3. Warner
CHAPTER 3
WARNER
COEXIST – HAVE MERCY
“Useless fucking thing!”
Overwhelmed by frustration, I battle my new prosthetic to click the socket into place over the liner. It’s a newer model my specialist sold me on, but it’s always a learning curve when I get a new leg.
You’d have thought that after almost ten years, I’d be a master at wielding a prosthetic. I’ve gotten through enough of them while adapting to life as an amputee after the accident.
Titanium. Aluminium. Carbon fibre. Even fibreglass. If a manufacturer makes it, I’ve tried it. Still, there are days when I push too hard, stupidly believing I can outrun my own body.
When I repeat that mistake, I have to go without the prosthetic to recover. On those long, wheelchair-bound days, I work from the penthouse I share with my teammates where my struggles can’t be seen by outsiders.
Or I did before our recent long-term work placement in Mexico. The heat aggravates my residual limb further, making it more difficult to be mobile. But I’m not a complainer, and I won’t leave until we find her.
Alive or… well, alive.
I won’t entertain another possibility.
“You all good in here?” Axel pokes his head around the door, waggling his eyebrows. “You’re not supposed to insult the new leg, you know.”
“It doesn’t have feelings.” I sigh loudly.
“I bet John Connor said the same thing before he had a freaking terminator on his ass. Not so fun insulting the machines when they rise up, is it?”
As much as I appreciate our newest and youngest team member’s perpetual playfulness, I am in no mood for his teasing today.
“You got something for me, Ax?”
Stepping into the shitty motel room, he bobs his head, though his obnoxiously bright, purple-dyed faux hawk doesn’t move. He spends a stupid amount of time styling it each damn morning.
Axel has fully embraced the teen runaway look, despite being a fully grown man. His revolving wardrobe of oversized slogan shirts and ripped jeans match his baby face and bee-stung lips. The head-to-toe tattoos are another thing altogether.
“Picked up some online chatter on the dark web about an incident down south near Chilpancingo, but nothing concrete. Just a few players murmuring about a search party.”
“Searching for what?”
He shrugs. “Beats me.”
“Fine. Monitor it.”
“Already sent a request to the intelligence team in London. Kade told me to suck a dick for waking him up at 2 am.”
“Charming,” I mutter.
“Isn’t he just?” Axel rolls his eyes.
Head shaking, I refocus on fitting my prosthetic. With some gentle manoeuvring, the socket finally clicks into place. I stretch the stiff limb out, testing the weight. It always feels odd at first.
Axel whistles dramatically. “Nice. You had it shipped from the UK?”
“Sure did. We don’t know when we’ll go home. I’m not being uncomfortable and in pain until then.”
“That’s fair.”
Climbing to my feet, it takes a moment to adjust to the foreign sensation. This new model is cutting-edge, the best money can buy. It still doesn’t replace the right leg I dream about at night.
“I miss my bed.” Axel’s heavily-inked arms fold across his chest. “And Mary’s bagels. Reckon she’d ship some out here for us?”
“All the way across the Atlantic Ocean?”
“Yes!”
Honey-hued eyes curving into a puppy dog look, Axel juts out his bottom lip. It’s an insane expression on a thirty-year-old who I’ve seen break every bone in man’s leg in alphabetical order before.
He will play the jokester until the cows come home, but since he joined us, recent investigations have taught me that our new transfer from MI-5 is the most dangerous of us all.
Axel is even more violent than our team enforcer. Not to mention utterly unhinged when the jokes cease. You know what to expect with Hyland, but Axel will skin a man alive while wondering what to eat for dinner.
“Sure.” I shrug.
“Hell yeah! Really?”
“If you want a box full of mouldy crumbs to arrive two months later, then yes. Call her.”
He deflates, the swirls of black ink that completely cover his throat barely concealing the way his Adam’s apple lurches. It feels somewhat akin to kicking an excited toddler who wants candy.
Not like I’ve done that.
“It’s unkind to tease, you know.”
“Life is fucking unkind, Ax.”
“You don’t have to help it!” He throws his arms up in annoyance. “Pay for your own tacos tonight.”
“Technically speaking, I am your boss. And that is a business credit card. So I’m paying for my own tacos tonight and every night.”
“Bloody smartass,” he grumbles.
