Regardless of what has happened... I love her…
Sherlyn
This place is horrid! Thank god, we are only here overnight. I have always pictured government safe houses to be a lot nicer, maybe I watch too much television. I suppose, I never actually envisioned myself ever needing one. Come tomorrow, all of us are flying to some hidden island home of Hawke’s in the middle of nowhere. Talk about being mysterious, that man is full of surprises. I find him intriguing, and am curious to learn more, although Sophie once told me that most of her friends back home just found him creepy. Yeah, I suppose I can see how you would, but after everything he has done to help me since my attack, I see him differently.
After some investigating, Stephen and I managed to find a quiet room on the second floor toward the back. There is nothing special about it, just a tiny room, where the wallpaper is peeling off the walls, but at least it’s clean. Located in the corner, is an old, rusted wrought iron single bed, which we both found challenging. If the mattress wasn’t covered with some sort of bedding, I wouldn’t have considered it at all. The funniest moment came when Stephen, who isn’t exactly a small person, and myself tried fitting onto it. We eventually made it work and I finally got what I wanted, which was for someone to hold onto me tightly. That need only escalated after we spoke with Anthony earlier.
He stopped past after we all ate to share what he, Hawke, and Sean had discovered about my psycho stalker. It would seem that Vincent was not who he portrayed himself to be. Everything with my mother was nothing more than an act, but then, I never understood their attraction at the time anyway. Realistically I shouldn’t have been surprised when Anthony mentioned the murders, because in the whole time he was with my mother I felt like there was something off about him. He gave me the creeps and made me feel uncomfortable every time I walked into the room. He was one of the reasons that I chose to spend a lot of my time at Sumner’s and Tatum’s and then Sophie’s.
It was the pictures of Vincent’s victims, which had the biggest impact on me. Every one of those girls had similar features to myself. Strangely enough, some of them could have passed as members of my own family. What I struggled to stomach though was what he did to those poor girls and how much they would have suffered. Death would have been a welcomed relief for some of them, especially the last few. He seemed to get more sadistic with each body he tortured and to think, this was just him practicing. That particular thought made me physically ill, knowing that what he was doing to these girls is what he plans to do to me. I may have been anxious before, but now I’m scared and with good reason, because if he gets his hands on me I know I won’t be so lucky. There is not going to be anything quick or painless about my death.
During that whole conversation with Anthony, I tried to take everything in. There was so much to absorb that I often zoned out. My body slumped beside Stephen, who thankfully, never left my side and my mind wandered. It was a bit like my brain was censoring the content of information being relayed to me, putting me in a state of shock to shelter me. If Stephen’s body language was anything to go by, I would have to say that he took in everything, I doubt he missed a thing. I don’t think I have ever seen him this tense, not even when he found out about my virginity. What I am most grateful for, is the fact that he has not left my side since.
“Hey, dream girl, you need to wake up. We are leaving soon,” a soothing voice caresses.
Grumbling I attempt to turn over, but realize there is nowhere to go. Warm, large hands gently wrap around me, pulling me into a warm chest, which I happily submit to.
“I’d be happy to stay here with you all day babe, but they are waiting downstairs for us.”
Pulling away, he tries to be gentle as he attempts to break away from me and get off this bed, but he fails miserably. I’m assuming that we fell asleep in the same positions we were laying, because my neck and back have seized on me, making it difficult to do anything.
“Give me a minute and I will move for you,” I tell him, while I too attempt to sit up.
“Fuck me I’m hurting this morning. I love you girl, but fuck that, next time I will sleep on the floor and you can have the bed.”
That makes me laugh, his whole comment has me in hysterics, and I’m laughing so hard, my tears are running down my cheeks. Catching my breath, I watch as he finally gets up and stands so that he can stretch to regain movement in his arms, legs, and back. He is breathtaking. I know descriptive words like that are normally reserved for us girls, but he really is delicious to look at and I could stare at that boy’s body all day.
“Stop staring babe, we don’t have time for me to ravage you right now. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to need to be buried deep inside of you.”
Damn…. Shifting my attention, I look away to avoid his smirk. He is such an ass. He knew that my face would light up like a firecracker. Following him off the bed, I try to stretch my tired limbs as well before following him out to where we are meeting the others. Once again, I would like to reiterate that he really is an ass. His chuckling down the hallway only makes me scowl at him more.
“Good, good. We are all here. Hawke is waiting for us at the airfield.” I hear Anthony call out when Stephen and I reach the bottom of the stairwell.
As quickly as we were rushed into the building, we are now being rushed out of it. Getting into, once again that big black SUV, I quietly sit and stare out of my window. It’s hard to admit that just a few, short months ago, I would have never guessed that my life would take such a turn. What have I ever done to anyone to deserve the turn of events that are now plaguing me?
