by Angi Morgan
“I can’t find any princess hats anyway.”
“You know, Sage, you don’t have to have a princess hat to be a princess.”
“You don’t? But isn’t it more fun if you do?” She smiled and twirled. “What story are you going to tell?”
“Let’s go sit on the mattress so Jackson can take a nap. I mean rest ’cause Prince Jackson doesn’t take naps.” Then she tickled Sage. “Neither does Princess Sage. Right?”
“Right.”
They sat down and Tracey created a story about a prince and a princess who lived with their father, the king. When they asked the king’s name she told them King Parker. Sadly, the queen didn’t live with them anymore. The story went on and of course the kids recognized that it was about them.
“Then one day a horrible evil dragon swooped down and stole the beautiful princess and handsome prince. The dragon...” The kids held on to her hands tightly and snuggled a little closer. “What should we name the awful dragon?”
“Mack,” they said in unison.
“Okay. Mack the dragon was tired of flying around burning up all the bridges. So he went back to the cave where he held the princess and prince. ‘What do you want with us?’ said the beautiful princess.”
Tracey changed voices for each character in the story. The kids were nodding off. Both rested their heads in her lap when one of the Macks came through the door, bolted it behind him and sat on the bench.
She stopped referring to the dragon as Mack. There was no reason to antagonize one of them. And no reason to continue the story since both of the kids were asleep.
Tracey left them curled where they were and propped another blanket behind her head. She pretended to rest and assessed the room through half-closed lids. There didn’t seem to be any other way out. The next time they left her alone, she’d be bold and just look.
All those years growing up a rich kid, she’d been warned to be careful. Super careful. She was never allowed to go anywhere alone. Not until her second semester at Baylor.
She remembered the guy who looked like a college student and had followed her around campus. He even had season tickets to football games. Probably not the section he wanted, but her uncle’s money had bought him access to a lot.
It took begging her grandfather and whining that she had no friends to get him to call off the hounds. Promising that she’d be overly careful, she was finally on her own. That’s when she realized she didn’t really know how to make friends.
Then a bad date had shot her overprotective uncle into warlord status. He declared she didn’t have any rights and as long as he was paying the bills—blah blah blah. Poor little rich girl, right?
Who would have thought that the first time she’d be placed into real danger would be because she worked for a Texas Ranger? What a laugh her grandfather would have had about this mess.
So there she was, thinking about her grandfather, sitting awkwardly with two precious children asleep on her lap, praying that they’d grow up without being frightened of the world. And then more simply, she just prayed that they’d be able to grow up.
“Trace Trace?” Sage said sleepily. “What happened to the king? Did he get his kids back?” She yawned. “Did he get to be happy?”
“Sure, sweetie. He used his strong sword and killed the dragon. And all the Parkers lived happily ever after.”
“Trace...is your name Parker, too?”
“No, kidlet. It’s not.”
Sage drifted back to sleepy land giving Tracey more time to think about it. She wouldn’t be a part of the Parker happy-ever-after. It was time for her to ride into the sunset alone.
Chapter Twelve
Josh lost track of how many times they’d covered his face with the sweet-smelling gauze. Enough for him to have a Texas-size headache. Long enough that his body recognized he’d been in one position too long, lying across the metal flooring of a panel van. And long enough that his stomach thought his neck had been cut off.
The skyline through the van window showed only trees and stars. Definitely not the skyscrapers that would indicate a city. They could still be in Waco, but he had a feeling they’d driven closer to the state prison where Tenoreno was being held.
The men surrounding him were unmasked, but it was too dark to make out any of their faces. Now wearing garb like a strike force—military boots, pants, bulletproof vests, gun holsters strapped to their thighs. Tracey was right. The idea of calling each other Mack tended to be confusing. He had to admit that it was effective. But they didn’t act like a cohesive team.
Josh’s hands were taped behind him. Tightly. The hairs on his wrists pulled with each tug he tried to hide. There must be several layers because it wasn’t budging. He wouldn’t be getting free unless he had a knife.
For the Macks, it had been a good idea to knock him out cold while they traveled. His brain was still fuzzy while he attempted to soak up everything about his situation and process it for a way out. If he’d been awake, the problem would be resolved or at least he’d have a working theory.
Someone kicked the back of his thigh. He held himself in check, but a grunt of pain escaped. He tried not to move. He needed time for the cobwebs to clear. But there wasn’t any use trying to hide that he was awake. Even if he wasn’t alert.
“Masks on. He’s awake.”
The thought at the forefront of his mind was Jackson’s health and his family’s safety. He could only estimate how long his captors had been driving. It might still be early afternoon.
One step at a time.
“I need to talk to Tracey.”
If only he could get In-Charge Mack and his men to confirm what they had in store for him. As in why did they need him personally? Whatever it was, they felt like they needed hostages to keep him in line. Once they confirmed, he’d know how to proceed.
Or where to proceed.
“It’s time to earn your keep, lawman.” The guy who’d kicked him laughed.
