Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
CYRUS
T he boat cuts over the glassy surface of the black water beneath us as we navigate through the patches of cordgrass. The four of us and Nolan and Lake are hunched down, not uttering a word as we get closer to where we believe the shanty is. I thought I was done with this type of operation, but I’ll go to the depths of hell to save Harper. To save anyone I love, actually.
She better not have a single hair on her head out of place. If he’s touched her, hurt her, I will cut off every single one of his fingers with a dull knife. He’ll wish he never even looked in her direction by the time I’m done with him.
Declan’s face is drawn tight with simmering rage. He’s barely restraining his rage. The reckless part of me wants to lean over and stoke it until it burns as bright as mine.
The part of me that’s managed to stay good twists when I look at Banks and Emerson. Neither of them have this kind of darkness inside them. Emerson is a healer, not a killer. Banks is a wildcard, though. I know he’d do anything to protect Harper, and at this moment that’s all that matters.
Getting to Harper before she’s hurt is our one objective.
Killing the fucker who took her is the second.
Felix and Annabelle stayed at the house while Cillian, Sawyer, and Lake’s other guys went to meet with the PI who was following White. He has to be the key to all of this. I hope they get answers. We have to put an end to this nightmare.
Flynn is dead.
White has answers.
Weigman has Harper.
Soon the latter two will be joining the former, except they’ll be fish food at the bottom of the marsh.
Lake cuts the engine when we get within fifty yards of the shanty. One lone light shines from the outside of the building, illuminating a weathered dock and dinghy that fits the description Annabelle gave us. The door swings open revealing a man who closely resembles the image of the man taking money from White.
He’s got a bandage over one of his eyes, and my heart swells with pride. It’s one of the places I told her to aim for if she was ever attacked. Looks like she remembered my lecture. Using the seashell was brilliant, too.
“Can I help you?” He yells as we get closer to his dock.
“Yeah, we’re looking for someone.” Lake pulls up to the dock, and Nolan jumps out. “A nineteen-year-old woman was kidnapped today. We believe she was taken into the marsh.”
“Haven’t seen anyone around here.” He doesn’t even hesitate to lie.
I look back at the cabin and see the flash of pale skin on the floor through the cracked door. I smack Declan’s hand while Nolan approaches the man keeping him distracted. He follows my gaze and goes preternaturally still. We share a look right before launching ourselves out of the boat onto the dock.
“Hey!” Weigman yells as we start running toward the shanty. “Stop, or I’ll shoot you both before you can even think of helping her!”
The sound of a fist hitting flesh and scuffling footsteps fill the quiet night air as Lake ties up the boat, and Banks and Emerson jump out. A gun goes off behind us, but the struggling continues as we race toward the door.
There’s no light inside, so I turn on a flashlight. The sight before us is as horrifying as it is beautiful. Harper is alive, but her pants and panties are pushed down to her thighs. Blood is caked on her face and in her hair.
When Declan drops to his knees beside her, she briefly looks up at him with vacant eyes before losing consciousness. I drop the flashlight and work on pulling her clothes back on. The other four come racing in, Nolan is bleeding from his arm, but it doesn’t slow him down. Emerson kneels beside her head and takes her pulse.
“She’s good. Her pulse is strong,” he says before gently pushing her hair away from her face. “Probably has a concussion from whatever she hit her head on.”
“She was barely awake when we ran in. She saw me and then passed out.”
“Could be shock,” Lake says. “Let’s get her in the boat and back to your house.
“I’ll let Annabelle know.” Banks pulls out his phone and texts her.
“Tell her to call their on-call doctor and have him ready to check her out,” Emerson instructs.
Declan slides his arms under her body, lifting her off the ground with ease and begins moving slowly back toward the boat. I jump in first, and he hands her over to me while he gets inside. Nolan and Lake stay behind to clean up and get rid of Weigman’s dead body. We don’t know if the other team grabbed White yet or not, but the plan is to haul him to the shanty and question him there. I don’t know if Cillian will want him executed or not, and it’s none of my concern at the moment.
All I want to do is get the woman in my arms tucked safely back in bed. If he did anything to her, raped her, I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her. I should have insisted on giving her more self-defense lessons. One of us should have stayed back at the house this morning. There are so many things we could have done differently to stop this, but we didn’t. We were too relaxed after our trip and then too reliant on a false sense of security from being home.
Her skin is ice cold as we fly across the open water of the bay. Banks strips off his hoodie and tucks it around her. Emerson sits down, his side pressed against mine and he pulls her bare feet up, wrapping his hands around them to share body heat. They’re bloody and filthy, but he doesn’t care. None of us do.
“Should we be worried that she isn’t waking up?” I ask Emerson as quietly as I can, so I don’t scare the other two guys.
“I don’t know for sure, but I’m not going to worry about that until she’s back in her own bed and a doctor has evaluated her.”
I can’t tell if he’s being honest or lying to keep me calm, but either way I’m taking his words at face value. We only have a few more minutes until we’ll be at their dock. For as fast as Declan is driving the boat, we might as well be crawling through quicksand. I’ve never felt like a boat ride took so long as this one.
Annabelle is standing on the dock wrapped in a blanket with Felix right beside her keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings. Banks jumps out and takes Harper from me, basically sprinting into the house with Annabelle right behind him. Emerson and I tie up the boat while Declan turns everything off.
The three of us sprint up the path together, one place on our mind. By the time we get inside, Annabelle and Banks have Harper in bed, and Annabelle is using alcohol wipes to clean off her forehead. Emerson lifts the blanket to start cleaning her feet, one of which has a nasty cut right across the top.
I toss him some of the alcohol wipes, and he gets to work. Ten minutes after they each get her somewhat cleaned up, Felix walks the doctor in. He asks us all to leave except for Annabelle.
Emerson has to push Declan out of the room. He growls in frustration and walks down the hallway with his hands in his hair. Banks keeps a close eye on him, but it isn’t in an untrusting way, it’s only in concern. I stay by the door hoping to hear what’s being said but so far no such luck.