Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
It was draining on every level.
I linked my arm with Lee and kissed his shoulder. “You’re kind of similar, Sir.”
He nodded slowly. “I suppose. The way I rationalize it—is it gonna help Shay if I take time off work and lose my mind? No. Will our bills stop showing up? Not that either, sadly.” He paused. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t called some old Navy buddies on the West Coast, just to see if I could get some insight. They know California, they have a better sense of the problems the Coast Guard face with drug interdiction, and they’ve heard cartel names and terms that don’t make it over here.”
I nodded, remembering how he’d paced the living room. Phone in one hand, lukewarm coffee in the other, and Kaley clinging to his leg.
Mr. West perked up. “Did you learn anything?”
Lee shook his head. “Nothing that isn’t already being discussed on the damn morning shows. Shit about the Blanco Cartel—or Blanco Family, what the fuck ever. Who controls the coke routes in California, alleged leaders, and so on.”
I swallowed hard. I hated hearing stuff like that, because it blew things out of the water. To bring in a cartel, of all things… It wasn’t just any kidnapping. No ransoms had been sent, as far as we knew. The police had no leads. People were turning up murdered in the streets. Drug money was involved, and possibly an in-house war in a Colombian cartel.
It was terrifying. And Shay—and two other innocent people—were trapped in the middle.
As if on cue, another wave of helplessness crashed down on me.
Lucas Carter
It was another solemn dinner, but it was nice to be among friends. More than that, it was nice to get away from takeout and Macklin’s complicated creations.
We’d learned this week that Macklin went to extremes when he wasn’t feeling well. Things had started out okay enough with interesting fusions and twists of classic dishes. But shit had escalated quickly. Too quickly for my stomach—and I was a self-proclaimed foodie. I also loved appetizers, and Macklin was usually so incredibly good at creating them. But when I’d come face-to-face with what he’d said was “Octopus with ginger and fig jelly,” I’d almost reeled back.
That wasn’t the chef we knew and adored.
“This is amazing, love.” I leaned over and kissed Colt’s cheek.
Good meat with plenty of fat and flavor. Perfect.
He leaned in, wanting a proper kiss. “Call me the grill master.”
I chuckled quietly. “The best grill master, for sure.”
“Damn right.” He gave me a firm kiss. “You hear that, jarhead?”
Greer looked at him, chewing. “Shut the fuck up, airman.”
Colt smacked a kiss at him.
“Oh,” Archie exhaled and sat up straighter. He was looking at something behind me. “Lane—you’re here.”
I quickly glanced over my shoulder, and I let out a breath at the sight of Lane and Ty. It was the first time they’d ventured out here since the news had broken. From Macklin and Walker, we’d heard Lane couldn’t handle additional impressions when he was already overwhelmed.
Poor Lane. He was visibly exhausted and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Judging by the size of the hoodie he was wearing, it belonged to Ty.
This had to be extra rough on them. They’d grown so close to the Tenleys. Hell, Shay and Lane were practically brothers.
“It’s so good to see you, Lane,” Tate expressed. “You too, Ty. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“We’re good, thanks.” Ty came off as fairly casual, but I could tell he had Lane on a short leash. He pressed a kiss to Lane’s temple before guiding him over here. “We’re not stayin’ long.” He stopped at another table and grabbed two lawn chairs to move them closer.
I noticed Ty had a takeout bag.
They sat down at the head of the table, and Kingsley placed a hand on top of Tate’s. Maybe a silent reminder to tread carefully.
Nobody said anything at first.
Lane didn’t appear to be present, and it was possible he was on anxiety medication.
Ty pulled out two takeout containers and two bottles of water.
“Remember what we agreed, darlin’?” he asked quietly, opening the lid. It appeared to be the steak salad they often bought on their way out here. “You’re gonna try’n eat while I talk to Colt.”
Lane nodded slightly and unwrapped the utensils. “Yessir. I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m askin’.” Ty uncapped the water too, before clearing his throat and facing Colt. “Fischer heard back from Lindsey. He’s gonna reach out to you tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m gonna pore over satellite images.”
Colt nodded with a dip of his chin. “I’ll help you. We can set up shop at work first thing in the mornin’.”
My stomach twisted with unease, and I despised that the possibility of Shay being forced out of the country even existed.
“Is it really a big risk that they’ll smuggle Shay out?” I asked.