Epilogue
Spike was alone in his cabin. Sitting on his couch, staring into space.
Things had been hectic since Jasna had been kidnapped and then rescued.
He and the other owners of The Refuge had racked their brains to figure out how the girl could have gotten from the dilapidated cabin to the bunkers, but were no closer to figuring it out today than they were when it happened.
They’d also reviewed their safety protocols and had decided to add more security cameras around the lodge and the cabins, as well as game cameras throughout their property.
They’d done all they could under the circumstances. And even though he should be relaxing after a long day of work, he couldn’t.
He was restless. He couldn’t even say exactly why. He loved The Refuge. Was grateful to Brick for inviting him to be a part of it.
He’d also loved being a member of the famed Delta Force special forces teams in the Army, especially the camaraderie he’d had with his teammates. But he’d burned out. He’d been deployed more often than he’d been home his last two years in the military…had seen too much death and destruction.
He might not have the PTSD issues his friends and guests at The Refuge suffered, but that didn’t mean he was unaffected by everything he’d seen and done.
And now that he’d been at The Refuge for years, he felt…
itchy. Seeing both Brick and Tonka settling down with two of the most amazing women he’d had the privilege to meet, had him wondering if he’d ever be as lucky.
Unlike a lot of men, Spike was more than ready.
He was almost forty and didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone.
But finding his match was proving to be extremely difficult, even more so in their sparsely populated corner of New Mexico.
His phone rang, startling Spike and making him frown. No one ever called him. Well, hardly anyone. He wasn’t close with his parents or sister, and while he did his best to keep in touch with his former Army teammates, they usually emailed or texted.
Looking down, he was surprised to see Bubba’s name on the screen.
“Yo! Bubba! What’s up?” Spike said as he answered the call.
“Not much. You know, same ol’ shit, different day,” his former teammate quipped.
They made small talk for a few minutes, before Bubba got around to the reason for his call. “Hey, you heard from Woody lately?”
Spike frowned. “No, why?”
“It’s probably nothing. But I got a call from his sister Reese yesterday, and she wanted to know if I’d heard from him. It took some cajoling, but eventually I got her to tell me what was up.”
“And?” Spike asked when his old friend didn’t immediately continue.
Bubba sighed. “Apparently, he went down to Colombia a couple weeks ago. He told Reese he’d only be gone a week, tops. He’s not back, and she hasn’t heard from him.”
“Shit. He went down there to find Isabella, didn’t he?” Spike asked, sitting forward in his chair.
“Yeah. Things aren’t good down there. Reese said Woody got an email from her, begging for his help in getting her and her brother out of the country.”
“Fuck,” Spike swore again. “And she hasn’t heard from him? Reese, I mean?”
“No. But that’s only part of why I’m calling.”
Spike’s stomach clenched.
“Reese is planning on heading down to Colombia to find him.”
“What the hell?” Spike said, leaping up to pace.
He only vaguely remembered Woody’s younger sister from when she’d visited her brother a time or two, when they were actually in the country between assignments.
He remembered a tall, curvy woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.
She’d always been impeccably dressed, and very shy and quiet.
“She can’t do that. Does she even speak Spanish?
What the hell does she think she’s gonna do? ”
“I don’t know, man. That’s why I was hoping you’d heard from Woody, so we could get Reese to stand down,” Bubba replied.
Rubbing his forehead, which was suddenly throbbing with a headache, Spike tried to recall everything he knew about Isabella Hernandez.
She’d been their translator for a mission they’d been on not long before Spike had gotten out of the Army.
She was in her early twenties at the time, and Woody had fallen fast and hard for the beautiful woman.
She had a younger brother—he was in his teens when they’d been in the country—but that was all Spike remembered.
Woody had obviously kept in touch with Isabella, and Spike wasn’t surprised that he’d rushed to her aid when she requested help.
He was no longer in the Army, and had every right to go where he wanted, when he wanted.
But for him not to keep in touch while gone—especially with Reese, who he was very protective of—meant something had gone wrong.
“I’ll catch a flight to Kansas City tomorrow,” Spike told his friend. “I’m sure Woody’s fine. That asshole’s only used up five of his nine lives.”
“Awesome. I’d go down there myself, but my wife is going to have our baby any day now,” Bubba said, the relief easy to hear in his tone.
“Congrats, man. And no worries, I’ll talk some sense into Reese and do what I can to find out what’s going on with Woody.”
“Keep me in the loop?” Bubba asked.
“Of course. And tell Katie hello for me.”
“I will. And…thanks, Spike.”
“No need to thank me. I’ll be in touch.”
“Later.”
“Later.” Spike clicked off the connection and took a deep breath before turning to head to the laptop he’d left on the small table next to the kitchen.
He never ate there—he hated eating alone—and he used the table more as a desk than anything else.
He needed to buy a ticket to Kansas City.
He’d meet with Reese Woodall, get all the information she had on Woody and where he’d been headed, and if necessary, he’d go down to Colombia and drag Woody’s ass back to the States himself.
His friend knew better than to go into a situation alone. But if Isabella had told him she and her brother were in danger, there was no telling what Woody would do.
Spike just hoped the sister wasn’t as impulsive as his friend. The last thing he needed to worry about was tracking her down, as well as his former teammate.
* * *