Watching him stomp off, I pull on a fresh shirt. After staking out a local underground club all night—rife with illegal fights and prostitution—we didn’t sleep until midday. A matter of hours later, duty calls once more.
Every time I think we’re getting close to a breakthrough, it’s snatched from our fingers all over again. I’m getting tired of delivering my weekly phone call to Tom with no updates.
Mexico is a vast country, seven times bigger than our patch of land back in the United Kingdom. Sure, we’ve dealt with criminal conspiracies, illegal empires that rival the royal family in wealth and even government corruption before.
Nothing this large-scale.
And nothing this personal.
Sabre Security is the finest private investigative firm in the UK. Our fearsome reputation is second to none. Ever since the groundbreaking Blackwood Institute case nearly a decade ago, we’ve conducted business in the limelight.
We only take the hardest criminal cases, the ones that no one else can crack. The kind that takes years’ worth of painstaking work, the best investigators and unlimited resources.
I’ve headed up our division—the Anaconda Team—alone since my partner moved to live in the middle of nowhere. After all this time and years of military service before joining Sabre, it’s safe to say I feel comfortable in enemy territory.
Then I came here.
We’ve tackled human trafficking cases before. One of my best pieces of work was wrapping up a case a few years back, granting the young mother justice when she fled a depraved individual who forced her into marriage.
We’re still unravelling the complex web that huge case exposed. It takes time to identify an intricate ring of traffickers, mobsters and criminal masterminds wreaking havoc.
Our continuing work became personal when my best friend’s sister was kidnapped. When she vanished into thin air, several exhaustive investigations pointed towards human trafficking.
Ember.
Just her name fills me with grief and pain.
Weeks of searching turned to months, and months turned to agonising years. From the intel we’ve gained and tied to a complex ecosystem of cartels and trafficking rings, we’ve moved our search to Mexico.
“Warner!” Hyland hollers through the door.
“Yeah?”
“Coffee. We’re late.”
“Alright, I’m coming.”
Staring into my vivid-blue eyes, the vibrant gleam dulled by exhaustion, I hate to admit that we’re getting nowhere. This web is a living, breathing manifestation of evil. Constantly shifting and changing, throwing us in all directions as we search for evidence.
After six years, the likelihood of finding Ember alive feels remote, let alone finding her at all. We’re searching for a needle in a haystack, chasing ghosts in a country that’s suited to quick disappearances.
Limbs heavy with fatigue, I head out into the small kitchenette that connects our two rooms. Hyland is crouched over an ancient-looking coffee machine, scowling at the blinking red light.
“Why is it still cold?” he asks the lifeless pot. “You stupid lump of junk.”
“Careful. Axel will tell you off for being mean to the machines.”
“Go fuck yourself,” the man in question hollers from their shared bedroom. “I hope Arnold Schwarzenegger kills you.”
“If I get a break from you, I’m game!” I shout back.
Clapping Hyland’s massive shoulder as I pass feels like petting the face of a mountain. At well over six foot two, he outweighs us all in size, height and muscle. The man is the walking embodiment of overgrown brawn.
His shoulder-length, dirty-blonde hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail today, leaving his glower front and centre. Not even his olive-green eyes, full lips or wide, flat nose can soften his perpetually furrowed brows.
The toothy smile he occasionally unleashes does counteract his monstrous height and grumpy disposition, but it’s reserved for family only. And nine times out of ten, we get gruff Hyland, not gentle Hyland.
“You get some sleep?”
“Some,” he grunts.
“We need to see who arrives for the club’s night shift. That government official was approving shipments for the cartel for years. If Ember was in one of them, she passed through here.”
“Women,” Hyland corrects.
“What?”
“I said women.” He stabs a thumb into the control pad. “Not shipments.”
“You know what I meant.”
“We’re talking about people here.”
“Shit, man. I bloody know!” Tiredness coupled with frustration causes me to erupt. “And she could be one of them!”
Turning my back on him to grab coffee cups, I feel my mobile phone vibrating in my trouser pocket. Probably Kade calling to try his luck moaning to me about the late-night wake up call.
“All it takes is one sighting.” I reach for three mugs, setting them on the stained countertop. “This venue funnels victims from across the globe through its doors. She could’ve come through.”
“We need to shut it down.”
“And we will. As soon as we’ve verified whether Ember was there. I don’t want to spook the owner—it’s a front for the Gael cartel, and we both know it.”
