Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“You sure this guy always comes this way?”
“One hundred percent,” Justin said. “He never deviates from his routine. Guy is as boring as fuck.”
Justin and Vander were walking down the street, staying relaxed. Just two guys catching up. Rhys had gone to get Justin’s van.
Aldo Poletti sounded like an idiot. Vander never kept the same routine. He drove to work differently each day. He stopped at different shops.
Some might say he was paranoid. He said he was cautious and prepared. He’d made a lot of enemies in his lifetime—both in the military and out—so it paid to be careful.
It was part of the reason why he’d never wanted to fall in love. The person you loved, who you cared about most of all, was a weakness.
But Brynn was also his greatest strength.
His mind tried to turn toward her, but he focused on the job at hand.
“There he is,” Justin murmured.
Vander marked the guy easily. About five foot ten, a little overweight, shaggy, black hair. He wore linen trousers and a loose, white shirt with a swagger and an oily smile that said he thought he was better than everyone else. That he had the right to terrify and assault his former wife.
Justin pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m texting Rhys to bring my van around.” He slipped the phone away. “You okay?”
Vander was really starting to hate that question. “Fine.”
“You seemed distracted. I’ve never seen you distracted.”
Vander shrugged a shoulder, keeping an eye on Poletti strolling down the hill toward them. A part of him wasn’t ready to share about Brynn’s pregnancy yet. “She got stabbed at work a few weeks back.”
Justin eyed him. “Ah.”
Vander flexed his jaw. He would never forget that phone call. Or the mad rush to the hospital. Seeing Brynn’s pale face, her shirt soaked in blood.
And he’d never, ever forget the helplessness. It wasn’t something he liked.
“Can’t be easy having a wife who’s got a dangerous job.”
“No. She’s fine now, but…” He trailed off.
“Every overprotective instinct you have is in overdrive.”
“Yes. She thinks I’m putting up a wall, holding back. That I don’t trust her. I know she’s a badass, but that doesn’t lessen the fucking fear.”
Poletti wasn’t far away now.
“You can’t control everything in life, Vander.
You know that. You knew that in Ghost Ops.
It’s what made you the best commander I’ve ever worked with.
You trusted your team to do what needed to be done when things went to hell.
You planned, then you trusted everyone to do their job, whatever we faced. ”
“She’s my wife, not a soldier.”
“But you guys are a team, right?”
Poletti was only a few feet away. Vander focused on him.
But Justin’s words echoed in his head.
Poletti moved to walk past them, and Vander whipped a black, fabric bag over his head.
Justin grabbed the man’s arm, and there was a flurry of cursing in Italian. Justin landed a quick, controlled punch to Poletti’s solar plexus and the man sagged. Vander grabbed his legs, and Justin gripped his upper body.
A white van pulled up beside them, Rhys at the wheel. He jumped out and opened the side door.
Vander and Justin tossed Poletti inside, and Justin zip tied the guy’s wrists and ankles, then slammed the door closed.
Vander scanned around. There wasn’t a single person in sight.
“Thanks for the help.” Justin dusted off his hands. “So, are you guys and your wives free for lunch?”
“I’ll check with Brynn and Haven,” Vander said. “I’ll message you.”
“Won’t take me long to deal with this scum.” Justin grasped Vander’s arm. “Thanks again. Feels just like the old days.” Then Vander’s friend circled the van, got in, and drove away.
The entire thing had only taken a couple of minutes.
Rhys and Vander watched the van drive off.
“He seems happy,” Rhys said.
“Yeah.” They started to walk back toward the side street where they’d parked the Ferrari.
Suddenly, he wanted to get back to Brynn. She’d asked him to talk to her. He could do that. With her.
They were going to be parents, and she was right, they were a team.
He never wanted her to doubt that he believed in her.
He didn’t need to work his shit and fear out alone. Justin had been right when he said Vander had trusted the team in the field. Now he needed to trust his wife.
“Can I drive?” his brother asked.
“No.”
“Come on, bro.”
“I paid for the rental. You’ll ding it.”
“No, I won’t. I’m an excellent driver.”
Vander stopped by the SUV and unlocked the doors. “Let’s—”
Arms closed around Vander’s neck from behind. He saw a flash of two guys rushing Rhys.
What the fuck?
He’d been distracted by thoughts of Brynn and being far from home. He didn’t think, he just reacted. He spun, and elbowed his attacker.
The guy grunted. Ahead of him, he watched Rhys punch one guy. Then the other jammed something into Rhys’ side.
His brother’s body shuddered.
Stun gun. Fuck.
Vander sidestepped and grabbed the guy behind him. He took a second to take in the Italian looks and greasy, black hair before he gripped the man’s shirt. He landed two quick jabs to the guy’s gut, then rammed him headfirst into the wall of a nearby shop. The guy went down on the pavement.
He was turning to help Rhys when pain sizzled through him.
Vander’s jaw locked. Electricity juddered through him.
He dropped to his knees, black splotches dancing in front of his eyes. No. Dammit.
Whoever the fuck had dared to attack him and his brother would pay. He vowed it.
That was his last thought before darkness descended.
He should have been home by now.
Brynn paced by the pool. She took no notice of the view.
Vander hadn’t come back for lunch, and now it was late afternoon. There’d been no messages and he wasn’t answering her calls.
She lifted her phone and jabbed his name again, then pressed the phone to her ear.
“Leave a message,” Vander’s deep voice said.
She closed her eyes. “It’s me again. Where are you? Call me when you get this.”
Something was wrong. She sensed it.
She pressed a hand to her stomach. This was Vander. Her man could handle anything.
But it wasn’t like him to just disappear without letting her know. And no matter what was going on with them, he’d always respond to her calls. Something was wrong.
