really messed him up.”
Jax got his orientation settled without falling into the water and followed Bruce down the dock, then to a walkway that led toa set of stairs. The stretches of steel steps doubled back on each other again and again until they were at the top.
“This way.” Roberts led them down a walkway, the building on one side looking a whole lot like a warehouse and on the other side a railing and nothing before a person hit the frozen water below. The impact would feel like jumping from a thirty-story building onto concrete.
Roberts slid a key through a card reader, and the display turned green. He pushed through a set of double doors into a white corridor lit with overhead lights so bright it was like San Diego in July. Jax winced against the intense glow and trudged after Bruce, keeping his focus on the man’s back with every step.
One foot in front of the other, over and over.
Each step one closer to Kenna.
Another set of doors led them to a lab. A man turned from his work, rows of test tubes in racks in front of him. To the side, he had microscopes. Jax even spotted a mass spectrometer. He was a man that Kenna had killed months ago.
“Last time I saw you,” Jax said, “you were a stiff at the morgue. A bullet in your chest. Lights out.”
“I’m aware.” Marcus Buzard removed his glasses and tucked them into the breast pocket of his lab coat. “After all, I’ve seen him for myself.”
“Right. You guys steal bodies a lot?” Jax looked around.
“She isn’t here.”
“Where is she?”
Buzard waved his hand. “All in due time.”
“No.” Jax stepped forward. “Now.”
Buzard seemed to find that amusing, while no one else said anything. “Have a seat, I’ll take a look at that shoulder.”
“No, thanks.” He glanced at his friend. “Bruce, how about you?”
