She sucked down a deep breath and plunged her head into the cool water. It took a little bit of slithering around to get her head, neck and shoulders submerged, but she managed it. Her stony-faced rescuer guided her, his touch firm, pressing her down just enough that she wondered if he’d hold her there until he was done.
Lacey fought against the urge to gasp and blocked out that thought.
She could hold her breath for close to two minutes, but that was with some warm-up. She was an excellent swimmer and diver. Had to be, in her line of work. The best episodes were where she risked her life, and there were few places as dangerous—and magical—as the ocean.
His hand gripped the collar, holding it away from her skin. She could feel the tool and his knuckles working against her.
Her lungs began to burn.
She let out a little air through her nose, counting off the seconds.
The water muffled his muttered curses.
Something must not be going right.
She gripped the sides of the makeshift trough and squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
Much longer and she’d need to come up for air.
She felt a metallic snick echo through the water and the weight of the collar fell off her shoulders. The man grasped her and pulled her up.
Lacey tossed her head back, sending her soaked hair flying around, and gasped for breath.
“Did it work?” She patted at her neck and shoulders.
“We need a container. Something we can put the water and it in. Hurry.” He pushed to his feet, leaving her sitting in the dirt and mud.
When all this was over, she wanted an explanation, a shower and then to lay in peace for hours.
She got to her feet, wobbling slightly, and glanced around.
“Hey, five-gallon bucket. Will that do?” She pushed a bush aside and grabbed the handle of the bucket.
Whatever had been inside was congealed and smelled like death, but there was a lid.
“That’ll do.” Her rescuer took the bucket from her and set it next to the trough.
Her explosive collar sat in the bottom, glistening like some sort of dangerous, aquatic creature.
The man picked up the barrel and sloshed the water and collar into the bucket. Lacey scrambled to get a grip on the other side and between them, they emptied most of the contents into the five-gallon bucket. He clamped the lid on top and carried it back to the truck.
“Come on, we need to get out of here,” he said.
“Why bring that with us?” She jogged around to the passenger side and got in. With trepidation, she eyed the bucket he strapped to the tail gate with bungee cords.
He climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted into reverse.
“Do you make it your mission to answer one out of five questions ask of you?” She didn’t want to be ungrateful, but damn it, she’d been bossed around on pain of death for long enough. She wanted someone to answer a simple question.
“Yes,” he replied.
The truck shot backward. She yelped and braced a hand on the dash while scrambling to get her seatbelt buckled.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“You get to ask questions, but I don’t?”
“Just making conversation. You seem a little tense.” He whipped the truck around on the shoulder of the road and merged with the fast-paced traffic.
“Lacey. That’s my name. What’s yours?” She sucked down a deep breath while her heart hammered against her ribs.
“Shane. Nice to meet you, Lacey.”
“Do you pick up all the ladies like this?” She laughed, half delirious on adrenaline and disbelief.
“No.”
“Boy, how am I so lucky?”
“Why were they holding you, Lacey?”
“They couldn’t get any of my sponsors to pay the ransom, and they refused to let me go without some sort of compensation.”
“How do I know you weren’t working for them?”
“How—really?” Lacey gaped at the man and briefly imagined a swift kick to the balls.
“I need to make sure I’m not endangering our clients by bringing you along.” He glanced at her.
The nerve.
He’d just de-bombed her and now he was having second thoughts.
Lacey dug into her pocket.
“Do you know what this is?” She held out the tiny body camera she used for on-the-go recording.
“Action cam?”
“Sort of, but yeah. This should be all the evidence you need to identify every one of those bastards.” She swallowed, remembering all too well the night they’d scooped her up off the street.
“Lacey, breathe. You’re okay.” Shane reached over and briefly squeezed her knee. “That recording will help a lot of people. How’d they get you?”
“I... I was in Negril. I’d heard this one café had the best smoked fish. I ate until I almost made myself sick and while walking back to my hotel this truck stopped. A guy got out. He was American. He pointed a gun at me and told me to get in the back of their truck.” Lacey closed her eyes. “That was...weeks ago.”
Rain pelted the windshield.
It’d rained that night, too. She remembered getting soaked, her tears mingling with the rain, shivering. It’d felt like the whole world was crying with her.
“Why the water and tinfoil?” she asked to get the conversation off her.
“The device around your neck isn’t large enough to have much of a detonator or be very complicated. If it’s even an explosive—which it might not be—it’s likely on some sort of short range radio frequency. The tin foil disrupts that signal, and the water would prevent any detonation from taking place. Keeping it in water is about minimizing the blast.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, as though it were obvious.
“I wondered if it was real, or if they just slapped something around my neck to scare me.” Lacey pulled her knees up to her chest, perching her feet on the edge of the seat.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“I should have... I know better than to let something like this happen to me. I’ve traveled around the world on my own.” She shivered. Oh, she’d been detained a number of times, but after a little sweet-talking she normally got to go her own way. But not this time.