“Do we?” he chuffs.
My curled fist slams against the countertop, rattling the empty mugs. I’ve been awake for ten minutes, and already I’m fighting the urge to batter my teammates.
“What is your problem, Hyland?”
My phone stills in my pocket as I stare up at him. His narrowed, moss-coloured gaze is full of challenge. I know how hard it is for him to be away from home, but I’m not going back to England without answers.
“I want to finish this just as much as you do.” He forces a calmer, even tone. “But after all this time… don’t you think it’s cruel to keep getting Tom’s hopes up?”
“He’s my best friend.” I blow out a tense breath.
“Exactly. You should be helping him move on.”
“And if it were someone you loved out there? Lost and alone? Could you move on?”
Eyes lowering, he stares down at his long, tree trunk legs. “No.”
“Then don’t lecture me.”
Taking the coffeepot to pour myself some liquid patience, regardless of whether it’s hot or cold, I cast him a final glare then retreat to the window to drink. I know he’s exhausted. Fed up. Impatient. We all are.
That doesn’t mean we quit.
Not in this business.
Studying the few old cars parked up outside, I focus on slowing my rapid breathing. As team leader, it’s my job to keep my cool. I’m the level head guiding two fearsome weapons to their targets.
But fuck if they don’t get under my skin sometimes. We’re a close-knit team, and like any family of choice, we live in each other’s pockets. That makes us strong. Reliable. Dependable.
It also means we drive one another crazy. Especially on long, emotional cases like these. I love them both like family, and I’m proud of our team, but that doesn’t make this career even remotely easier.
Vibrating emanates from my pocket again, forcing me to tug my phone out. I’m going to chew Kade out for being so impatient. I don’t care if he and his brother pay my salary now.
Two words light up the screen, giving me pause.
Unknown number.
Staring at the phone, I wait for the call to ring out. I’m not looking to get scammed by whoever’s purchased my personal number from some dodgy online data broker.
I’ve barely swallowed my next mouthful of lukewarm coffee when it starts to vibrate again. Still flashing the same words— Unknown number. They’re persistent.
You know what? Fine. I’ll take my frustrations out on whichever unlucky twat chose me to harass. Smashing the accept button, I take another gulp of the gross coffee.
“What?”
A dead silence answers me.
“Is someone there?”
More strange quietness, stretching long enough to send unease down my spine.
“Warner Mead speaking.”
I think I hear faint breathing. The featherlight sound tickles the receiver, making me hesitate before disconnecting the call.
“Hello?”
“Langley. It’s me.”
I’m faintly aware of my fingers releasing the coffee cup, causing it to crash to the floor. Not even the loud smashing sound the impact creates can pierce the intense ringing that fills my ears.
Surely… it can’t be.
“Langley,” the ghostly whisper repeats. “Are you there?”
Shock nearly bowls me over.
“Em?” I croak.
Even as children, Langley was a silly nickname. The kind invented when kids create make-believe characters, horsing around outside during those endless, hot summers after school finished.
Sometimes, I watched my best friend’s little sister while he cared for their sick mum. Even if she was five years younger than us, I liked playing with her. I was always a secret agent—code name Langley —while she was an astronaut.
I later adopted my made-up character’s name when I needed a cover story for an undercover job. Ember laughed when I told her about the false identity I used once the Harrowdean case was wrapped up and I was back home.
Grabbing the window ledge to hold myself up, I clutch the phone hard enough to crack the plastic case.
“Ember?”
Shock, panic and disbelief battle for supremacy inside my misfiring brain as footsteps behind me abruptly still.
“Fuck. Em? Is that really you?”
“I n-need help.” The line crackles, relaying movement on the other end. “He told me to call you.”
My heart somersaults, twisting and turning faster than a fucking laundry machine. It takes great effort to unlock my jaw and suck in a breath.
“It is you.”
“Yeah,” she wheezes. “Surprise.”
“I… Shit. Shit!”
Her breathing catches, pushing me to focus up.
“Are you safe?” The words escape me in a rush.
When she doesn’t immediately respond, I feel like my mind is on the verge of a cataclysmic implosion. I’m struggling to remain upright as it is.
“Answer me! Fuck!”
“N-No.” Ember releases a painful-sounding hiss. “Need h-help. Please.”
