27. Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
By the time José led us back outside, Rosa had managed to feed us enough food to make up for most of what we’d missed over the last two days.
Isabella hugged her on the front porch. “Thank you. Dinner was wonderful.”
Rosa smiled as though thanks were unnecessary. “Go. You both need sleep. May peace be with you.”
Sleep sounded damn good.
The chapel sat directly across the road from their house, small and white beneath the dark sky. José unlocked the front door and led us inside.
Other than Lucian’s wedding, I hadn’t been inside a church in years, but some habits survived time, crime, and a spectacular number of sins. I genuflected toward the altar and crossed myself.
José glanced over at me. “Catholic?”
“Born and raised Irish Catholic. Mam would say she’d failed as a mother if she ever heard I’d walked into a church without showing respect.”
Isabella laughed softly beside me.
José smiled. “And you?”
“Mamá took me to Mass when I was little.” Isabella looked toward the altar. “After she died, I was never allowed to go again.”
Something in José’s expression softened.
“Then you are welcome here now.”
He led us through a side door into a community room filled with folding tables, stacked chairs, and boxes of donated clothing.
“Take whatever you need. There should be something close enough to fit.”
Close enough might be optimistic in my case, but I wasn’t criticizing free clothes.
Isabella chose a few things for herself while I dug through the men’s clothing and found a dark T-shirt. I pulled it on immediately. After spending the last few days bare-chested, having a shirt on again felt damn near civilized.
I found a button-down that looked large enough to fit without threatening the seams and added it to the clothes I’d take with me.
José opened another door at the rear of the building.
“The rectory is through here. We don’t have a resident priest right now, so the apartment is empty.”
The little apartment had a kitchenette with a small table, a modest living room, a bedroom with one bed and a narrow wardrobe, and a bathroom with an actual shower.
Sweet Jesus.
José crossed to the table and set down a cellphone and a small key.
“These belong to the church. Keep them tonight, and before you leave, put them back on the table.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded toward the exterior door. “The key is for this door. You can lock it from the inside, and I’ll secure the front of the church before I leave. No one will disturb you. If you need anything, I’ll be across the street.”
Then he left us alone.
I picked up the phone.
Time to let my brothers know I was still alive.
I put the phone on speaker and dialed the secure number Nik had drilled into all of us.
He answered on the second ring.
“Who’s this?”
“Nice to hear your voice too.”
The line went silent.
Then Nik said, “Lachlan?”
The relieved surprise in his voice lasted less than a second before control snapped back into place.
“Aye. I’m alive. I’m out of Delgado’s fucking compound, and we’re somewhere safe for the night.”
Keys clicked rapidly on his end.
“You’re at a chapel on the lower slopes of San Vicente.”
I glanced at the phone. “Of course you already know that.”
“Capilla Nuestra Senora del Refugio. You’re on a church-owned phone. I’m pulling the surrounding roads now.” More typing. “Stay where you are. I’ll send a team.”
“Whoa. Slow down.”
The keyboard stopped.
“I just spent two days in El Salvador looking for you, and after that feed cut out, I wasn’t sure if you were still alive.”
“And I appreciate the enthusiasm, but rolling foreign security through these hills is exactly how we turn this into an international incident and lead Marcela’s men straight to the people helping us.”
“We can send a small team.”
“No.” I leaned against the table. “No one knows we’ve made contact with you yet or where we are, and I want to keep it that way.
The family that fed us has children, and the farmer who brought us here has land and people depending on him.
I’m not rewarding any of them by painting targets on their backs. ”
A muffled voice sounded behind Nik, followed by Lucian, much louder.
“Put the fucking phone on speaker.”
A beat later, Nik put us on speaker.
“Lach?”
“Aye, brother.”
For a moment, Lucian didn’t say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough.
“Jesus Christ, Lach. I thought I was going to watch them kill you on that fucking feed.”
My throat tightened. If our positions had been reversed, seeing that proof-of-life feed end in gunfire and chaos would’ve gutted me.
“I know. I’m sorry you had to watch that.”
“Don’t apologize. Just tell me you’re really out—you’re safe.”
“I’m out. I’m standing. I’m safe for the moment.”
Lucian let out a hard breath. “Thank fuck.”
“You sound like hell.”
“You should see me.”
Nik cut back in. “That brings me to a question. You keep saying we. The last time either of us saw you, Isabella Delgado shot Ciro between the eyes, the man beside her killed Ciro’s guard, and half the compound started screaming over the radios before the feed went dark. So who exactly is with you?”
“Isabella.”
Nik spoke first. “The attorney is with you?”
“No. Marcela Reyes is the attorney.”
“What?”
“There are two Isabellas.”
Lucian muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
A few feet away, Isabella folded her arms loosely and listened without interrupting.
“The woman from New York is Isabella Marcela Reyes. She stole the identity of the woman here with me. The real Isabella was hidden at Finca La Cruzona her entire life.”
Nik was silent for a moment. “That explains the two women. It doesn’t explain why you’re trusting another Isabella with your life after what the first one did to you.”
Fair question. He still wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Because my Isabella kept me alive when Ciro had me chained in his dungeon.” Mouse’s brows rose at the claim.
I smirked and kept going. “She brought me food and water when helping me could’ve gotten her killed.
She got the key to my restraints and freed me, knowing damn well I could overpower her the second my hands were loose.
When Ciro died, and the whole compound went to hell, she could’ve used the chaos to save herself.
Instead, she came back and got me out. I’m standing here because of her. ”
“Your Isabella?” Nik huffed.
