Mine to Save

by Diana Gardin

  23

  Sayward

  When I’d joined Marcos at the bar, he’d taken one look at my face and asked the bartender to make me something strong. Sipping my double Jack and Coke, the story spilled out. How I feel about Bennett, how scared I’ve been. How good he’s been at protecting me, but how wrong I was about how he felt.

  “The second she stepped back into his life, he forgot all about me.” I’d hated the way my voice sounded. Weak. Sad.

  Broken, broken, broken.

  Marcos had listened without interrupting. “Where is he now?”

  I’d shrugged and told him I assumed he was having a heart-to-heart with Valarie. “But the NES team should be on their way to take out Suarez.”

  Marcos’s brow had furrowed. “They know where he is?”

  I’d nodded.

  Then I’d swallowed down the rest of my drink and excused myself to go to the restroom. When I’d returned, Marcos leaned toward me, his expression earnest and pleading.

  “Chica, I’m planning on leaving for Colombia tonight. After everything that has happened here, I don’t want to stay. I was going to call you to say good-bye but you beat me to it.” He sends me an apologetic smile. “Please…come with me. Now that your friends are apprehending Pablo Suarez, you have nothing to fear in Colombia. Come meet your nephew. Help me remember our father. Come home.”

  Marcos’s words flipped over and over in my mind, a tumult of thoughts whirling into a tornado of emotion inside me. As shocked as I was, it made total sense that Marcos would want to leave. Nothing good had come from his visit here. But was he right? Could I go home? I did need to clear my mind, rebuild the walls around my heart. And I wanted so badly to say good-bye to my papi.

  There was a tugging in my chest, a tight pull that let me know I’m anchored here now, whether I like it or not. But a surge of determination rises within me, because I know that anchor is attached firmly to Bennett. But I can’t be tethered to him, not when he can’t give himself to me completely. The memory of the way he tensed up and dropped my hand at the sight of Valarie sliced through me, causing real, physical pain. I winced against it, hugging myself tight.

  My answer had flown from my lips before I could stop it, and then only part of me wanted to. “Yes. I’ll come with you.”

  Marcos had nodded in encouragement. “We leave tonight.”

  And that’s how I ended up getting out of a car at a private airfield. The deep darkness is pierced by bright white overhead lamps where the car drops us off, and I can see the blinking red lights of the runway beyond the tall, chain-link fence. There’s a man waiting for us at the gate, dressed in a pilot’s uniform.

  “Mr. Diaz.” He nods, tipping his hat. “We’re ready for takeoff, sir.”

  Marcos leans toward me as I stare at the pilot. “My friend back in Colombia…a businessman I built a complex for, has offered me the use of his plane to return home.”

  Unease spikes, lancing through me as I stare through the fence at the waiting jet. It’s glossy, black engines whirring as it waits to take me home.

  Home.

  It’s the second time tonight I’ve thought of that word, and it felt more real when I thought it earlier than it does now. Confusion simmers, making me blink several times as the plane blurs out of focus. I sigh, shifting my feet.

  Marcos places a hand on my back. “Let’s go, Sayward.”

  I let him lead me toward the plane. I can’t figure out what’s making me feel so tense. Nervous. Is it the fact that I’m returning to Colombia for the first time since I fled for my life? Is it because I’m putting my faith in a brother I barely know?

  No. Marcos is my blood. If there’s anyone I can put my trust in, it’s him.

  My feet take me up the plane’s flight of steps and into the cabin.

  Where the smiling, triumphant face of Pablo Suarez waits for me.

  24

  Bennett

  Why the fuck don’t I drive a goddamn sports car?

  The truck’s big engine rumbles as I hurtle down the streets, headed for the airport on the outskirts of town. I’ve always loved my truck, but damn if tonight I don’t wish I had something with some speed.

  I need to be at that airfield. I need to be there now, because if I don’t get there in time, Sayward and Marcos will be in the air.

  Just the thought of losing her like this sends a shot of heart-shredding pain straight through my chest, and it’s hard to fucking breathe. I’m not gonna lose her.