“Jesus Christ, Em. I can’t believe it’s you.”
Tapping my shoulder, Hyland frantically waves to gain my attention. Axel has set his laptop atop the cramped bar connected to the kitchenette, his fingertips already racing.
“We can track this call. Stay connected. Where are you?”
Placing the phone on speaker, I rush over to Axel so he can plug it into his laptop. We’re all linked to Sabre’s secure server, giving us access to its vast wealth of shady technical capabilities.
“Something about an airport,” she replies faintly. “Acapulco.”
“Acapulco?” Hyland repeats.
I offer him a jerky nod.
“That’s southern Mexico,” he confirms. “Not far from where that trouble they’re all talking about online went down.”
Axel keeps his attention focused on the laptop screen. “They’re searching for her.”
Terror razes through my extremities. “Fucking hell. Ember, what happened?”
When she doesn’t respond again, I shout her name into the phone. The terror blooming inside me has grown legs and arms. Now it’s climbing into my internal cavities to launch a full-scale invasion.
“They’re coming for me.” Her voice sounds so strained and raw. “I’m not safe here.”
“Hold tight, Em. We’re going to find you.”
“Please hurry,” she begs, sounding so unlike herself.
“I’ve got you. Are you hurt?”
Endless possibilities ping-pong around the inner confines of my skull. I can’t begin to think about what might have happened to her. Or what price she paid to escape long enough to call me.
How did she even get this number?
“I’m alive,” she croaks.
“That’s a start. I can’t begin to explain how good the sound of your voice is.”
Her barely restrained sob tests my mental restraint. Goddammit. I’ve never heard her make that sound before. Not even when they lowered her only parent into the cold, hard ground.
“Y-Yours too.”
“We never stopped searching for you.” I push past the brick that’s landed in my throat. “Not once. Just took us a long time to trace you this far.”
“This far?”
“We’re in Mexico.”
“Wait, what?” she splutters.
“Farther north than your location, but in the country. We’re tracing a ring of trafficking gangs bankrolling illegal clubs, searching for any signs of you.”
“Shit.” Ember laughs though it sounds more broken than amused. “You were here all along.”
“Trying to track your crazy backside down to bring you back home.” I smile despite my searing eyes.
“Glad to hear it.”
“Listen, can you take cover? We’re a few hours away.”
“I’m in the middle of nowhere,” she replies.
“Then walk a bit. Look for a hiding spot.”
Ember sucks in a stuttered breath, riddled with agony. “Walking is tough right now.”
“Why?”
“I’m a bit roughed up. Long story.”
Cursing colourfully, Hyland fists his long waves. I give him the side-eye, indicating for him to take a breather. The grump isn’t as thick-skinned as he’d have us believe. Especially not after recent years.
“What’s around you?” I ask urgently.
“Sand. Mountains. A cactus or two.”
“Keep looking. Were you followed?”
“Not here,” she rasps. “They bought me some time.”
Suspicion fills my mind. “Who did?”
“Oh, shit! I think I can see a farm in the distance.”
“Nowhere near people!” Hyland reappears, clamping a hand around my bicep. “We don’t know who you can trust or who’s bought and paid for.”
“Thanks, whoever the fuck you are,” Ember snarks. “That thought didn’t cross my mind.”
“Pretty sure you’ve met Hyland before.” I laugh from the acute relief of hearing her sass. “He’s a permanent member of the team now.”
“Erm… the huge, grumpy asshole with the stupid hairdo?” She puffs between the sound of crunching footsteps. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Glad to hear from you too,” Hyland scoffs under his breath.
“Got her!” Axel shouts excitedly.
We crowd around him to look over his shoulder at the screen. He’s geolocated the call to a remote stretch of countryside not far from the town or its coastal airport.
“Find us a helicopter,” I instruct him. “Offer the pilot double if we can get wheels up in under an hour.”
“I’m on it,” he quips.
“We’ll need to find a private airstrip to request the Sabre jet for evac too. Call HQ to update them.”
“Way ahead of you. I’ll wake the boss up again.”
“Good luck.” Picking up my phone, I click the speakerphone off. “We’re coming for you, Em. You need to sit tight.”
“Okay,” she replies in a rush of breath. “Um, my brother. Is he… okay?”
“Yeah. Tom’s doing fine. He calls me for an update on the search weekly.”
