Chapter 11 #2
Just then, the truck lurched and the women were all thrown against the sides of their cages, as were the birds all around them.
A cacophony of sound erupted, making Bree put her hands over her ears to try to drown it out.
Putting them in with all these live animals was a smart move.
Any noise they tried to make would set off the birds and drown out their cries and screams.
As the ruckus continued, Bree had an epiphany. She didn’t need to know all the trivial things about Smiley to know she loved him. She wouldn’t have moved in with him if she didn’t. Wouldn’t be sleeping with him every night.
She knew Smiley. And she loved him. Was pretty sure that a man like him, who could have any woman he wanted, never would have moved her into his home if he didn’t love her right back.
The three of them weren’t alone in the world.
Not only did they have some badass Navy SEALs who loved them, their men had others who’d have their backs.
Bree had a feeling if they asked, the entire SEAL network would be activated.
No one was going to stop looking for them until they were found and returned home, safe and sound.
It was a powerful thought. It gave Bree the strength to take a deep breath—and then she promptly choked on the feathers, the smell of excrement, and the sense of danger in the air.
That hadn’t been a great idea, but she still felt stronger.
No matter what happened. What Mateo might have in store for her, she wouldn’t break.
She might not have told Smiley that she loved him, and she might not have heard the words in return, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know down to her soul that she and Smiley were meant to be together.
He was out there. Losing his mind, scowling, barking at people, doing whatever needed to be done to find her.
She simply had to hang on until that happened.
“Bree? Are you okay?” Fiona asked from the next cage.
“I’m okay. Julie, are you all right?” Bree asked.
“Pissed, but hanging in there,” the other woman responded.
“Right. So we’re all okay,” Fiona said. “Surrounded by shit, choking on the stench, freezing in these fucking ridiculous slips, but okay. Now—how are we going to get the hell out of here?”
Bree was surprised to feel a smile forming on her face.
Never in a million years would she have thought Fiona would step up to be their leader.
Not after how broken she’d been when this same thing had happened to her all those years ago, or after she’d curled into a fetal position in the back of that SUV.
But time, and true love, had a way of giving you strength.
Bree just hoped it was enough. That Mateo wouldn’t simply decide to kill them all. Alive, they could handle whatever he had planned long enough for their men to swoop in and save the day. But if they were dead—
Bree cut off the thought.
No. Mateo wouldn’t have gone to the lengths he had if he was just going to kill them. He could’ve done that at the store. Or while they were unconscious. He had a plan for them.
What he didn’t realize was that by taking them, he was as good as dead.
Smiley wouldn’t let him live after this, of that Bree had no doubt.
And Cookie, Hurt, and the rest of the SEALs would be lining up to make sure the deed was done.
She, Julie, and Fiona simply had to figure out a way to make their job easier.
If they could escape Mateo and his goons, and these damn chickens, it would make the SEALs’ job a hell of a lot easier.
It was time to plan.
“Anything?” Cookie barked into his phone as they pulled into the fourth truck stop east of Riverton to search for any sign of the black SUV and the women.
“No. You guys?” Wolf asked, his voice echoing around the cab of the truck through the cellphone speaker.
“No. And I spoke with Dude and Mozart and they’ve struck out too. Any word from Tex?”
“Not yet,” Wolf said.
Smiley clenched his teeth as Blink drove slowly through the maze of trucks parked at the truck stop.
It was fully dark now. The women had been gone for nearly four hours.
Thoughts of what they could be going through ate at him.
He’d never felt like this before. As if his insides were being slowly pulled out of his body one inch at a time.
He’d been concerned when he couldn’t find Bree during all those trips to Vegas, when he was hunting for her. And that was before he’d gotten to know her. Before he’d connected with her on both a physical and emotional level.
He’d spent almost every moment with her for the last few weeks. To not have her there now…it physically hurt. But underlying the pain was an anger that was festering. Bubbling. Ready to overflow.
Even with his job as a SEAL, he’d never felt he was a particularly violent man.
Yes, he did some violent things as part of his job, but he was able to turn the other cheek when it came to the assholes he encountered in his regular life.