  I can’t.

  My foot stomps down harder on the gas, adrenaline making me take risks I wouldn’t normally take.

  When I pull up at the airfield, gravel flying around my tires, I slam to a stop and jump down from the cab. Sprinting through the gate in the chain-link fence, I look around frantically. In the distance, the sound of a jet’s engines rise to a roar, and then I spot the small, black plane hurtling down the runway.

  No. Please don’t let her be on that plane.

  I’m fucking helpless as I watch the jet lift off into the air, the wheels lifting up into the belly of the beast, and my hands lift to the back of my head. Tugging on my hair, I don’t even notice that my lips are moving while I beg, silent and desperate.

  “Help you?”

  A man rolls toward me on a cart. He quirks a brow, and I can see the curiosity in his expression under the white circle of light from the security lamps. I can only guess what the hell I must look like, and I’m standing inside the gate of a private airfield after midnight.

  “That plane…was there a woman on it? Long, dark hair?” I want to grab the guy, shake him until he answers, but I fist my hands at my side to keep them in line.

  Now his expression turns suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”

  I take a step toward him and let my voice drop. All the authority I have inside me, some of it learned and some of it instinctual, bleeds through.

  “I want to know, because it’s my job to protect her, and I need to know whether or not she was on that goddamned plane. Her name is Sayward Diaz, and she could have been in the company of someone who wants to hurt her. Do you fucking understand me?” The man’s eyes are wide by this time, suspicion gone and straight-up worry sitting on his face instead. “If you want to keep breathing, tell me whether or not she was on that plane.”

  The man holds his hands out in front of him. “Look, man. She was on the plane, okay? All I did was get them ready for takeoff.”

  I size him up as rage boils in my blood, mixing with cold, black fear. “I need to know who else was on that plane and where it was going.”

  He licks his lips, nerves getting the best of him as he glances from side to side. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go into the office and I’ll pull the manifest.”

  I don’t know why the fuck we’re still standing here. “Do it.”

  When he pulls out the manifest, he checks the names. “What’s her name again?”

  Grabbing it from his hands, I scan the document. Sayward’s name is on it, as well as Marcos’s. My phone begins to ring in my pocket just as I read three names that I don’t know. The fourth name, I know way too well.

  My phone stops ringing, and then starts right the fuck back up again. And I know why.

  I slam the manifest back down on the counter and don’t even remember walking out of the airfield office. I’m running for my truck as I pull my phone out of my pocket. Jacob’s voice shouts from the other end before I can even take a breath.

  “Suarez is ghost. Do you hear me? He’s in the wind, Bennett. We didn’t get him, or any of his guys. I want you to bring Sayward—”

  “I don’t have her.” The words sound like a foreign fucking language to my own ears. I can’t believe I’m saying this to my boss.

  I can’t believe I lost her.

  Climbing into the truck, I switch to hands-free when I start the ignition and slap my palms against the wheel. There’s enough energy racing through my veins that I could run a marathon, box in a full-length match, g
o to fucking war.

  “Jacob…” I swallow hard around the blockage in my throat. “She’s in the air. I’m at Jefferson Airfield. Marcos brought her here…goddammit!” Losing it for just a second, I slam my hands down again, this time making them sting.

  “What do you mean, you fucking lost her? Where is she?”

  I squeeze my eyes closed and press a hand to the side of my head. “She’s on a private jet headed to Bogotá. Marcos is on board…and so is Suarez.”

  Silence stretches across the line as Jacob comprehends what I’ve just told him.

  Finally, he growls out a response. “Stay your ass at the airfield. By the time the rest of the team gets there, a jet will be waiting for us.”

  Hope rises inside me, just a small bud, but it’s definitely there. “We’re going to get her?”

  I was going to get her regardless. It’s my fault she’s gone, I was headed for the airport to book a flight out. I should have known I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

  “You’re damn right. We’re going to Colombia.”

