22. Seb
Chapter 22
Seb
I grip the wheel of the hire boat tightly, my knuckles white as I navigate the choppy waters around Dupont Island.
I’m at a far enough distance to not be noticed, but not close enough for my surveillance equipment to work.
Squinting as I scan the shoreline, searching for any sign of Ava.
And any weakness in the island’s defenses that I can exploit.
I’ve already booked myself, under an alias, for the next museum visit and studied the blueprint of the island. One way or another, I will rescue my sweetheart.
There’s a constant ache in my chest, a physical manifestation of how much I miss her.
Not just her beauty. Ava is so much more than that. I miss her laugh, her touch, the way her eyes light up when she’s plotting something devious or our next job.
Up ahead is a fishing charter, and I drop my anchor close enough for the boat to make it look like we’re part of the same team. At the same time, I’m far enough away from it to not disturb their fishing expedition.
I take my binoculars and scan the island. There’s a large Spanish-style house dominating the landscape, its white stucco walls gleaming in the sunlight. A red-tiled roof cascades down in levels, giving the structure an elegant, stepped appearance. Wrought-iron balconies jut out from the upper floors, offering glimpses of the interior.
Surrounding the house, palm trees sway gently in the breeze, their fronds casting shadows across the meticulously manicured gardens.
I can make out vibrant splashes of bougainvillea climbing the walls, their pink and purple flowers a stark contrast against the white facade.
To the east of the main house, there must be a large pool area. I can’t see it, but the sun shimmering on the water casts a sparkling dance on the villa’s walls.
Further down, closer to the shoreline, I see a private dock jutting out into the crystal-clear waters. An enormous, sleek mega yacht is moored there, its polished surface reflecting the sunlight.
Anger stirs in my gut as I look at it. Realizing it’s the vessel that came perilously close to our smaller cruiser in the S’Arenal marina.
They’d been watching her.
As I pan across the island, I notice a series of smaller buildings scattered around the property. They could be guest houses, staff quarters, or something else entirely. Each blends seamlessly with the main house and the natural landscape.
My heart races as I spot movement on one of the upper balconies. A figure emerges, and even from this distance, I’d recognize that silhouette anywhere. Ava. She leans against the railing, looking out towards the sea. Is she searching for me?
Planning her escape? No doubt.
My heart thumps against my rib cage and just as I’m about to lower the binoculars, another figure joins her on the balcony.
Tall, broad-shouldered. The man I now know is Max Montgomery. I watch, my grip tightening on the binoculars, as he places a hand on her shoulder.
“Get your hands off her,” I growl to myself.
Blood thrashes in my ears.
But to my surprise and dismay, Ava doesn’t pull away.
I force myself to keep watching, reminding myself that Ava is clever. This must be part of her plan. It has to be. Because the alternative is too painful to contemplate. She wouldn’t.
But we always had an agreement if an alpha ever took her. She would do what she needed to until I rescued her.
Not that the memory of that conversation helps.
She’s an omega, and she never truly knew how she’d feel if the situation ever came to fruition.
And it’s the alpha whose hands are on her shoulders as he talks in her ear.
I’m a beta, not that my love for her is any less.
I may not be an alpha, but the memory of her scent when she was in her heat lingers, taunting me with what I’ve lost.
As they retreat into the house, I lower the binoculars, my mind racing. The island is a fortress, but every fortress has its weak points. And I’m going to find them, no matter what it takes.
Anger bubbles up inside me, directed not at Ava or even Max, but at me. I should have protected her better. I should have found a way.
The memory of Silas’ gun pointed at my face flashes through my mind, and I shake my head, trying to dispel it. I know, logically, that I never had a choice. But logic does little to ease the guilt that weighs on me.
I slump in my chair with my binoculars in my hand. What if she thinks I failed her? What if she’s giving them a chance?
Ten minutes later, I stop wallowing and get back to my plan. I rush into the cabin and adjust the listening device, hoping to pick up any information that might help me rescue her. The crackle of static fills the air, and then I hear her.
“... beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ava’s voice comes through, clear as a bell.
My heart leaps at the sound.
I scramble to the side of the boat, binoculars in hand. There she is, walking along the cliff top, not too close to the edge.
My breath catches in my throat. She’s as beautiful as ever, but something’s off.
She’s smiling, chatting easily with Silas. And there, holding her hand, is a little girl, around three years old.
The sight is like a punch to the gut. She looks happy. Comfortable. Like she belongs there.
No. I shake my head, refusing to believe it. Ava is smarter than that. She’s playing them, luring them into a false sense of security. She has to be.
I rush back to the listening device, fumbling with the controls in my haste to hear more. But by the time I get it working again, they’ve moved out of range. All I hear is the distant crash of waves against the shore.
Frustration and determination war within me as I watch the sun sink towards the horizon. I won’t give up on her.
I can’t.
When the moon casts a silvery line through the still night water, I quietly lower a small dinghy from the back of the boat.
I dip the rear engine into the water and turn it onto the lowest, quietest speed.
The small vessel barely makes a splash as I travel in the dark towards the island, adrenaline coursing through my veins, and my heart beating unhealthily fast.
As I reach the first hiding spot, the one we used before, I carefully tuck a set of scuba gear into the crevice, making sure it’s well-hidden but accessible. Then I move to the second location, repeating the process.
As I power back to the boat, I cast one last look at the island. Somewhere in there is Ava, my Ava. And no matter what it takes, I’m going to bring her home.