Chapter 16
The cold metal of the door handles grounded him as he tried to get his shit together before facing his friends. He had to fill them in on everything Britt had told him, but his brain was disintegrating into mush.
All he could think about was how she’d come back to him.
She’d been alive all this time, and he hadn’t known it. If he had, he would’ve searched the world to find her and bring her home. Even if she didn’t know who he was.
Turning slowly, he wasn’t surprised to see three sets of eyes locked on him from the massive conference table.
The air felt charged with unspoken questions.
Monitors glowed behind them, painting their faces in shifting blue light as they watched him, waiting for his reaction to the impossible.
The miracle who had walked into the compound an hour ago.
His boots echoed against the polished concrete floor as he crossed the room and sank into the ergonomic chair. “It’s her. It’s Britt.” His voice cracked slightly. “She didn’t die. I don’t know how, but she wasn’t killed in that car bomb …” His words trailed off as he registered their skepticism.
Movement on the three massive monitors caught his eye.
The live feed from the Oasis Room filled the screens, showing Britt alone, perched on the couch.
She sat still, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the cushion, her gaze flicking around the room as if searching for something—or someone.
A determined look rested on her face as she waited.
The fear and uncertainty were gone, replaced with hope.
His breath caught. Jaw clenched. His gaze zeroed in on Bobby. “You were fucking eavesdropping on our conversation?” His voice was low, dangerous. “That’s why you sent us to the Oasis Room?”
“Obviously.” Bobby didn’t flinch. He leaned back in his chair, smirking, fingers tapping against the keyboard. “And before you ask, I recorded it, too.”
“You fucking arse!” Lachlan exploded, his fist connecting with the table. Water glasses rattled, the force reverberating through the room. “That was a private conversation between me and her. I told you I’d fill you in later.”
“You need to slow the fuck down,” Bobby said, leaning across the table, his eyes glinting with challenge.
Kane raised his hands in a placating gesture. “We all agreed it was for the best.” His voice softened. “It must have been hard for you to keep it together around her. I doubt you remember much of what she told you.”
“I remember every fucking detail of what that asshole did to her,” Lachlan said.
“Why don’t we stop wasting time and focus on figuring out who kidnapped Britt and is trying to kill her.” Everett wrote on a tablet, projecting the notes on the screen. “Assuming, of course, her story is true.”
“Wait.” A cold weight settled in Lachlan’s gut. “You don’t think she’s Britt?”
Silence. The air in the room seemed to thicken, the faint hum of the surveillance equipment the only sound.
Lachlan’s throat tightened. “She has amnesia, but there’s no doubt in my head or my heart that she’s my woman. Ye don’t forget that kind of connection. I know it’s her.”
“I wasn’t around when you and Britt were together. It’s quite possible that you’re right,” Rocco said, slouching in his chair as he popped a couple of grapes into his mouth.
Lachlan’s head snapped toward him. “Quite possible?”
“Yeah, fucker. Just possible.” Bobby stopped typing, frowning at Lachlan as he spoke.
Lachlan’s vision went red. The chair scraped violently against the concrete as he lunged toward Bobby.
Everett and Kane were on him in a flash, gripping his arms, holding him back.
“Calm down,” Everett muttered, straining slightly against Lachlan’s strength. “Don’t let him get to you.”
Lachlan’s chest heaved, his breath ragged. He forced himself to relax, jerking out of their grip. Fighting Bobby wouldn’t solve this. He had to get them to see the truth in front of them.
“Britt had a memory,” he said, forcing steel into his voice.
“One that wasn’t in the audio recordings.
She remembered an address—my old house. 67 Nova Lane.
The house she lived in with me.” He leaned forward, his hands bracing against the cool surface of the table.
“How do you explain that if she’s not Britt? ”
Rocco studied the grape between his fingers, maneuvering it between each one like a circus trick.
“Could’ve been implanted.” His voice was casual, almost bored.
“Subliminal messaging. Layered frequencies. Information absorbed without realizing it. That address could’ve been slipped into whatever mindfuck they pulled on her. ”
“Kane,” Lachlan turned to his friend with desperate intensity. “You had a front-row seat when Britt and I got together. What do you think?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. The woman in that room needs our help regardless of who she is.” Kane shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up if she’s not who you want her to be.”
Everett exhaled through his nose. “There’s a simple way to find out.”
Lachlan’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
Everett continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “A DNA test.”
“I don’t need a DNA test.” Lachlan’s voice was lethal. “I know she’s Britt.”
Kane hesitated. “It’s not a bad idea. We wouldn’t have to tell Britt or Paloma—”
“Did you not hear what Britt went through? Some fucker held her captive and controlled her life.” The vein in Lachlan’s temple throbbed out of control. “And now you want me to go behind her back. Decide for her? That’s not happening.”
“Fine. Then tell her we think she’s Britt Freeman and let her decide,” Bobby said.
“She thinks someone forced Britt Freeman’s memories on her.
She won’t trust us if we approach her the same way.
” His eyes darted to the surveillance feed where Britt sat, illuminated by the soft lighting.
“She’s not going to stick around either.
And I’ll have lost her again.” The words caught in his throat.
“I just got her back. I’m not letting that happen.
” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.
“We have to do better by her than what she’s been through.
” He turned toward Rocco. “Who’s the psychologist you and Jemma worked with at the DEA? ”
“Fallon Abrams,” Rocco said, sitting up straighter as he popped the grape into his mouth. “She can evaluate Britt and give us insight on the likelihood of her regaining her memories either way.”