“Aye. My Isabella. The one who saved my life. Now let me finish.”
I moved on to what happened after the feed went dark.
“After Marcela shot Ciro, the compound split apart. Rafael Duarte had been her mother’s guard since before Isabella was born, and he’d spent the last twenty-five years protecting her under Ciro’s nose.
He used the chaos to get us out of the dungeon and moving toward the south side of the compound so we could escape. ”
Isabella’s folded arms tightened across her middle.
“He was shot before we made it through the service door.” I hated making her hear this again, but Nik needed the truth. “While Rafael was dying, he told Isabella that Ciro wasn’t her biological father. That he was.”
“She found that out while he was dying?” Nik asked.
“Aye.”
“Jesus.”
I continued before he could start asking questions.
“Marcela caught up with us along with her operations man and one of their gunmen. Isabella opened Marcela’s left cheek with a kitchen knife.
I killed the gunman, put a round through her operations man’s right upper arm, and we got through the service door before anyone else could reach us. ”
Nik took all of that in without comment.
“Tell me what I need to know about her.”
Typical Nik. He wasn’t asking out of curiosity; he was already building a file.
“You won’t find much. Ciro kept her locked down from birth. Her mother was a princess. Tell them exactly who she was, Mouse.”
For the first time, she stepped closer to the phone.
“Hello. My mother was Princess Eliana Sofija Dravik of Eslovenya.”
There was a beat of silence.
Lucian recovered first. “Hello, Isabella. It’s nice to meet you. And Lach, only you could get kidnapped and somehow come out with a princess who carries knives.”
I almost smiled. “Apparently.”
Nik’s greeting was considerably less welcoming. “You’ve been listening this whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then you understand why I have questions.”
“I do.”
She pulled out one of the chairs and sat as though being questioned by Nikolai Volkov was merely another problem to handle. Damn, I was proud of her.
“Ciro Delgado abducted my mother and brought her to La Cruzona before she had me,” she said. “I grew up there and was never allowed to leave. When I was thirteen, Mamá tried to escape with me, but our jeep went off a mountain road. She died, and somehow I survived.”
“I understand this is difficult for you, but I need to rule something out. Has anyone ever checked you for a tracker?”
Isabella blinked. “No.”
“Did Ciro ever put anything under your skin? Medical implant, contraceptive device, identification chip, anything you didn’t fully understand?”
“No.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m certain about what I know. I can’t promise what someone might have done to me when I was too young to remember.”
Nik continued. “And how do I know Marcela didn’t set this up too?”
My jaw tightened.
Isabella glanced at me before answering.
“You don’t.” She didn’t hedge. “You don’t know me.
You have every reason to be suspicious. But I could’ve left Lachlan chained in that dungeon and saved myself.
I went back because I’d gotten to know the man he really was—the one who protected me even while he was the one in chains.
I couldn’t leave him there for Marcela to torture again. ”
“That’s enough,” I said.
“Lach—”
“No, Nik. You wanted what you needed for the background check. You’ve got it. She saved my life, and her father died helping us get out. She’s under my protection. If Isabella doesn’t get on that plane, neither do I.”
Lucian spoke before Nik could answer.
“Well, that seems fairly clear.”
Nik exhaled. “I didn’t say she isn’t coming. I said I don’t trust her yet.”
“You don’t trust anyone.”
Nik let that pass and shifted back to the extraction. “I still want to send a small team to you.”
“And I still don’t want them here. We’ll find a way to get to wherever you need us without advertising where we spent the night. Just tell me where we need to be.”
“We’re set up at El Salvador International. I’ve already secured an FBO and have men in place. I’ll send you the information.”
The message came through a few seconds later.
“Got it.”
“I also need a travel identity for Isabella.”
I tipped my chin in her direction.
“What name do you want on the passport, Mouse?”
She took a moment before answering.
“Isabella Eliana Duarte.”
Rafael’s name.
The man had spent twenty-five years unable to call her his daughter where anyone could hear. Now she was taking his name with her when she finally left the country.
I repeated it for Nik.
He confirmed the spelling, then said, “I need a photograph. A plain wall is fine. Upload it to the secure link I’m sending to this phone now.”
The link appeared almost immediately.
I held up the phone. “Stand against the wall, Mouse.”
Isabella moved to the blank white section beside the wardrobe. I took the picture, made sure her face was clear, and sent it.
“Got it,” Nik said. “I can work with this.”
That left one problem Nik couldn’t solve from the airport: getting us there without leading Marcela’s men back to the people who had helped us.
José’s house sat directly across the road, and he’d offered to help with whatever we needed. He and Miguel knew the roads, the people who traveled them, and what would look ordinary enough not to attract attention.
“I’m going back over to José’s to see what he thinks is the safest way to get us to the airport,” I said. “Stay on the line. We can work out the rest together.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nik replied.
I turned to Isabella. “Why don’t you take a shower while I’m gone? After the last few days, I can’t think of much that sounds better, and I fully intend to be next in line when I get back.”
“That does sound wonderful.”
I stepped closer, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against me long enough to kiss the top of her head.
“I won’t be long, Mouse.”
“I’ll be here.”
I released her, picked up the phone and key, and headed across the road to José’s house. The lock clicked behind me before I reached the road.
By the time I returned to the rectory, José, Nik, and I had worked out enough of a plan to get Isabella and me to the airport without bringing a small private army into the countryside.
The rest could wait until morning.
I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and relocked it.
The shower was running behind the partly open bathroom door.