“What are you waiting for, Doctor? You have a patient to tend to. And I expect you to be gentle.”
She felt her lip curling in revulsion at him, but she slowly moved closer to him. “I’ll need you to remove your shirt.” She waited as he shed his shirt, clasping her hands together to try to stop her tremors. “What do you want with me?” She kept her face impassive as she asked the question. He probably already knew she was terrified, and she imagined he was getting great joy from it. But she didn’t want to give him any more satisfaction than she could control.
He looked at her, again with the same sickening smile. “There are many things I could want with you, girl. What do you think I want with you?”
“I honestly have no idea. I don’t carry much cash—”
His bitter laugh caused chills to slide down her back. The man was evil. And there was definitely something missing upstairs. “Do I really strike you as a petty thief? What gives you the impression I need money?”
“I-I don’t know. What else could you want?”
“Answers. Revenge. Justice.”
Anya poured antiseptic on his wound, and he hissed in pain. The antiseptic hadn’t been needed, but she had hoped it would be uncomfortable enough he would lose his grip on the gun. Unfortunately, her plan failed. She blotted at the wound with bits of gauze, and the fabric quickly soaked with blood. Maybe he would lose enough blood that he would weaken and she could overpower him. She glanced up at him and was startled to find him watching her intently as if he could read her thoughts.
“I can hold pressure to the front while you treat the back,” he said harshly, grabbing a few of the gauze pads and pressing them tightly against his wound.
Swallowing hard, she focused on his back. Answers. Revenge. Justice. What did he mean? How could she be involved in anything like that? She pressed the gauze against his back where the round had exited and caused the most damage.
She paused to thread the needle and realized her hands were shaking so badly, she wasn’t going to be able to do it. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath through her nose, willing her hands to be still long enough that she could get the thread through the needle. She held her hands in her lap, and with deep concentration, she was finally able to do it.
She didn’t warn him before she pressed the needle through his flesh. “Damn it, puta! A little warning would be appreciated.”
“You didn’t warn me before you smashed into my home,” she snapped back at him, then bit her lip, remembering he held the gun. What did he want? Answers. Revenge. Justice. Stryker.
Anya’s stomach clenched. That was the only possible answer to all of this. It had to do with something Stryker was involved in. Could it be the last assignment he had just completed? That explained why he’d mentioned Stryker’s name at the door. He’d known she had some form of relationship with him. To what extent, she didn’t know.
If this man was connected to the people who’d committed the horrific crimes she’d seen in the photographs, he would have the ability to do many gruesome things. Hadn’t Stryker mentioned they hadn’t caught everyone? She felt bile rise in her throat. That had to be the connection. He was out for revenge for what Stryker’s team had done to his crew in Mexico.
She finished his stitches and realized she needed scissors to cut the thread. It would be the perfect weapon. “I need to grab my scissors to cut the thread,” she said casually, beginning to slide off the bed, but his arm snaked out and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her painfully close to his body.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” He was shaking his head at her. “Use your teeth.”
“My teeth? To cut the thread?” She was incredulous.
“Yes. It’s how it’s been done around the world for centuries. There’s no way I’m putting a weapon in your hands. Now, finish your damn job.”
Anya leaned down and took the thread in her lips and tugged at it until it snapped off. She shuddered and wiped her tongue with a piece of gauze. He laughed at her, then turned farther so she could easily access the entry wound.
Her aim had been good. Just not good enough. The bullet had entered just a couple of inches above his heart. If only her shooting had been more accurate. The blood flow had reduced significantly, making it easier for her to stitch the wound closed. Much to her relief, she didn’t need to “cut” the thread again. She pressed fresh gauze to his front and back, then grabbed the surgical tape she had and secured the fabric in place.
“We’re done,” she said, sitting back as far away from him as she could on the bed.
He turned to face her more fully, and the corners of his mouth lifted again in that twisted smile that made her stomach churn. “Oh no, girl. We’re just getting started.”
* * *
“What I’m asking you isn’t difficult. I know you’re familiar with this man: Stryker. I watched him come in here for a short time in the middle of the night. Also, you wouldn’t have let me in if it hadn’t been for me mentioning his name earlier. So, either you know him, or you really know him. Either way plays well for me. So, who is he?”
“I’ve already told you. He’s a rancher. He was in the rodeo circuit before now—”
“Let’s try something different,” he growled. “Why don’t you tell me about the men Stryker works with. How many of them are there? Do you know anything about them?”
“Go to hell.” She readied herself again. It was easier to get slapped around by him than to face his onslaught of questions.
Instead, he grabbed ahold of her hair and yanked her head backwards, holding a blade at her throat, a blade she hadn’t noticed before. This was it. This was how she was going to die. Her heart thundered. Was it going to hurt?
“No wonder he likes you. You’re the same as him. Arrogant and overconfident. Do you think I won’t kill you? Do you think he will protect you? No one can protect you now. You belong to me.”