“You stayed alive. That’s something.” Shane glanced at her. “You said your sponsors wouldn’t put up your ransom? What do you do?”
“I’m a travel blogger.” She laughed, a bitter sound in the otherwise silence of the truck cab. “That’s why I have the cameras. Well, camera now. They destroyed the rest of my equipment, I think.”
“You can make a living doing that?”
“I get by. My sponsors, though, they wouldn’t pay the ransom, and my family doesn’t have that kind of money.” She swiped at her cheeks. Marcos had called her sister once. Hearing her voice had nearly killed Lacey.
“You’re safe now. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Who are you guys?” She eyed the ridges of his bullet proof vest under his shirt.
“Aegis Group, ma’am.”
She had no idea who—or what—Aegis Group was, but she was sure as hell grateful to them.
3.
Marcos glanced at the latest team to walk through the doors. Soaking wet. The tropical storm bearing down on them was bad.
“Well?” He prayed they’d found something.
Alex Spicer, the team lead, shook his head.
“Not a thing? Nothing?”
“No, sir.”
Marcos clenched his hands into fists.
Payment for Tommy’s next treatment was coming up, and fast. Those were not small installments, and Marcos had to have every bit of the money from this job to cover it. If they didn’t push forward, if Tommy was denied the next round, they’d have to start all over again. Marcos wasn’t sure the little boy could handle a devastating blow like that.
When he found out who those bastards were, who their employer was, who their families were—he’d mak
e them pay.
His son’s life was on the line, and all these people had to do was part with a little money.
Marcos didn’t get it. What he wouldn’t do for a happy, healthy kid...
“God damn it!” Marcos picked up the plate Lacey had delivered his breakfast on and hurled it at the wall.
The ceramic broke apart, shattering into hundreds of little pieces.
He braced his hands on the desk.
Think.
He had to stop focusing on Tommy.
His team knew this island, the people, and they had an in with the police. Whoever this hired team was, they didn’t have that sort of local connection.
“We need resources looking for them. The storm’s blowing in early, so they won’t be able to make it off the island.” Marcos straightened. “They’re hiding somewhere, and we need to find them before they make it to the airport. Get our cop on the phone, and someone put out feelers for some local tough guys. A bunch of white-ass Americans are going to stick out. Move.”
The room emptied in record time.
Now for the part Marcos was not excited about. He’d need to put in a call to the client and explain the current turn of events, on top of putting the hostages’ family off for a few days. At least he could blame the storm.
Marcos picked up the satellite phone, a thought coming lose.
Lacey Miles.
They’d taken her, too.
And that bitch had a social media addiction. How long before he could track her that way? Before she made contact with her family?
Perhaps going soft on the girl would pay off. He wouldn’t say it, but deep down he’d felt...bad that the girl’s family didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about her. Used to be that wouldn’t have occurred to him, but becoming a dad had changed Marcos in ways that he hadn’t predicted.
Shane finally turned the truck toward the backup meeting spot, eyeing the dark clouds over heads. Their window for getting off the island was gone, and they were on to plan B.
He didn’t like plan B.
“The tropical storm must have picked up speed.” Lacey tipped her head sideways staring out the passenger window.
“You sure this isn’t a normal afternoon storm?” He could hope, couldn’t he?
“If this was the typical afternoon rain, it’d be over by now. And there wouldn’t be any lightning. Lighting storms are pretty uncommon here.”
Damn.
They continued on for a few minutes in silence.
There were fewer cars on the road. No one had appeared to follow them at any point during their escape. They’d been lucky. Real lucky. When plans changed to such a drastic degree, things rarely went so well. This time though, they’d pulled a rabbit out of the hat.
Shane knew they’d done the right thing. The minute he’d glanced up and seen Lacey’s wide eyes and worried face, he’d known she was another victim.
But the last time they’d strayed from orders, Cisco had almost gotten killed.
He blew out a breath and glanced across at his passenger.
Tendrils of hair had come loose from her ponytail and curled as they dried into tight corkscrews around her face. Freckles dotted her cheeks and nose.
It was hard to merge the image of the terrified woman he’d come face to face with on the second floor with the calm person riding with him. Even a normal civilian would be frazzled and frantic, but not her.
“How’d you get into...travel blogging?” He glanced at her. Those deep, green eyes of hers pulled him in, making parts of him stir that shouldn’t.
“That’s a long story.” She chuckled.
“How about the cliff notes?”
“Uh, well, I started college with a veterinary medicine plan in mind, but that’s expensive. I switched to focusing on reptiles, because a friend of a friend knew of some opportunities I thought sounded interesting. I got on a research team that went to Australia. Blogged the whole thing, and that kind of took off. After that, I got sponsors and started traveling on shoestring budgets.”
“And that pays well?”
“Well enough. I mean, as long as I can cover production costs and hosting for my website, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of working-my-way across a country, bussing tables, tending bars. Whatever needs to be done to get me from Point A to Point B.”
Shane glanced at her, that way of life so foreign to him he didn’t know how it was even possible.