“Oh my god… After all this time?”
“None of us ever stopped looking.”
It’s getting nearly impossible to talk around the boulder of repressed emotion that’s growing in my tight chest. I doubt it’ll shift until I can lay eyes on her myself and verify she’s real. Alive. Safe.
“He never stopped hoping you’d be found. Not once.”
Her sniffles intensify into outright cries that scratch at my battered heart. Hearing her weep is tearing me apart inside. All I want is to hold her in my arms and make it all better.
“We’ll be there soon. I promise. Hold on for me?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Good girl,” I praise emotionally.
We need to haul ass, but the thought of hanging up on her is literally unbearable. Hyland is already stomping between our two rooms, tossing equipment and suitcases into the living space at random.
“Thank you for not forgetting me,” Ember whispers in a tiny voice.
“Forget you?” I repeat in disbelief.
“Well, it’s been… Shit, six years.”
That’s the final straw for the throbbing organ in my chest.
“It could’ve been sixty years, and I’d still be searching for you.”
I’m not sure I’ll have a job to return to once my superiors see the bill for our helicopter ride into Acapulco’s small airport. We had to bribe the pilot with triple his standard fare to speed up the entire process and bypass official checks.
Even so, it’s been almost five hours since we received her call. Five hours since the entire world shifted on its axis. Five hours since I got the first shred of hope that I could bring my best friend’s sister home alive.
Sliding behind the wheel of the first rental car we could lay our hands on, Hyland assumes control of driving. I’m too on edge to even think about navigating the dusty roads right now.
We haven’t heard from Ember since we landed under the cover of night. Our subsequent phone calls have gone unanswered, the line clicking without connecting. Best case scenario… the phone she’s using has died.
Worse case… I’m not considering that.
“Buckle up.” Hyland fires up the engine.
Checking the magazine of my semi-automatic pistol, I focus on the solid weight of it clasped in my hand while he drives. I’m not a nervous person, far from it. I’ve faced enough life and death situations to master my fight-or-flight response.
But having a loved one caught in the line of fire evokes a different feeling. The lack of control, endless what if scenarios… It’s all too much to hold inside without splitting apart at the seams.
I’d love to unload this round into the motherfucker who did this to Ember in the first place. As soon as she’s secured, hunting down the scum who harmed her is going to be my first priority.
“Take the highway,” Axel shouts from the backseat. “Head east. I’ll holler when you need to turn.”
“Hold tight,” Hyland warns.
Praying to God that no airport worker is watching us abuse their rental car’s engine, we race out of the half-full garage. It’s late at night now, and the roads are quiet. Luckily, May is a slow season for tourism.
“Where was her last location?” I ask over my shoulder.
There’s tapping on a keyboard.
“She moved about a mile or so to the north,” Axel replies distractedly. “Looks like farmland. There are a whole bunch of coffee production sites around there.”
“With any luck, she’s still there.”
“She will be.” Hyland bobs his head with certainty.
A sour-faced asshole or not, he knows exactly what to say when push comes to shove. Hyland is a steady, albeit gruff presence in our chaotic lifestyle. And I’m thankful for that.
Though his steadiness is being called into question by his alarming driving right now. We blast past idling vehicles and bright road signs without taking time to consider the consequences.
“Have you called Tom?” Hyland’s gaze briefly shifts to me.
“Not yet.”
“You need to call him.”
“I will once she’s secured. He’ll want to speak to her.”
Mouth tightening, Hyland swerves around what appears to be a loaded cattle truck driving at a snail’s pace. My shoulder smashes into the car door while Axel curses from the backseat.
“How far, pup?” Hyland barks.
“Not that nickname. Come on, dude.”
“What? It’s appropriate.”
“We’re not having this argument again. Don’t think I won’t make good on my threats to slit your throat.” Axel’s fingers click away. “It’s about eight miles.”
“Shit,” I spit. “Keep calling her.”
“The line’s dead,” he points out.
“I don’t care! Keep trying!”
Summoning the good sense not to argue with me, Axel resumes dialling Ember’s number from his own phone. I drop a hand to my right thigh, tracing the ridge where my residual limb meets the prosthetic socket.
If she’s slipped between our fingers now that we’re this close to bringing her home, I’ll never be able to face myself again. Let alone her brother. Ember’s life is in my fucking hands.