Please God, let them hurry up and find Vincent so that I can finally move on.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sean
I don’t know why we didn’t think of it earlier. I’m referring to my father’s relocation of everyone to Hawke’s place near Costa Rica. Honestly, it’s the perfect location and a place where we will have all the advantages. No one can get even remotely close to that island without us seeing them. The surveillance that Hawke has in, and around his home is highly sophisticated. Even I struggle to understand how it works. Considering I’m smarter than both him, and my father put together, that’s certainly saying something.
He told me when I first relocated there with my parents, that he learned tricks during his time in the corp. It doesn’t matter how they try to gain access, he has triggers integrated into the program in his control room that warns him when anyone gets too close. You can’t even fly over it without him noticing. Having commercial airplanes fly over daily was becoming an inconvenience, as it was setting off the goddamned alarms all the time. We adjusted the height to eliminate any unnecessary interruptions. He has all of the data sent through to his smartphone, on an app created for him by our intelligence department back at our headquarters in New York.
After we all ate last night, I excused myself to get lost in my work. I spent the rest of the night continuing to track our target. Being around Sherlyn has been difficult; her presence still affects me more than I want to admit. My traitorous body loves how she smells, and how her clothing highlights the curves of her body. Fuck, it makes me sound like a stalker when I talk about her like that. I can’t help it, unfortunately, I still fucking love her. It hasn’t been easy to turn off, if that is even possible. The sooner we find her attacker, the better.
I pretty much stayed up most of the night, and in the end didn’t really get much sleep at all. Sometime just after midnight I resorted to crashing on the sofa in the communications room, because I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Although I had no trouble digging up dirt on him, it hasn’t been as easy tracking his movements. Vincent is smart, I will give him that much, and it looks like he pays for everything in cash to avoid any kind of paper trail. I had been hoping that this would be how he becomes unstuck, but luck has not been on my side. I have found nothing. For all I know, he could be sitting in a vehicle down the block waiting for us to leave today.
“Are we ready son?” my father asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
It’s going to be a long fucking day, especially with the intricate plans he and Hawke laid out for us all to follow not long ago. The plan is, to travel in separate vehicles once again, with each taking an alternate route to the airport. It is a distraction method they practice just in case someone is watching. Although this is the plan, the hope is for him to follow us so that we can apprehend him. This is all based on the theory that he is watching. We have had agents watching and no one has reported any suspicious activity. I believe he is out there; I just don’t know where.
“The coast is clear,” one of the other agents tells Hawke through the two-way radio he has been carrying around.
“Keep watch, he will be around somewhere,” Hawke replies before ushering us all into the awaiting SUVs, down alongside the building.
He believes that enough caution has been taken to ensure that if he is watching, he won’t be able to confirm which SUV Sherlyn is in. We will all leave at the same time but in different directions. I don’t think that will work, because regardless of which one he follows, we are all going to the same place – the airport. He will find us soon enough, but like I said, that is the plan.
The airport is deadly quiet when we arrive, and that frightens me. There isn’t much that scares me anymore, but there is an eerie silence to the place at this hour of the morning, which is unnerving.
“So far so good,” my father grunts in a low, barely audible voice as he exits the SUV.
The tone of his voice alludes to the fact that he is expecting trouble as well. It’s way too quiet for my liking, which for me, should be an indication that something is very wrong. Walking through the terminal, the sun is finally starting to advance, showering us in light. The security guards lead us through a side door that leads down a corridor out onto the tarmac. From the corner of my eye, something shiny catches my attention.
Turning my head to the side, I’m confronted with the image of Vincent Salvatore standing not too far away from us, with Sherlyn’s friend Sumner in his grasp. Halting in my tracks, I grab hold of my father’s arm as he walks by and directs his attention to our target and his newest victim. It doesn’t take long for the rest of the group to catch onto what is going on and I can hear the loud gasp that escapes my sister’s mouth. Commotion nearby catches my attention and I turn as Sherlyn breaks free of Stephen’s grasp to move toward the front.
“Hold up baby girl, let Anthony handle this,” he calls out after her, as she shoves her way past the agents who are attempting to subdue her.
There are tears streaming down her face as she takes in the sight of her friend being held against her will, against the body of the butcher using her as bait. He has her hands tied with cable ties in front of her, and masking tape covering her mouth. The confronting part of the image before us is the knife against her throat. From the looks of her streaked makeup, he has been holding her captive for a while.
What I don’t understand is why Sumner? It doesn’t make sense… unless he is planning to use her as a bargaining tool. Now that wouldn’t surprise me at all, it was probably the sick fucks plan all along. The problem is, if what we have discovered is true, he will have no plans on releasing her alive. As Sherlyn crumbles to her knees, I squat beside her in comfort. With her head in her hands, she just continues to cry. Although Stephen has dropped beside her, covering her with his body, I too kneel, but on the other side. I want nothing more than to make sure she is okay.
Keeping my eyes on the target, I attempt to focus on the little things, like the sadistic grin splayed across his face. His grip on Sumner tightens, and she visibly winces. Her eyes widen and the tears stream down her pretty face like a waterfall. She is more than frightened, which is understandable because Vincent has probably told her of his intentions. The touch of Sherlyn’s soft hand on mine shatters my concentration, snapping my focus back on her. She is looking at me with sad eyes, her shoulders slumping, her demeanor solemn.
