Page 40 of Rett

Casey gave a big smile at the group around her, then saw two identical, incredibly handsome men walking toward them.

“Hey, babe. Hi, ladies. Honey, I’ll be gone for a few days,” said Hawk, kissing Keegan. She nodded, knowing not to ask questions. “We’ll be in Venezuela, but the guys know how to reach us.”

“No,” whispered Casey. “No, you can’t go down there and risk your life.”

“Casey, it’s what we do, sweetie. It’s all good. We promise,” said Eagle. The men walked away, waving at those behind them. Grace took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Trust them, Casey. There is no one you can trust more than the men here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Evie and Autumn flew the team to Aruba, where they rented a deep-sea fishing vessel and headed south. They entered at the mouth of Lake Maracaibo and headed to the small port where they knew they would find Rosalita Ramos. The men took their time, acting as if there were no rush to their day.

They bought bait, rented fishing rods, filled coolers with ice, and then decided to go shopping. According to their informant, Rosalita was allowed to go to the market once a day at the exact same time.

“We’ll get up in the trees,” said Hawk. “Move fast, brother. If we see any problems, we’ll let you know and end them.”

“You guys are the ones that will need to move fast,” said Clay. “You can’t get caught here.”

“Do your thing, brother. We’ll do ours.”

While Clay and Parker grabbed cases of water, soda, and beer just to complete the image of the drunk American fishermen, Kegger walked the aisles of the outdoor market, filling the basket with fruits and vegetables.

Up ahead, he thought he saw a woman that met the description of Rosalita but couldn’t be sure. He casually followed her, trying not to be noticed. When she began speaking to one of the vendors, a young man suddenly appeared, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Keep moving, Rosa. No talking,” he said in Spanish.

“I have to talk to find out what they have,” she said calmly. That’s when Kegger noticed that her jaw seemed out of place.

“Fuck me,” he muttered. “I think they broke her jaw and let it heal that way.”

“I’ve got you in my sights,” said Eagle. “Clay? Give the man a little distraction.”

Clay nodded, stepping off the boat and walking down the dock. There were two men with rifles, so he decided to go for the one in the market first. Moving quickly but not running, he casually reached beneath the hem of his shorts, loosening his prosthetic. When he spotted the man following the woman, he stumbled, falling to the ground. His prosthetic was loose enough that it came off.

Bystanders frowned at the man with the weapon, cursing at him in Spanish, ordering him to help the poor man. He was so taken aback that he knelt down to try and help him. Unfortunately, Clay was going to make that as difficult as possible, fumbling with the prosthetic and acting as if it were his first time attaching it.

“Now, Kegger,” said Hawk.

Kegger continued to follow the woman until he was close enough to speak with her in a low, hushed tone.

“If you’re Rosalita Ramos, nod.” She stilled, almost panicked. Kegger swore he could hear her heartbeat from where he was standing. “I’m an American. I’m a friend.”

She slowly turned, staring at the stranger. Kegger frowned at the disfigured face, knowing that she must be in constant pain.

“You’re going to get in trouble. Just leave me,” she said.

“No. I’m here to get you out.”

“You can’t,” she whispered.

“I can,” he smiled. “Come with me.”

He walked toward a small hut that housed the outdoor bathrooms for the market. Opening the door, she quickly went inside, turning in the small space to be face-to-face with the man.

“They’ll kill us both,” she said.

“No. He wants you alive for some reason.”

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