Hyland keeps his attention fixed on our surroundings as we speed past. “We will find her.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He shrugs a huge shoulder. “Because we won’t rest until we do.”
“You’ve changed your tune from earlier.”
“We’re all allowed moments of doubt.” Hyland sighs tiredly. “I haven’t seen my son in five months. Can you blame me for being downbeat?”
Swallowing my guilt, I cast him a tight smile. “I guess not. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologise. I know it’s been hard for you too. We all want Ember found.”
Lapsing into tense silence, the screaming of the car’s engine fills the time it takes to eat up each mile between us and Ember. The closer we get, the tighter Hyland grips the steering wheel.
“Right here!” Axel shouts, his purple-haired head popping between the seats. “Last location was the outskirts of the farm up ahead.”
All around us, the stiflingly hot night causes a haze that muddies our line of sight. We turn off the road then onto an unlit track, the dirt peppered with pebbles and surrounded by sandy plumes.
Each time the car jerks, my heart leaps into my mouth. I swear, infiltrating a hostile encampment in the Sahara desert with no backup was less nerve-racking than this.
“Pull over here.” Axel slams his laptop shut.
“Right here?”
“We need to go on foot.”
Throwing the car door open, I swing my prosthetic out first, using the frame to haul myself up. All around us, the hum of angry cicadas fills the still air.
We’re surrounded by fields of towering, glossy coffee plants, the elongated leaves shining in the moonlight. Axel points towards the field on our right, accessible by a narrow dirt track.
“We’ll never find her out here,” Hyland mutters, scanning the nearly black landscape. “Why didn’t we grab flashlights?”
“It’s pretty deserted,” Axel muses.
“Yeah, we haven’t seen anyone for a while. No residential buildings near the farm fields either.”
“Why?” I wonder, suspicion chilling my blood.
Cupping his tattooed hands around his mouth, Axel throws his head back. “EMBER!”
Both Hyland and I physically recoil at the ear-splitting screech. The little shit has the most ridiculous pair of lungs on him.
“For fuck’s sake, Ax!” Hyland hisses furiously.
“What? It’s efficient.”
“It’s going to rain down hell on our heads!”
Ignoring him, his hands remain cupped. “It’s been a while since I had any fun. EMB?—"
Curled fist snapping out, Hyland thumps him in the shoulder. Axel’s loud yell is cut off by the blow, causing him to yelp instead, shooting our resident enforcer a dirty look.
“You got a better plan? Like searching the entire farm?”
“Yes!” Hyland booms. “This is a stealth mission.”
“You wouldn’t know what stealth means if it slapped you around the face!”
“You’re such a little bastard.”
“Aw. Thanks for the compliment.”
“It wasn’t a fucking com?—"
“Shut up, the pair of you!” I snap at them. “Listen.”
In the insect-filled murkiness, a distant shout can be heard. It’s hard to tell if it’s male or female. The weak sound is far off, carried through the sweltering air.
“Use your phones.” Axel pulls his out, lighting up the torch. “Better than nothing.”
Hyland follows suit, gesturing for me to follow. “Cover us, Warner.”
Unholstering my pistol, we all take off, using the shout as a homing beacon. With the track winding and barely lit by their phones, leafy roughage pulls at our arms and legs as we move through the vegetation.
When the shouting falls silent, I take a leaf out of Axel’s playbook and yell at the top of my lungs. We’d know about it by now if any assailants were out here searching with us.
The voice comes again, louder this time.
“That way.” Hyland points to the left.
Gun locked in both hands, I follow them through the swaying crops. We move painstakingly slow, dodging roots and thin branches, until the sound of gasping is clearly audible.
Tucking my weapon back into my side holster, I gesture for Axel to hand me his phone. The light beam offers a little visibility into the plants that whisper with quiet cries.
“Wait here.”
“You sure?” Hyland frets.
“Yes. I don’t want to scare her.”
Both nod, allowing me to advance alone. My raging heartbeat roars in my ears, pumping unease and anticipation into my nervous system.
“Em? You out here?”
There’s a sniffle in the barely lit din.
“It’s Warner. Come out, Em. I’m here.”
Swinging the light from side to side, I search for any signs of life in the gloom. The first rustles of movement on my right cause me to whip around, my heart a frantically flapping hummingbird locked in my chest.