“I belong to nobody. You have me confused with someone else. I never belonged to him either.” The comment was far from the truth. I belonged to him the moment I gave him my heart.
“You need to tell me the truth, girl. Your answers about him could save his life. And possibly your own.”
Save Stryker’s life? Good grief, what has this madman done? Is he holding Stryker captive somewhere? Did he grab him when he left my clinic only a couple of hours ago? How can my answers save him? “I’ve told you everything I know. If there was something more I could tell you, I wouldn’t. You don’t even hold a candle to Stryker.”
Anger flashed in his eyes once again. “Why don’t you tell me where you hid the flash drive he gave you earlier today? Show me where you hid it.”
“Hid what? Stryker didn’t give me anything.”
“There are few reasons a man gets involved with a woman. The sex is good”—he eyed her up and down—“she is rich and he’s milking her for every dime she has, which obviously isn’t the case here, or he’s using her for something. The first could be true, but if he was here for sex with you this morning, you must not be very satisfied because he left so quickly. The second we’ve already decided isn’t true. That leaves us with the third as the most likely.”
“You’re disgusting. I have no idea what you’re talking about. There is nothing that he gave me. And your assumption about a man’s relationship with a woman is preposterous. You’ve probably never had a decent relationship with a woman in your life.”
“Very well. Let’s just hope he doesn’t feel the same about you. Otherwise, you’ll be left to die a very, very painful death.”
* * *
Lunchtime hadn’t come anywhere near early enough for Stryker. When he’d gotten back home, he’d found Buzz already working on the report to send to Admiral Haslett and Phantom jotting down notes to help jog his memory as he read through the report in case they needed to add anything. While all three of them were ru
nning on zero sleep, they knew there was a critical time period to pull out information from memory, and they had to take advantage of it while they could.
Once Buzz was done preparing the report, they would then all take a look at it to make sure nothing was missing. It was a failproof method they’d used for handling debriefings for years, and Stryker was grateful for the way his team worked so seamlessly together, listening and probing where appropriate.
Finally, they were able to get the document completed, all of them agreed to it, and Buzz uploaded it to a secure drive for Admiral Haslett. And now, lunchtime had rolled around, and he was on his way to see Anya. Her sweet words still floated through his mind. I love you. Oh, how he prayed that she still did. Because he had come to the shocking realization that he couldn’t make it without her. He needed her in his life, no matter what.
He’d told her a great deal more than he had originally planned early that morning. But he hadn’t wanted to keep anything from her anymore. For her safety, he was going to need to convince her to move out to the ranch. She could still be a veterinarian. That was part of who she was. But it would be too dangerous for her to be on her own. He knew she wanted to expand her clinic. If they could just hire someone else to assist her, someone that he knew could protect her…
He was getting ahead of himself. He first needed to get her to forgive him for keeping his life secret from her. And then he needed to convince her he was still a man worthy of her love. Am I worthy of her love? Wouldn’t she be better off if I wasn’t in her life at all? No. I’ll give her everything her heart could ever desire. I’ll hold her every night and drive her nightmares away. But can I give her my heart?
Stryker hadn’t given much thought to his former wife in the past few weeks. Instead, he’d been obsessed with Anya. His life before Anya seemed insignificant and lacking. He knew Anya was nothing like his ex. Anya had her own life and was independent, almost to a fault. He didn’t need to worry about her telling him to leave the navy to devote more time to her. If anything, he may be asking her to cut back her hours at the clinic so he could have more time with her.
The thought brought a smile to his lips. He doubted she would view that request favorably. He could just see her reaction—fists on her hips, one foot tapping, her lips pursed in disapproval. He already knew her better than he knew himself. And he needed to bury his face against her neck and breathe in her heady scent and know there was still good in the world.
It was close to eleven thirty in the morning by the time he pulled up to the clinic. He knew she was probably already back from her rounds at the ranches and open for business and went to the front door, not surprised when it swung open for him. But everything changed as soon as he stepped inside.
Immediately he drew his gun from where he kept it tucked safely at his side and calmed his breathing, taking into account everything around him. File cabinets had been dumped on their sides, with papers spilled all over the floor. The main computer monitor in the reception area had been tossed to the floor, and he carefully stepped around it to avoid the crunch of the glass beneath his feet. He knew the business wasn’t large enough to afford a receptionist, so he wasn’t surprised to find no one there.
He entered her treatment room cautiously, checking behind the door and in each corner before moving farther in. The medicine cabinet and drawers stood open, and it was obvious from the many vacant spaces that medication had been taken. Was this a robbery? Had someone hit her clinic to get drugs? It didn’t make any sense, though. A person had to be very desperate to take medication from a veterinarian.
He eased his way through the room slowly, finding more broken glass. That was when he noticed the bright blotches of red on the floor. He didn’t have to check to know what the substance was. He’d seen it often enough. A cold sweat broke out on his body. Was it Anya’s blood?
