Chapter 16 Kick #2
“You should. Because it’s the key to predicting what else he’ll do.
” Thomas rested his hands on the desk in front of him.
“Baron has always believed he knows what’s best for Isabel.
He’s spent her whole life controlling her—her money, her choices—Baron had a hand in all of it.
And when she stepped out of line, he punished her.
Not with violence. With withdrawal. With silence and money.
With the constant reminder that his love was conditional on her obedience. ”
I thought about Isabel’s face when she’d talked about her father. The way she flinched at kindness because she’d learned to expect there’d be strings attached. The way she ran from love because she’d been taught that staying meant getting hurt.
Baron hadn’t just controlled her. He’d broken something in her. Something she was only now learning to rebuild.
“When she stopped playing by his rules,” Thomas continued, “when she chose you, when she got pregnant with a baby he can’t control, by a man he can’t buy, he snapped.
In his mind, he’s probably convinced himself he’s protecting her.
Saving her from a mistake. He doesn’t see what he’s doing as wrong. He sees it as necessary.”
“Necessary?” I snarled. “By kidnapping her? By ripping her away from the people who actually love her?”
“I’m not defending him, Kick. I’m explaining him.
And I’m telling you that a man like Baron—a man who can justify anything to himself—is dangerous.
He won’t respond to threats. He won’t back down because you’re angry.
The only thing that will reach him is being held accountable by people he can’t dismiss.
” Thomas’ eyes bored into mine. “You know who and what I’m talking about. ”
“I do,” I said. “And they’re on their way.”
I thought about my confrontation with Baron yesterday. The things he’d said about Isabel giving up the baby. The cold certainty in his eyes when he’d told me I wasn’t good enough for her.
He’d been planning this. Even then. He’d looked me in the face, knowing his people were already in position to take her.
“I’m going to kill him,” I said.
“No, you’re not.” Press stepped in front of me, his hand on my chest. “You’re going to keep your head. You’re going to let us handle this the right way. And you’re going to bring Isabel home safe.” He looked at his phone. “They’ve landed.”
My eyes opened wide. “Bas, you said Miremont is south of here, right?”
“Yes.”
“Closer to the airport.”
Bas nodded.
“Tell them to meet us there instead of coming here,” I said to Press.
He got on his phone, and I looked from Bas to his father, then to his sheriff. “I can’t wait around. If we think there’s a chance that’s where Isabel is, I need to go. Now.”
Thomas looked at Clayton, who nodded. “I’ve got units on the way. Silent pursuit for now.”
My eyes met Press’, and we raced out to his SUV.
“I’m coming with you,” Bas shouted, climbing in the rear passenger seat.
Thomas came out and stood directly in front of the SUV.
“Wait,” he said, resting both hands on the hood.
“You need to coordinate with the others. If you go charging in without a plan, you could make things worse. Baron has resources. Security. If he feels cornered, there’s no telling what he might do. ”
“I don’t care about—”
“Isabel would care,” said Thomas. “She would want you to be smart about this. She would want you to protect her and your baby. Don’t let your anger make you reckless.”
I closed my eyes and drew a breath. He was right. I hated that he was right, but he was.
“Tryst is coordinating,” Press said. “We rendezvous with them at Gracianna Vineyards.”
“That’s perfect,” said Bas. “There’s a mountain between them. If they’re there, Baron won’t see anyone coming.”
“And what if Baron’s already gone by the time we get there?” I asked.
“Then, we figure out where he went next. But think about it, Kick,” Bas urged.
“You’re right. He’ll try to convince her she’s better off without me. Break her down until she agrees to come back under his control.” My hands clenched into fists. “That’s not going to happen.”
“No,” Press agreed. “It’s not.”
Thomas moved away from the SUV. “Let’s roll, boys.”
The drive south felt endless.
I sat in the passenger seat, my phone pressed to my ear, coordinating with Tryst. Bas, behind me, stared silently out the window.
Every mile felt like ten. I studied the security footage he’d sent to my phone, watching Isabel walk away from me, watching her hand move to her stomach, watching her disappear into that SUV.
Why hadn’t I fucking ignored Thomas’ message? Why hadn’t I questioned it? Why in the ever-living hell had I left her alone for even five minutes?
“Stop.” Press speaking cut through my spiral. “I can hear you thinking from here, and it’s not helping.”
“I should have—”
“You couldn’t have known. No one could have known. Baron planned this, and he planned it well. Beating yourself up won’t get her back faster.”
Whether Press was right or wrong, guilt sat in my chest like a stone, heavy and cold and impossible to ignore.
“When he told her he sold it, she cried for a week. Called me at three in the morning, drunk, saying she’d lost the last piece of her mother she had left.” I turned to look at Bas over the seat as he spoke. “That’s when I knew what kind of man Baron was.”
I felt my hatred for Baron sharpen into something colder. More focused.
“She won’t let him break her. Not now. Not when she finally has something worth fighting for,” Bas added.
“She’s always had things worth fighting for. She just didn’t believe she deserved them.” I looked over at Press. “Drive…fucking…faster.”
He pushed the accelerator down, eating up the miles between us and the woman we were going to save.
I closed my eyes. Hang on, Isabel. I’m coming. No matter what it takes, I’m coming for you and for our baby.