  25

  Sayward

  I sit in a plush leather seat, my gaze aimed just to the left of Marcos’s shoulder where he sits across from me. Suarez sits across the aisle from us, his ankle resting on his opposite knee. There’s been a Cheshire-cat smile on his face for the past thirty minutes.

  Because he’s won.

  Every time I glance at Marcos, there’s real pain in his eyes. He pleads with me silently, asking me to understand this.

  But I’ll never understand.

  “You set me up.” Rising from my seat, I take the half step into Marcos’s space and slap him across the face.

  His head snaps to the left, but he doesn’t make a sound. When he looks at me, I don’t avoid his stare.

  This is not my life. I was safe, hidden behind my computer. And then Bennett came along and stole my heart. And then Marcos came into town and tore me apart. Everything I thought I had feels so far away right now.

  I’m completely and utterly lost.

  Suarez finally lets out a heavy sigh. He flicks an invisible piece of dust from his gray slacks. His outfit confuses me. It makes me think that maybe he doesn’t even know he’s a low-level criminal drug dealer. Yes, he has money. But he carries himself like he’s a legitimate business mogul. When all he is, is a snake.

  As I sit back down my gaze snaps toward him. “Why don’t you just kill me already?”

  I really do want to know. Why am I on a plane to Colombia? Is he really going to string me up in the town square for all to see?

  He ignores my question, focusing on my face. I immediately avert my eyes. “It’s not Marcos’s fault, you know. I kidnapped his family.”

  I suck in a breath, my entire body tensing up like I’m gearing up for battle. “You what?”

  Marcos speaks up then, his tone full of disgust and heartbreaking remorse. It’s too bad I don’t have a heart left to shatter. Mine’s already in smithereens. “He took them, chica. My wife and my son? Stole them right out from under me. He killed our father, and then made me come here to tell you in person.”

  “Why now?” My eyes flicker toward Suarez, and I look him in the eye for the first time. Discomfort crawls through my insides like rats, but I press through it. This I have to know.

  Suarez shrugs. “I looked for a Sayward for years. Your name was the only tie I had to who really killed my father. You did a good job leaving the country, hiding out. I probably wouldn’t have found you if it wasn’t for coincidence. I overheard your father in the village speaking to his grandson—saying he wished the boy could meet his aunt Sayward. I figured it out pretty quickly after that. Killed your father—an eye for an eye. And then had Marcos lead me right to your doorstep.”

  Marcos’s voice rises. “You want to carry on your piece-of-shit padre’s memory like this? You’re nothing but shit under our feet.” He spits the words, the anger running through him so potent he’s trembling.

  Suarez lifts a brow, anger flaring in his dark eyes. “You want your child’s throat cut? Keep insulting my family.” The words are said through a hiss, his teeth pressing hard together as he glares at Marcos.

  Marcos’s throat works as he swallows. Tearing his gaze away from Suarez and focusing on me again, I can almost feel the cabin of the plane squeezing in on me. The air feels cloying, too tight, and all I want to do is jump out of this airplane. Anything to get me away from these two men.

  In the back of my head, a little voice tells me that I never should have walked away from Bennett. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting on this plane right now with a gangster and a traitor. I manage to glare at Marcos without blinking.

  “He’d found out where you were, and he was coming for you, chica. I was just his insurance policy. With me here, he knew I would be able to get you to come back to Colombia with me. And Sayward…he has my family. My whole world! What was I supposed to do?”

  He’s begging, pleading with me now for forgiveness. It’s in the hunched posture, the downtrodden tone in his voice. He’s been truly broken, and maybe I can’t blame him for what he did. He threw me under the bus, but not because he wanted to.

  I turn away from all of them and stare out the window. There’s nothing but blackness beyond, but that’s fine by me. It matches the way I feel on the inside.

  Black and empty.

  When the plane lands, I’m not sure how long we’ve been flying. Somewhere over the Atlantic, I zoned out and tried really hard to forget who I am and what I’m doing. But now, the jet’s wheels touching down on a foreign runway jar me back to myself, and I realize that I can’t hide from this. I can’t turn away and pretend it’s not happening. There’s no laptop for me to use as an excuse.

