9. Aiden
Aiden
As night falls, Soulcombe’s members descend upon the grounds, ready to mingle with other like-minded bastards.
I really don’t enjoy being here. The sound of each car door slamming grates on my nerves and makes my trigger finger itch.
At least it’s a weeknight and not a weekend, keeping the masses away.
I’d have left hours ago, but I need to speak with Trent. His avoidance is maddening. He still hasn’t returned after retreating to his home on the grounds.
Fucking hell. This is taking way too long.
From my seat on a bench in the side garden, I’ve watched three women go in and out of his place.
All of them too damn young. It’s sickening, and the reason I bummed a ciggy from Silas before he and Merial disappeared to his place an hour after sending Dr. Finnly and his associate with two guards to be dumped at a hospital.
Bloody mess, that was. We cauterized his wound and added a tourniquet just to keep him from bleeding out.
Not the first time I’ve done that. As former SBS, it was part of my training.
Someone always ends up as the medic. I was assigned that lucky task.
It didn’t require a medical degree. I was more of a paramedic with a few extra skills.
The one who kept men alive long enough to get them the hell out of there. Making sure no one got left behind.
Silas almost blacked out when things escalated, so Drake helped me sear the wound with a red-hot metal plate. Finnly squealed like a pig. Ugly, but it worked.
Sanitary? Doubtful, but not my problem. Our goal was simple—stop the bleeding. If he got a nasty infection and lost more of his arm, that’s on him.
My pocket vibrates, pulling me to my feet. One last drag before crushing out my third smoke under my boot. Phone in hand, I unlock it and read the three incoming texts, my pulse kicking up a notch as I do.
PAULY:
Might have found her. Long shot, but if it pays off, I owe Holster’s tech guy for pulling what I couldn’t. Alma’s been chatty. Said something that helped. Waiting on the address.
You’ll want this. Cygan contacted D.C. Sanders. Tap on the detective’s phone paying off. Message was vague. Sounded like he was thanking him for tracking the girl down.
Got it. Sending the address. Thirty minutes out. Are we going alone, or are you coming?
There’s no way I’m letting them go without me.
ME:
Leaving now. Meet up in ten at the farm down the road.
We’re on the move now. See you soon.
Jogging toward my car, I hear Trent’s door finally open and shut. When I glance that way, sure enough, it’s the boss. He’s heading straight for me.
Bloody fucking perfect.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His tone is non-negotiable, and with each heavy step my way says he’s expecting a reply.
“Something came up.” I flick a hand, a dismissive gesture. “I’ll call later. Cort’s in your office with Drake. Merial’s taking care of Silas.”
“Stop!” Trent barks. It’s an order. “What came up? You and I have unfinished business. What the fuck is more important than that?”
I bite back the urge to draw my gun and put a bullet in him.
“Isabel Lopez Reyes.” The name lands hard. “She’s more important right now. Why? She was taken last night because I chose your request over her safety.”
With a sigh, I open my Jaguar’s door. The scent of leather hitting as I rest my hands on the roof, watching him.
“Found some very interesting items in the gallery. Not just what you sent me to find, either.” I tilt my head. “Like… where the fuck did all of Alma’s precious art go? You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Are you accusing me of something, Aiden?” His posture stiffens, trying for intimidation. It doesn’t land. “And what do you mean? Where did the art go? Wasn’t it inside?”
“Poof. Gone.” I flick my hands like a magician. “Everything but the portraits. Those told me plenty. Didn’t realize Sofia and you were so close.”
He blinks once, then shakes his head like that settles it. “We weren’t.”
“So, you let just anyone wear a family heirloom?” I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now, when I really need to get going.
“You can explain that to me later, along with why the Botticelli matters so damn much to you. That, and why you didn’t want Silas involved. Was it because you knew he’d talk?”
He doesn’t answer. Just circles back to our initial conversation. “I didn’t realize you and Isabel were involved. When did this happen?”
“We met in Oxford, after the fire at the school. Crossed paths again at Bailamos. Your son reintroduced us. He was trying to get her and her friend to join him for drinks after our meeting with Cort.” I catch the way Trent cringes, but I don’t have time to question why.
“The universe has been throwing us together ever since.” I shift, ready to climb into the car and get the fuck out of here. “Now can I go? I’ve got a lead I need to follow before she disappears again.”
“Who took her?” He’s already pulling out his phone, thumbs moving fast.
“You were at the top of my list. Not anymore.” My phone buzzes insistently in my pocket, its frantic vibration prompting me to pull it out. “Now I’m leaning more toward a man named Cygan. You know him?”
The sheer venom in his eyes, sharp and immediate, is all the answer I need.
“I’ve heard of him. If he’s involved, you’d better find her fast. Rumor is, if you see his face, you won’t live to tell anyone about it. You shouldn’t go alone.”
Right then, Drakes steps out of the main house.
I shake my head. “I don’t need help. My team and I can handle this.”
“Team?” With a tilt of his head, he narrows his eyes, distrust written all over his face. “What team?”
I hold my phone up and give him the answer he’s looking for.