They had his phone. Aiden must have texted the location information. Good, they also had his bag from the house. He had a few tricks in there that would help get his family back.
“We’re talking to the men that are with her in ten minutes. Behave and you might get an update.” The In-Charge Mack didn’t even glance back from the front seat.
Laughing Mack looked around, saw where they were, and then pulled a gun to point at Josh’s head. “Behave.” The gun went under a loose sweatshirt—still aimed at him.
They pulled even with another vehicle, the drivers nodded at each other and separated. He could see the other car lights in the rearview mirror as it did a three-point turn in the road and followed closely behind.
“Where are we?”
“Thanks to you, daddy dearest is scheduled for a private plane ride to get to trial. You’re our passport,” In-Charge Mack said from up front.
“Daddy? Aren’t you a little short to be Xander Tenoreno?”
Laughing Mack kicked out, connecting with Josh’s knee.
He’d actually confronted the son of Paul Tenoreno several times. At each encounter he’d looked him straight in the eye. The guy giving the orders here was only about five foot ten. Average height for an above-average criminal.
But he couldn’t reject the hunch that these men were regular employees of the Mafia ring in Texas. They were definitely well funded and prepared. The animosity that was associated with their talk about Tenoreno was a bit intense. Why free a man you hated so that he could run the operation again?
“If you’d told me your plans a little earlier, I could have saved you the trouble. They pulled all my authority yesterday when you kidnapped my kids.” He wanted to see their reaction. What was their ulterior motive? “I can’t get you on that plane.”
“Don’t be so modest, Major. We have every con
fidence in your abilities.” The one calling the shots turned to show him a picture of Tracey with the kids. “We also have very little confidence that Mack in toy land will keep his cool if you don’t get the job done. He’s itchy to pull the trigger, don’t ya know.”
“Isn’t it time to stop talking in riddles and tell me what you really want?”
“You haven’t figured it out? But you’re so good at this. Your Texas Ranger buddies got poor old Mr. Tenoreno moved to the Holliday Transfer Facility. He’s waiting to be flown to Austin. We’re going to pay him a visit.”
“I can’t get you inside there, either.” Josh attempted to push himself up to a sitting position. His ankles were also taped tightly together. He pushed on a hard-sided case.
“Are you being dense on purpose?” Laughing Mack lashed out with his boot, catching the back of Josh’s leg.
“Your kid here is going to make walking anywhere a problem. Call him off. I need my knees.” Josh made note of how many guns were in the van.
“Mack, mind your manners.” He spoke to the guy still pointing the gun in Josh’s direction, but he pointed twice like he was giving directions to the driver.
Josh used the bumps in the road to help shift his position. He was finally upright and could see more of the view. A field, lots of trees, nothing special out the front. But when he glanced out the back, just behind the second vehicle were soccer and baseball fields.
He knew exactly where they were—Huntsville Municipal Airport. He’d assumed that they’d attack here. He’d just expected a little more time to figure out how to throw a kink in their plan.
“Whatever you’re planning, I’m not doing a damn thing until I talk to Tracey. And I mean talk, not just see her picture.”
“I figured as much. Almost time.”
The van started up, speeding down the dirt road, then pulled under a canopy of trees. The second vehicle pulled in next to them.
“They’ve left the prison. We have six minutes,” the Mack next to him said.
“No Tracey. No cooperation.”
“Dial the phone. Remember it’s face-to-face and you watch,” he told Laughing Mack. “Make it quick.”
One thing about this outfit, everyone in it obeyed In-Charge Mack without hesitation. Tracey’s face was on the phone screen. She reached out toward the phone at her end, looked sharply away and then back at him.
“They won’t let me hold the kids so you can see them but they’re doing okay. Sage has been watching over her brother, as usual.””
“And how is Jackson?”
“He’s doing okay. I’m sure he’s going to bounce right back after this.”
“Have they hurt you?”
“Nothing that a shot of whiskey wouldn’t cure. Did I leave it in the middle of the house?”
“What was that?” In-Charge Mack asked.
“She said she wanted some whiskey,” Laughing Mack relayed to him.
“That’s enough. Disconnect.”
“Josh? I wanted to tell you that I—”
Laughing Mack got a big kick out of cutting her off.
Tell me what?
He didn’t have time to process. They opened the van doors and Josh could see the airfield.
“Out.”
He lifted his bound ankles and the Mack nearest the door sliced them free with a knife Josh hadn’t seen. He really did need to clear his head and become aware of his surroundings. Think this thing through.
The Macks moved the hard-sided case that had been near his feet to outside and flipped the lid open. Machine pistols.
“You really think those are necessary?”
“Glad you asked, Major. Obviously, this is the backup. If you fail, we’re bringing down that plane.”
“What exactly do you want me to do? I thought you were here to free Tenoreno.” Josh kept his eyes moving. Trying to remember how each of them stood. If they showed any signs of weakness or additional personal weapons.