  I have to face this, and I’m alone.

  But then, a flicker of hope flares inside me. I’ve worked with the Rescue Ops team, and I know how good they are at their jobs. There’s a good chance that by now, they know where I am and who I’m with. The only question?

  Whether or not they’ll get to me in time.

  “I hear you’re highly intelligent, Ms. Diaz. I hope that means you’re wise enough not to try to run when we step off this plane. My security team will meet us outside.”

  I aim my gaze a little to the left of his nose. “And what do you plan to do with me once we leave this plane?”

  His mouth curls into a smug smile. “I intend to let everyone know what happens when you fuck with a Suarez.”

  26

  Bennett

  I stretch my legs out in front of me and lift my arms in the air, grateful that Jacob was able to charter a jet for the five-hour flight to Bogotá, Colombia. My muscles are coiled, tight. I’m ready to fucking spring, and all that nervous energy is eating me up inside.

  Ronin, Conners, Teague, Jacob, and Abbott all hold similar positions in the bucket leather seats around me. A couple of the guys stare out the window, seeing nothing, while the others sit with their elbows resting on their knees.

  All I can think about, over and over again in my fucked-up head, is that I disappointed her, she left me, and then I lost her.

  Fucking Valarie.

  But it’s not Valarie’s fault. I led Sayward to believe that I was ready for everything when it came to her. I know she didn’t go to bed with me lightly, and in my heart I was making a promise when I slipped inside her for the first time. Maybe I didn’t say it out loud, but at some point during the time that I’d started guarding her and the first time we fucked, I’d fallen for this woman. I should have told her. I should have showed her by pulling her closer when Valarie showed up on my doorstep. Instead, I let her walk away.

  And now I’m suffering for it, because shit got real the second she was out of my sight. I roll my eyes toward the ceiling, wanting to laugh at the irony. But laughing is the last thing I want to do right now. The fact that I have to sit still on this plane when I really want to jump out of my skin makes my soul riot. It feels so wrong.

  I expla
ined what happened to the guys and the boss the second the plane had taken off, having to go into detail about Valarie’s reappearance and the status of my relationship with Sayward. Not that I’d been going out of my way to hide it.

  Jacob’s mouth had drawn into a thin line, but he hadn’t snapped or lost his shit. He’d just listened, and the rest of the guys? Whatever this was between Sayward and me, they got it. Because they’d all been through it themselves. Not even Conners gave me shit. Protecting a woman they’d fallen for…It’s like a twisted Rescue Ops tradition, one I had no idea I was gonna follow when I agreed to take this job.

  But here I am. Sitting in their shoes, going after the woman I fell for, and losing isn’t an option.

  We’ve spent the last two hours strategizing. Teague had pulled up maps of the area, and each member of the team had taken turns studying them. He’d pointed out some of the physical and city data features of Bogotá, and we’d all committed them to memory. Then Abbott, Jacob, and Conners had begun kicking around ideas about how we’d mount a rescue mission.

  First, we needed to know where Suarez would be holding Sayward. And just the thought of him touching her, keeping her against her will, maybe even hurting her for the fucking fun of it, sends me into a silent rage. My blood bubbles as I contemplate it, and my fists automatically clench.

  She’d better be okay when I find her. It was going to be hard enough keeping myself from killing Suarez. The son of a bitch deserved nothing less than a slow, painful death. If it came to it, I’d be the one to give it to him.

  “I’ve been connected, through a CIA acquaintance, to a contact in Bogotá. He’ll meet us when we land, and he’ll have information on where Suarez went when he arrived in the city overnight. The guy is too high profile in his city to be able to move without eyes on him. We’ll have a location on him ASAP, and then we’ll know that Sayward isn’t far.” Jacob’s remained calm throughout this flight, even though a vein pulses in his jaw, flexing and tensing more often than I’ve ever seen.