There was no way in hell she’d just sit here, waiting and worrying.
She needed to find him.
“Brynn?”
Haven stepped out of the villa, wearing a pretty yellow sundress, but her face was creased with worry. “I still can’t get a hold of Rhys. He’s not answering the phone. He should’ve been home by now.”
“Let’s go inside.” Brynn took her sister-in-law’s arm.
“Can you call Vander? Maybe Rhys’ phone is broken.”
Brynn kept her tone even. “Let’s talk inside.”
All the color drained out of Haven’s face. “God. Vander’s not answering either?”
Brynn nodded. Inside, they both sat on the couch. Brynn lifted her phone and tried to call her husband again.
This time, it didn’t ring at all.
His phone had been switched off.
Or destroyed.
“Something’s happened,” Haven whispered shakily.
“Haven, this is Vander and Rhys. If anyone can handle any situation, it’s the two of them.” Brynn rose. “They were headed into the town center.”
“They were at a coffee shop called Licchio’s. Rhys sent me a picture.”
Haven held up her phone. It showed a selfie of Rhys, looking like a glamorous rock star with his tousled hair and wide smile. There was a coffee shop behind him, and she could see the sign with its name.
“Let’s go and check it out,” Brynn said. “Have you got keys for your rental car?”
“Yes.”
Brynn drove them into town and found a parking spot on a narrow side street.
In summer, she suspected the town center would be packed with sightseers, but now, the number of tourists had dwindled.
As they walked into the square, she watched a family with teenagers walking past, a girl talking to the father while the teenage boy was hunched over a cellphone.
Another family played in front of a historic church.
The toddler, a boy, held onto his father’s hand, toddling unsteadily.
God. That would be her and Vander before they knew it.
“We’re going to find your daddy, little one,” she murmured.
It didn’t take them long to find the coffee shop.
“Rhys was standing here in the photo.” Haven scanned around.
There was no sign of them.
“Let’s see if we can find their car. They wouldn’t have parked too far away.” A Ferrari wouldn’t be too hard to spot.
They wandered the nearby streets. Soon, they were onto their fourth, hope dwindling.
“There.” Haven pointed.
Brynn saw the sleek, gray SUV parked on a curve in the street. They hurried over.
She blinked. “It’s unlocked.” She turned and looked around. Then she saw something on the ground and her stomach curdled.
It was a key fob.
“Oh God.” Haven breathed. “What happened?”
Well, it clearly wasn’t a robbery, since they’d left the very expensive vehicle behind. Brynn looked up. There was a line of stores selling ceramics, clothes, and other tourist goods nearby. A middle-aged woman hovered in the doorway of the clothing shop.
Brynn walked over, and the woman looked like she was debating disappearing back into her store and locking the door.
“Scusi. Lei parla inglese?” Brynn asked.
The woman hesitated, then nodded.
“My name’s Brynn. I’m looking for my husband and my brother-in-law.”
The woman shook her head.
“This is their car.” She pointed. “They were here.”
“Sorry. I see nothing.”
This woman knew something. Brynn had interrogated too many people trying to hide something not to recognize the signs.
“Please.” She pressed a hand to her unsettled stomach.
The woman’s gaze dropped, and sympathy flashed on her face.
“Please,” Brynn said again.
The woman glanced around, then lowered her voice. “There was a fight. Two men were taken.”
Haven gasped. Brynn grabbed her hand.
“Did you see who took them?”
The woman licked her lips. “Mafiosi. Navarro’s men. Now, you go.”
The mafia?
Why? Why would they take Vander? He had no dealings with the local mafia.
But he often got in the way of the mafia back home. Russian, Irish, and Italian. He never hesitated to wade in to protect people.
She bit her lip. She had to find him.
“Grazie.” Brynn spun away. “We need to find Justin.” Had Justin Clarke been involved with this? He was the only person who’d know where Vander was going. Had he lured Vander and Rhys?
No. He was Ghost Ops, and Vander had trusted him.
Brynn would have to trust him as well.
She quickly texted Ace Oliveira back in San Francisco. Norcross Security’s tech genius could get Justin’s contact details fast.
“Can you drive your rental car back to the villa?” she asked Haven. “I’ll meet you there.”
Haven nodded and took the keys.
By the time Brynn slid into the Purosangue and adjusted the seat, Ace had texted her the number and address for Justin Clarke. She also did a quick search on the name Navarro and found out that Luciano Navarro was not a nice man.
Dammit. What the hell was going on?
On the drive back to the villa, she turned over all the possibilities. Nothing made sense. As far as she knew, Vander had no connection to Luciano Navarro.
Back at the villa, Brynn changed into black jeans and a black T-shirt.
She pulled her hair up in a ponytail. Then she glanced at Vander’s suitcase in the closet.
She knew her husband. She checked his bag and found a Glock hidden in a zippered pocket.
She was also highly aware of the black duffel bag hidden at the back of the closet.
She hoped she wouldn’t need to open that.
After checking the Glock, she slipped the handgun into the waistband of her jeans at her lower back and pulled her black shirt over it.
Then she strode out of the bedroom.
“What’s the plan?” Haven rose from the couch in the living room.
“I’m going to see Justin. He lives here and knows the players.” She took Haven’s hand and squeezed. “Our husbands are two of the biggest badasses on the planet. They’ll be fine.”
Haven nodded, but looked unconvinced. “I should come with you.”
“No, I need you to stay here. In case they come back.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Brynn strode out of the villa, feeling the cool night air on her cheeks. Now that the sun had disappeared, the temperature had dropped.
The stars were just starting to blink to life. She slid into the SUV and started the engine.
She was going to find her husband. Whatever it took.
You’d better be alive and unhurt, Norcross.