“Wrong, Major. You’re here to kill him.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tracey was taking a huge risk. What if they weren’t rescued before Jackson needed this cartridge? And what if she didn’t use the insulin on the sleeping guard? It might be her only opportunity to try to escape. What if Josh didn’t—
No! Josh was coming back. He’d never give up and neither would she. She put the kids to sleep on the mattress, leaving their shoes on their feet so they’d be ready. Jackets and bags were by the door. They wouldn’t leave without them. It was their routine and no reason to argue.
Taking this risk was necessary, not just a shot in the dark. It would work. She knew what the side effects of too much insulin were. In a healthy person, he’d probably vomit, but he’d eventually pass out. She didn’t know how many men were on the other side of the door.
The young man watching them had already complained about how warm it was while wearing the ski mask. The room had its own thermostat. It looked like an old office space. She switched the cool to heat and cranked the temperature up. It was going to be unbearable in a couple of hours. Their guard would get hotter, faster—of course, so would they.
The last thing to do while he was gone from the room was to prep the needle with insulin and hide it. They’d take the emergency kit back and return it to the other room as soon as a Mack came to keep an eye on them. Their ultimate weapon to keep her in line was taking away the emergency kit for Jackson.
“I bet your boss wouldn’t like knowing that you don’t stay in here while I check Jackson’s blood sugar. Nope. None of this would be possible if you did,” she said to herself, capping the needle. She couldn’t keep it in her pockets. They’d see it for sure.
So she arranged toys and the kid-sized kitchen station near the bench where the guards sat. It was simple to keep the syringe with the toy utensils. She snagged one and put it on the table so she’d have an excuse to exchange it later.
She could give the injection without the guard feeling more than a small prick on his skin. Insulin didn’t need a vein, just fatty tissue. If he was sound asleep it might not bother him at all. But she had a sharp toy ready as an explanation. She also moved the trash can closer to the bench...just in case.
They should be coming back into the room soon. She’d been wondering for far too long about life and what the next stage held for her. When all this was done and over, there wouldn’t be any waiting. It was so much better to find out. To know.
Leaving Waco, leaving her friends, leaving Josh wasn’t her first choice. Waiting wasn’t, either. She had to stop being a scaredy cat and start living life. That meant handing in her resignation to Josh and telling him how she really felt.
Forty-eight hours ago she’d been ready to give her notice and walk away. Even if it broke her heart. Well, there was no doubt her heart would shatter now, but it was a resilient organ and she’d manage. She could walk away if Josh didn’t ask her to stay.
The locks on the door turned. She dropped her head into her arms on the tiny table and calmed her breathing. She was physically exhausted from a lack of sleep, food and an abundance of adrenaline pumping constantly. Forcing herself to pretend to be asleep might just slow her physical state to let it happen.
Being bent in half like she was wouldn’t let her stay asleep for long.
The same guard came straight to the table to collect the emergency kit. She barely saw him through her lashes, watching his silhouette turn off the lamps in the corners, and then sit on the bench.
First step...check.
Rest, rest, rest. She was going to need it to get to safety.
There wasn’t a clock in the room and they’d taken her watch—another way to make her dependent on them for Jackson’s care. But her body told her she’d been in the cramped position far too long and she hoped her guard wa
s deep in sleep. She pushed her damp hair away from her face.
It was definitely beyond hot.
She took the toy spatula and stood, trying not to make any noise. She’d cleared her path, thinking this through earlier. No squeaky toys, nothing to trip over.
She kept on her toes, not allowing her boot heels to make noise against the linoleum floor. She exchanged the toy gadget for the syringe and removed the needle cover. Still no peep from the kids or their guard. She looked at him; he’d rolled the ski mask up his face, covering his eyes. The smooth chin meant he’d either just shaved or he didn’t need to.
The covered eyes meant it would be easier to follow through on her plan. He’d have to move the mask before he could see where she was. She risked a lot by tugging a little at his black T-shirt, but if she could stick this in his side...
Done.
This Mack, sitting on the bench, turned and grunted. He didn’t wake. She replaced the cap, threw the syringe away like all the other supplies from earlier and tiptoed to sit on the mattress with the kids.
It didn’t take long before their guard moaned, then held his stomach like he was cramping. Before Mack could reach the door, he detoured for the garbage.
Tracey didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t let herself think about what would happen to the young man. He was a kidnapper. He’d threatened Jackson’s life. She was going to make sure the little boy was safe.
No matter the cost. No matter who she had to knock out with insulin to do it. Even in the dim light she could tell he was sweating and disoriented. He was unsteady on his feet and faintly asked for help.
She wanted to. She had to cover her ears, she wanted to help him so badly.
Instead, she got the kids up and sat them in chairs. Jackson was a little woozy and put his head back onto the table. When the young guard began leaning to one side, she struggled with him to put him on the mattress. Then searched his pockets for a cell phone.
Nothing except the keys to the doors.
Before she scooted the twins out of the room, she checked out the other side of the door. No one was there. She ventured farther, listening before she turned each corner. No signs of the other men. She quietly headed back and saw both of their heads poking around the edge.