“Alright, you contact Dr. Abrams.” Everett wrote on the tablet, and the words appeared on the screen. “Any ideas on who the guy she called The Visitor could be? He obviously knows more about her than she thought if he followed her to St. Felipe and knew about the house on Nova Lane.”
“He could be anybody. Medium skin tone could be a number of different ethnicities. Vague height. Muscular build. No distinctive accent, marks, or tattoos. But maybe we could hack into the surveillance cameras in the neighborhood, scour footage from the approximate time when she was there, and get an image,” Kane said.
“I already tried that when she was telling her story and came up empty. The cameras at Lachlan’s old house are offline or were removed.
I got footage of the truck from a few cameras of the neighbors’ houses, but the license plate was obscured and unreadable.
None of the cameras were at the right angles to see The Visitor,” Bobby said.
Lachlan sucked in a deep breath. “So our only credible lead is the Quattro gang member who chased her through the streets of Conrad after recognizing her.”
“Alejandro Cerundolo is leading the cartel now that Titus is dead,” Kane said, with a sly grin.
The same Alejandro who was heartbroken after Britt dumped him for you.
If you were a low-level gang member and saw a woman who looked like the dead love of his life, wouldn’t it be in your best interest to track her down and bring her to your new leader? ”
“Or maybe back to your new leader,” Everett said. “What if Alejandro was behind Britt’s captivity all along?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time Alejandro was behind kidnapping a woman and altering her memories,” Kane said, nodding.
Lachlan’s blood ran cold, remembering how Alejandro had clawed his way into Titus Freeman’s inner circle.
Despite the differences in backgrounds of the Stingray team—some from the right side of the law and others not—they were all aware of the major activities of the cartels that existed on the islands.
“What the hell does that mean?” Rocco demanded. “I spent my entire career in the DEA hunting down Dominican cartels. I’m not as familiar with Quattro folklore.”
“Why don’t I do the honors,” Bobby said, clearing his throat.
“Long before Lachlan stole Britt from Alejandro, or even knew who she was, her father, Titus, found himself in a tricky situation with a Dutch princess. He got caught up in a secret love affair with her and was sloppy enough to conduct some of his business when she was in his bed. The princess was scared to realize she’d fallen for a thug and took the information to the top law enforcement groups in The Netherlands. ”
“No shit?” Rocco muttered, then whistled. “So Titus Freeman was about to get busted because he had loose lips while his dick was in some princess. Obviously he got out of the situation. How was Alejandro involved?”
Kane chimed in. “Alejandro has a connection with the infamous Dr. Rakestraw.”
“One of the founders of the Rakestraw Blake Center, the top medical facility in the entire Caribbean,” Rocco said, nodding.
Kane said, “And Dr. Rakestraw is well known for his experimental research in hypnotic memory repression—”
“Wait. This doctor is a quack who helps criminals erase people’s memories?” Rocco asked.
Bobby nodded. “And he’s damn good at it too. Alejandro made a deal with Titus that if he could manipulate the princess’s memories and render her a useless witness for Interpol, then Titus would support an arranged marriage between Alejandro and Britt.”
“Manipulate? How?” Rocco asked.
“Erased certain memories and replaced them with ones advantageous to Titus. The princess ended up with an entirely different recollection of the calls she overheard. Nothing related to his criminal activities.” Lachlan stifled his anger as he said, “Britt always knew Alejandro was in love with her, and he used her father’s predicament to trap her into an arranged marriage that would make him next in line to take over the cartel after her father. ”
“This lines up perfectly with Alejandro and Rakestraw’s MOs,” Everett said.
Lachlan pushed up from his chair, his mind swimming with the speculation.
“Perfect is an understatement. Alejandro used a bomb in that situation, too. The princess fled her country to the Aerie Islands after a thwarted bomb threat at a government building where she worked. Her family thought they were protecting her from a Quattro assassination attempt, not realizing they were playing right into Alejandro’s hands.
He kidnapped her after she arrived in the Aerie Islands, giving Dr. Rakestraw plenty of time to reprogram her memories while her family expected her to be off the grid. ”
Kane stood. “The car bomb was likely a decoy to kidnap Britt. Alejandro never meant for her to get hurt. Regardless of whether Britt remembered her life or had amnesia, it probably wouldn’t have changed his plans.
He needed Rakestraw to reprogram her memories from the moment she broke off her engagement with him and make her remember,” he paused, motioning his fingers in air quotes, then continued, “being in love with him, too.”
“That fucker!” Lachlan thundered as the theory took root as a warped reality. “That explains why all the details of her life were from before she met me.”
“And why he’d do everything in his power to get her back,” Bobby said. “Being in control of Quattro was only half of what he wanted. He probably still wants Britt to be his wife. And the sick bastard is willing to brainwash her into making that happen.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Lachlan said through gritted teeth.
Everett raised a hand. “Britt’s description of The Visitor is definitely not Alejandro, but he could have someone else doing the dirty work of kidnapping her and manipulating her memories.”
“I see you’re all convinced Alejandro is behind this,” Rocco said. “But what if it’s something much simpler?”
“Like what?” Lachlan frowned.
“Maybe what the woman in the Oasis Room believes is true—she’s not Britt. She has a family and friends who are looking for her and hoping she comes home.” Rocco said.
“That fucking family is Paloma and me,” Lachlan snapped. Glancing around the room, he saw that the others agreed with him. He knew the woman in that room—he didn’t need a DNA test or a psychiatrist or anyone else to convince him.
Britt had come back to him.
And he would make Alejandro Cerundolo regret the day he took Britt away.