“Please Sean, you need to save her,” she pleads.
I’m stuck; in that exact moment, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Nodding, I gently remove her hand from mine as I lift it off her shoulder.
Rising, I watch as she turns into Stephen’s embrace. It guts me that it’s him she seeks comfort from, but I can’t worry about that right now. I have to help my father find a way to end this standoff so we can eliminate Vincent’s threat for good and save Sumner.
“Sean,” I hear my father call out as I approach.
“He isn’t walking away from this alive, are you good with that?” he questions me.
Once I am standing beside him, he turns looking for some kind of confirmation. Keeping my gaze on our target, I nod my agreeance. I usually stay separated from that side of the agency, but this has become personal, and I can’t let him walk away unscathed.
“Good, have one of the other agents escort your mother, sister, Sherlyn and the boys to the plane. Do it quickly, because I need you with me on this,” he dictates, before turning to speak to Hawke.
Surely, he could get one of the others to do that. Feeling frustrated, I head over to my mother.
As I gathered they would, my mother and Sophie protested. You would think that for two women who came close to dying only months prior, they would be happy to go. But no, not these two. I don’t think I have ever met two more frustrating women in my life. Actually, I will rephrase that; the one being lifted off the ground could be classified in that category herself, under different circumstances. Out of the three of them, Sherlyn is the only one to not put up a fight, she has been very subdued since Stephen picked her up off the tarmac. She is currently clinging to him near one of the other agents.
Luke and Ben promised to keep everyone together, choosing to take their stand with the girls instead to keep them safe. You could see the longing in their eyes, the itching to join in the fight. All four of them would prefer to be standing beside my father right now, but we need to keep the girls safe, and they understand that. When I took my place next to my father, I found he had already engaged in a war of words with Vincent. That sadistic look on his face turned vile when my father told him that we wouldn’t be letting him hurt the girl. He just laughed and pulled the knife tighter into Sumner’s neck. All I could do was watch as she sucked in her breath, and closed her eyes tightly.
“You know what I want Mr. Agent man, so bring me my prize and I will hand over this pretty little thing.” Vincent spits at my father.
“Sherlyn isn’t going anywhere, but I will be taking Sumner from you alive regardless.” My father calmly replies.
It has always surprised me how cool he becomes when under the pressure of these kinds of situations. He never falters, yet I’m a nervous fucking wreck inside.
“We both know that won’t happen. You will give me what I want or the girl dies. It’s simple really.”
Looking sideways at Hawke, I see nothing but blankness. He shows no emotion, I bet he has a great poker face. My father is stewing on Vincent’s latest comment, no doubt because it reminds him of what happened with Sophie.
Just when I think he is finally going to reply, I hear Hawke’s voice from beside me.
“You know we aren’t going to let that happen. It’s time for this standoff to come to an end, lower your knife and let the girl go. If you choose the alternative, I will signal for one of the agents that have gathered around to take you out.”
That’s the Hawke I have come to know, the one with no patience for games and no tolerance for the people who play them. He has me wondering, though, how they plan to take him out, as Hawke put it, when he is using Sumner as a shield.
Like I said, this one is not a stupid man; he will already have his escape route mapped out. Everything up until this point has been strategically planned, and I can only imagine this will be as well. There are multiple doors surrounding him that he could utilize. I’m left wondering, just how many of those do
ors will have our men waiting behind them. I can only assume that my father has thought of that. Looking at my watch, it feels a hell of a lot longer than the twenty minutes it actually is, since we arrived. Why does it always feel like every passing second feel like an eternity? The longer we stand here staring at each other, the more frightened Sumner becomes. Unlike the last time, our enemy before us will follow through on his threats. If we are not careful, she will end up dead.
“I don’t have time for this,” Our assailant tells Hawke, his face brimming with frustration.
“Give me what I want or this one dies. I don’t care about her at all.”
As the words spew out of his mouth I watch the poor girls face turn white. I really do feel sorry for her, she never signed up for this. Hell none of them signed up for this shit. How are we supposed to get her out of here with her life intact?
“Sherlyn wait!” I hear from behind me, but before I can turn around, she pushes past Hawke and me.
What the fuck is she doing?
“Don’t” was all we heard as she determinedly made her way across the airport tarmac toward her attacker.
There was nothing we could say but like hell were we going to let her walk over there alone, so we followed closely behind.
“Let her go,” my father advised as she came to a stop.
Why would I do that, she is no match for this man. We never showed her half the shit he did to those girls she has no idea what she is up against.
“Watch and wait, let’s see where she goes with this. We have men waiting to attack. No harm will come to her.” He tries to reassure me.
The only problem being, that he has no plans to hurt her here, but what about Sumner?
“Ah sweetness, there you are. I have missed you,” he greets.
Sins of the Father (California Dreaming Book 2) Page 22