“My sister looks at me like that.” Lacey laughed, an enchanting sound that grated on his nerves.
The sooner he was away from this woman the better. He didn’t know what to make of her. They’d saved her, but she seemed like the type who’d have figured out a way out sooner or later.
Shane turned the wheel and they proceeded off the main road, through the trees. After a little distance, they turned onto a smaller road. Set onto the hill was a peach-colored, three-story house, surrounded by a nearly fifteen foot wall.
He honked at the gate and waited for Isaac to jog out and let them in.
They parked the truck behind the house, under a thatched awning. Rain dripped down and a little river of water snaked between them and the house.
“I’ll come around and get you.” Shane stepped out and by the time he circled the front of the truck, Lacey was standing on the rough gravel. “We’ll have to get you some shoes.”
“That would be nice.”
“Welcome back,” Isaac called out. He jogged up behind them, rain slicking his hair to his skull. “Took you guys long enough.”
Isaac’s gaze stuck to Lacey.
Shane wanted to punch the guy.
“Hope you enjoyed the scenic tour, ma’am. Lacey, right?” Isaac held out his hand.
“Uh, yeah.” Lacey glanced at Shane then shook Isaac’s hand.
“Aanya and Dev have had nothing but great things to say about you. I’m Isaac.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Shane frowned. The change in Lacey’s body language was minute. Tiny. And if he hadn’t spent the better part three hours driving around the countryside with her, he might not have noticed it. But he did. And he didn’t like it.
“Kyle’s waiting for us inside. We’re trying to figure out what’s next.” Isaac glanced at Lacey. “Want a hand inside?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I’m good.” Her smile was a touch too bright, a fake.
“Come on, then.”
Isaac headed toward the rear of the house.
Lacey remained rooted to the spot, her cheeks pale.
“Something wrong?” Shane pitched his voice low.
“No. Nothing.”
Then why was her voice so tense and tight?
“All right. Let’s get you inside, then.” He nodded toward the door, ambling along next to her. Just because she wanted to make the walk across the gravel on her own didn’t mean he was going to leave an unarmed civilian alone.
“Go on without me.”
“That’s not how we do things, ma’am.”
Lacey must have stepped on a particularly cruel piece of rock. She winced and bobbled, nearly going to her knees.
Screw this. He wanted to get them all inside and under cover, out of the rain.
Shane scooped her up in his arms, her slight weight hardly worth noting.
“Put me down,” Lacey said, but there wasn’t the same amount of fight to her voice.
“I will, once we’re inside.”
She huffed and stared straight ahead.
What was it about their clients that had her reacting that way? What didn’t they know? There was more to Lacey’s situation than they knew about, and Shane didn’t like it. His first priority was his team, and then their clients. If she were a danger to either, well...he found that hard to believe, but then what?
He shouldered through the door into a screened-in patio. Out of the elements, he eased Lacey to her feet.
“Thank you.” There was no warmth or smile in her voice, but that was okay. She didn’t have to like him for him
to watch out for her.
“This way.” He gestured through the door. Until he knew more about her, they needed to keep her in sight at all times.
Lacey walked ahead of him, spine ramrod straight.
He guided her to the dining room of their host house, where the rest of the team had set up a command center last night.
Kyle stood at one side of the room, the other guys were seated. Every face was grim.
The clients were noticeably absent, but then again, they weren’t made from the same stuff that Lacey was.
“Everything go okay?” Kyle asked.
“Yes, sir.” Shane nodded and sat with his back to the wall, Lacey in his field of vision.
“Good.”
Lacey wandered to the window, gazing out at the jungle.
“We just got word from our boat. The water is too choppy to make it to the dock for us to load, and flights out of Montego Bay are being canceled left and right. The storm’s picked up speed and is bearing down on us.” Kyle grimaced.
There would be no driving—or boating—to the airport and leaving as planned.
“What’s more, we just got word that Ochi Rios police are on the lookout for us.” Kyle’s frown deepened.
“They must have an inside source on the police force.” Shane leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “That’s what I’d do, if the roles were reversed.”
“That’s not comforting.” Isaac cast a glare his way.
“Last contact with the home office was to dig in and wait out the storm.” Kyle glanced around the room. “As soon as it’s cleared, we make like hell for Montego Bay and catch the first transport off the island. Zain was able to give us a few names based on what I told him, but we still don’t know who we’re dealing with.”
“Lacey has video of them,” Shane said.
“Do you?” Kyle glanced from Shane to Lacey.
She turned from the window, eyes wide.
“Video? Yes, I do,” she said.
“Can we upload it? It’d help us identify who we’re dealing with.”
“On two conditions.” Lacey pushed her shoulders back.
There she was, the ballsy little fighter. He couldn’t decide if he admired that spunk or if he wanted to lock her in a closet for her own good.
“What’s that?” Kyle asked slowly. Men like them weren’t used to negotiating.
Dangerous in Love (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #1) Page 3