People who thought their needs and wants were more important than those of everyone around them.
Fuckers who had no problem cutting him off in traffic or butting in front of others in a line, simply because they were in a hurry.
But right now? Smiley was itching to hurt someone. No, not someone. Mateo Castillo and the other assholes who dared break into My Sister’s Closet and take what didn’t belong to them. Not that Julie, Fiona, and Bree belonged to anyone but themselves.
The anger and violence simmering under the surface of his skin should’ve worried him.
But it didn’t. He was more than ready to kill the men for touching Bree.
He’d watched the video. Had seen the panic in her eyes when her oxygen was cut off.
Watched how she’d clawed at Castillo’s arm.
The vision in his head made his hands clench as he strained to see any hint that the women had been at the truck stop. Maybe they were still there.
He didn’t know what he was looking for though.
The black SUV, yes, but by now the women had certainly been transferred to some other mode of transportation.
Truck, train, boat…the shitty thing was, they had no idea how Castillo was planning on getting them out of the country.
They just had no doubt that he was. His operation was out of Ecuador. Surely that’s where he was heading.
“Fuck! This is hopeless,” Cookie swore, as he hung up with Wolf. “We should just go to fucking Ecuador already. Meet the asshole at his house.”
“If we can’t find how he’s getting them out of the country, that’s what we’ll do,” Blink said calmly. “But if at all possible, we want to intercept him now. Save the women the trauma of that transport.”
He was right. Of course he was. But his words made Smiley feel even sicker than he did already.
They were driving past a row of semi-trucks that were all backed into designated parking spaces at the truck stop, but there was one empty space between a semi from a big-box store and a logistics company truck.
If he hadn’t been focusing right on the area behind the trucks, he would’ve missed it. As it was, Smiley wasn’t sure what he’d seen.
“Wait! Stop!”
All three men were thrown forward as Blink stomped on the brake.
“Back up! I saw something!” Smiley exclaimed.
Putting the truck in reverse, Blink gunned it backward until they were parallel to the empty parking space. Squinting, trying to see what was lying in the grass under the trees behind the line of trucks, Smiley reached for the door handle.
Blink and Cookie were at his heels as he raced toward the tree line.
Unfortunately—or fortunately—the object on the ground wasn’t one of the women. It was a pile of clothing. To anyone else it might look like garbage.
But Smiley recognized the blouse Bree had been wearing.
It was one of her four outfits she’d brought with her from Vegas, and she’d told him it was a favorite because it had sunflowers all over it that made her smile when she wore it. How many times had he already folded that blouse after washing it?
Turning abruptly, Smiley managed just three steps away from the mound of clothing, doubled over, and threw up.
Seeing Bree’s clothes in a heap on the ground, in the dirt, hammered home that whatever had happened to her, whatever was still happening, wasn’t good.
“That’s Fiona’s,” Cookie said, pointing out another shirt.
“You okay?” Blink asked quietly, putting a hand on Smiley’s back.
He stood and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “No,” he said succinctly, turning back to the pile of clothing. He crouched next to it, not sure if he should touch anything or not. Leaning closer, he swore again.
“Cookie, tell me those aren’t the earrings your wife was wearing…the ones you told me have trackers in them?”
“Fuck. And her wedding rings. And those are the barrettes and earrings Hurt said Julie was wearing, also from Tex.”
Smiley nodded. “Bree was wearing that necklace. It was her favorite thing Tex had sent.” He looked over at Cookie, who was crouched on the opposite side of the discarded items. “They stripped them,” he whispered.
Cookie’s jaw was ticking in his cheek. He looked like Smiley felt. As if he was two seconds away from losing his shit. He stood and looked around. “They were here. A truck was probably backed into this spot. Their belongings were taken before they were loaded. So we know they’re in a truck.”
“But not which truck, or where they’re going!” Smiley exclaimed, feeling extremely agitated. He began to pace back and forth, not able to look at Bree’s belongings thrown away like trash. He wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Blink here. Where’s Tex?”