“Warner?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Is it… s-safe?” The voice trembles.
“Yes, Em. We’re here now. You’re safe.”
A long-limbed shape limps through two coffee plants. The phone’s light offers me the first glimpse of brilliant, flaming-red hair, a far cry from the expensive bleach-blonde job she used to proudly wear.
Six years of grief, anguish and absolute fucking hopelessness hammers through me at breakneck speed. Every night I’ve laid awake, wishing I could save the girl I once knew and alleviate my best friend’s pain. That I could give him the one person he needed.
Ember.
The inflamed expanse of her oval-shaped face is obscured by violent, dark bruises. Ember’s almost unrecognisable beneath the evidence of fists pummelling her to a pulp, she’s so swollen.
Even when I illuminate her blood-spattered, scantily clad frame, I’m struggling to recognise her. The girl that I grew up with got into plenty of scraps, but this looks like a life-threatening beating.
With one black eye clamped shut, a single blue-grey orb fixes solely on me. She’s wearing a loose sweatshirt and tight spandex shorts that leave her scratch-covered but muscular legs on display.
While working as a personal trainer, Ember was always trim. Yet the muscles that I can see in her thighs and calves now seem bulkier than before. Different. Just like the blonde tips of her outgrown hair.
“Warner,” she whimpers.
“Oh, Em.”
“You’re real.”
“Hell yeah, I am.” I hold my arms open for her. “Come here, love.”
Despite being visibly injured, she runs full speed into me. Our bodies smack together amidst the rustling plants, her hands snaking around my waist while her tearstained face buries in my chest.
“I’ve got you now,” I reassure around tears.
Her shoulders shake up and down, betraying her silent sobs. Every inch of her is trembling like she’s wired up to a live car battery. I hate how cripplingly terrified she is.
“W-Warner,” she keens.
“Shh. I’m here.”
“I w-was so scared…”
“I know, love. I know.”
Holding Ember close, I take a deep inhale of her beautiful, tumbling red hair. It smells foul... Dirt, sweat and an aged, coppery fragrance that sets my teeth on edge. She’s covered in dried blood.
“You’re really here.”
“It’s me.” I stroke my hand up and down her shaking back. “Breathe for me.”
“I d-didn’t know if you’d come.”
“Like I’d ever let my little astronaut down.”
Weak sobs rattle over her. “You’re still a sweetheart.”
“Don’t tell my teammates that, Em.”
The sound of the other two approaching isn’t enough to make me surrender her. We’ve never been touchy feely—I respect her brother too much for that—but it feels so damn good to hold her at last.
When her trembles subside some, I reluctantly push Ember back for a closer inspection. We’re similar in height, giving me a good vantage point to see just how banged up she is.
“How bad are you injured?”
Licking her split lip, she nervously glances at the others. “I’m alive.”
“You need a hospital.”
“No. I just want to get out of here.”
“Em—”
“No! Please let’s just go. No hospital.”
The high-pitched urgency in her voice is enough to alarm me. For all her bravery, she seems to be mere seconds from losing it. I’m not going to expedite that process while we’re exposed.
Reluctantly bobbing my head, I gesture around our small group. “Okay. You know Hyland, and this is our new team member, Axel.”
Rocking on his heels, Axel offers her an enthusiastic wave. “It’s so good to meet you!”
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Okay, first up.” Axel claps his hands together. “Is there anyone out here I need to kill? I only need a sec to sharpen my switchblade.”
“Get in line, pup,” Hyland rumbles.
“Again with the nickname?”
“Ignore them.” I keep a firm grip on Ember’s elbow. “They’re harmless.”
“Now that’s debatable.” Axel puffs out his chest.
“I… I don’t think so.” Ember sways on her feet. “They took the tracker with them when they dumped me on the roadside with your mobile number.”
We all gape at her. Silent. Stunned.
“There isn’t a single part of that sentence that doesn’t require explaining.” Axel crosses his arms, wearing the scowl that usually precludes his violent outbursts.
“Who?” I stare at her intently.
Ember visibly cringes, her throat working up and down, betraying her apparent reluctance to answer me. It makes my gut churn with increasing fury.
“Em?”
“I don’t…”
When her whisper trails off, I squeeze her arm in encouragement. “It’s okay. Tell me.”
“The man… He… He said his name was Blaine Madden.”