“A couple of my former military buddies. Isabel needed extra eyes on her since her guards are useless. I called in a few favors. Good thing I did. While I’ve been stuck here, they’ve been hunting for her.
Now, if you don’t mind, time’s running out. ”
Another vehicle pulls up, and I pay it no attention. Cars have been arriving like this for the last hour. Then, I hear a familiar voice and know there’s no way I’m getting out of here without unwanted company.
“So, you’ve finally seen the light and realize Aiden’s an untrustworthy fucker?” He strolls over with that smug look. “Don’t sweat it, boss, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
His grin, while resting his arms on the hood of my Jag, makes me want to knock his teeth out. “So, where we going, pretty boy?”
“Fine. Zander can come.” I unlock the door for him. “But don’t be surprised if he comes back missing a few teeth.”
“Bring her back here,” Trent demands, his voice sharp and insistent. “We’ll talk more, then. And Aiden…”
I glance over the bonnet while the other arsehole buckles up.
“Don’t disappoint me and don’t kill Zander.”
“I make no promises where Zander is concerned.” I climb in.
The Jag’s engine roars as we speed off, leaving a trail of dust in our wake. “Fucking arsehole.”
“You’ve got balls, man.” Zander chuckles as we tear down the driveway toward the front gate. “Where are we headed?”
I ease off just enough for the gate to finish opening—then floor it. A car coming down the road swerves out of my way, horn blaring. That prick is lucky I don’t have time to turn around and rip him out of his car for pushing my buttons.
We hit the main road without slowing, tires squealing. Zander braces himself, grabbing the overhead handle, as the car jerks. “Slow down, man. You can’t save her if you’re dead.”
Just as I’m about to tell him to fuck off, my phone rings over the speakers. Zander beats me to it, pressing the green button on the screen. “Let’s hear it. What are we walking into?”
“Good to hear your voice, Zander. Didn’t realize you were joining us.” Lane’s voice carries a hint of amusement. “So, how’d you get invited to the party?”
“Bossman made it happen,” Zander says. “Good thing I was close. Otherwise, Drake might’ve come. Instead, you’re stuck with me.” Fucker grins. “Better to look at, and I don’t grunt my words.”
I take the next corner faster than necessary. “Drake wasn’t coming. That was made clear before scar face showed up. Now stop the chitchat and tell me everything.”
“Not really sure what we’ll be walking into.
Intel’s weak. Satellite picked up the SUV—the one that took the princess—parked in the drive,” Pauly’s voice responds.
No surprise, I expected the crew to all be listening.
“It’s too dark to confirm more. Once we’re closer, I’ll deploy a drone with heat sensors to tell us how many we’re dealing with. Wish I had more.”
“Are we sure she’s there?” Zander asks what no one else has said out loud.
I cut him a look. Things between the two of us have always been touchy.
We met at boot camp. Rivals from day one.
He jumped branches, ended up SAS—Special Air Service.
Same kind of work. Same shitty mess. A bomb took out his unit during a covert op, leaving half his team dead and the others barely holding on.
Zander’s face is a mess of scars, but those haven’t slowed him down. He’s one of our best.
The advantage in this world is that everyone knows we hate each other. Though hate’s a strong word. Better to say I’m not a fan. But I trust him, and in this world, that’s everything.
Even if he’s one ugly, annoying prick.
“We can’t be positive until we get inside.”
I must grunt because Lane adds, “Even if she’s not, someone is. And whoever’s inside knows where she is and who took her. Don’t worry, Aiden. We’ll find her. Do whatever it takes. But my gut tells me this is where they are keeping her.”
“Why?” I ask. “Whose place is this?”
There’s a long pause that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. This is going to be one of those damn mysteries that makes no sense. A piece of the puzzle I’m hoping to solve.
“That’s the part that tripped us up,” Pauly finally says. “The place was purchased twenty-eight years ago by Sofia Joan Lopez, Isabel’s mother.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m not done,” Pauly sighs. “When she died, it passed to her mother, Alma. A few years ago, Isabel’s name was added to the deed.
We only found it because Alma mentioned it to Misty.
Told her she needed to check on Sofia at her home in Westbury.
Said the young man she was playing house with was dangerous, and when he found out what she’d been up to, he’d kill her.
Misty calmed her down, then passed the information over to Holster. Said it felt real. Important.”
I slam the car into park and jump out now that we’ve reached the farm, ending the call.
Lane is standing there, waiting for what I’m sure he knows is coming.
“So, you believe Isabel owns the house they’re holding her in?”
Lane shakes his head. “Six months ago, Rico sold it. How? Not sure. But that seems to be a pattern.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, I want to punch him. “To whom?”
“An investment company.”
“What does an investment company want with an old farmhouse in the middle of fucking nowhere?” My eyes scan over my men, and I lower my head, knowing they’re holding something back. “Just get on with it so we can go.”
“The woman who signed the papers is also the CEO of Ultion. Her name is Katerina Vetrov. Wanna guess who her great uncle is?” Pauly doesn’t wait; he spits it out. “Viktor Del Markov.”
Fuck!