He shifted his attention to her private quarters, easing through the door that separated the room from the rest of the clinic. Goose bumps covered his entire body and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Her bed had been slashed with a knife. Her desk was turned upside down, with the drawers hanging out and papers strewn everywhere. Someone had been searching for something. And then, he saw, beneath one scattered pile of papers, a large pool of blood. Let her be okay.
He walked farther into the room, scanning every inch carefully, keeping his gun raised, prepared for anything. He rounded her bed, hoping to find her hiding on the other side, hoping to find her shaken but safe. But there was nothing.
Finally, he entered her bathroom, and when he yanked back the shower curtain, he froze and icy fingers clutched at his chest. Turn over the flash drive or she dies. The words scrawled across the bathroom tiles were written in blood.
Stryker’s hands trembled as he lowered his gun. Despite their best efforts, someone in the cartel had survived. Either that, or they were dealing with the person in the shadows who was orchestrating the cartel’s movements, and that was even more terrifying. But Stryker made a promise to himself in that very moment. Whoever hurt his Anya would die slowly and painfully. By his hands.
* * *
It was inevitable the sheriff would be called out. When her first client showed up and saw the disaster of the place, he had called the sheriff. By then, Stryker was observing everything from a distance. He had combed through the entire clinic, but there was nothing to show what had happened to Anya, other than the fact that she was gone, a lot of medication was missing, and there was a lot of fucking blood all over the place. He’d been able to clear the writing on the wall with a bottle of Clorox and some hard scrubbing. He knew it would leave a forensics team puzzled and scratching their heads, but he couldn’t risk having such a note discovered.
The sheriff had a better chance of identifying where the blood had come from, of identifying fingerprints, and of trying to piece together what had happened. Stryker had been able to collect samples and was going to have them expedited to the navy crime lab in Corpus. It would help them to take care of things, and it would be a helluva lot faster than what the sheriff in this tiny town would be able to pull together.
As soon as he had seen the message on the wall, Stryker had contacted Admiral Haslett. His CO needed to know that things had gone seriously sideways. Fortunately, Haslett had answered himself.
They had already discovered there was a problem within Admiral Haslett’s ranks somewhere. The extent of it was beyond him. He was driving himself mad trying to think of who had the power to pull off this type of kidnapping. It was obvious it was someone with ties to the cartel. Whether that person was in the navy or not was a question that disturbed him a great deal.
His next call was to his team. He hated waking Buzz, but he needed his expertise. He briefly filled him in and asked Buzz to gather the team and start trying to find any information that could point them in the right direction.
A crowd had gathered to watch, and for the true busybodies of the town, it couldn’t get any juicier. There was a crime scene, and the area’s veterinarian was missing. Of course, her clients were genuinely concerned for her and were checking in periodically to find out if there were any updates.
Finally, realizing that he wasn’t doing Anya any good by hovering around, he left, speeding back to the ranch. The heat of the day beat down on his back as he walked up to the ranch house. Now, more than ever, he needed his team. He had never felt so out of control in his life. Fuck, he didn’t even know where this madman wanted him to drop off the drive. How was he supposed to save her when the man who’d taken her clearly wasn’t operating with a full deck?
He could hear the men in the dining room. His gut clenched as he walked toward the room. Had they been able to uncover any information? If so, why hadn’t they contacted him yet? What if what they had uncovered wasn’t something they wanted to tell him over the phone?
Stryker looked around at the men that were hi
s family and fought the anger and fear that raged within him. “The sheriff’s at her place, but they have no leads. Anything here?”
Buzz shook his head. “Not yet. I’m combing through satellite imaging and anything else I can get my hands on to see if I can pick up anything.”
Phantom stood and approached him. “We’re here for you, brother. We’re going to catch the bastard who did this.”
Stryker nodded even though his gut churned with apprehension. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I think it’s Jefe who took her.”
Chapter 26
Anya had remained strong. She didn’t cry and she didn’t plead for any mercy, which only seemed to infuriate the man. He used duct tape to tape her hands together behind her back, then placed some over her mouth. She had glared at him furiously, but it did her little good.
He’d tossed her over his shoulder and hauled her out to his SUV. To her shock, he placed a black hood over her head. She heard him loading things in the back of the SUV and shivered when the back door slammed shut.
He started the SUV, and suddenly they were moving. They seemed to be driving around forever, and, even though her nerves were fried, the darkness of the hood and the rocking of the vehicle lulled her exhausted body into a restless sleep.
Anya came to with a rush of adrenaline and a barely suppressed scream. Her head was throbbing, and it was a struggle to lift it, but she did so, slowly. The pounding behind her eye sockets increased, and she tried to work the muscles in her jaw.
“Finally back to play?”
That voice…that horrible voice with the heavy accent was back. And very close to her ear. She tried to swing her arm to bat him away, only to find her hands were bound to something. She forced her eyes open.
Daylight struck her in the face, and she winced at the intensity of the brightness. Judging from the direction of the light, it was past noon, at least that much she could tell. How far past noon she wasn’t certain.
A SEAL Never Quits Page 23
