This Year's Black (Killer Style 2) - Page 47

“I’m sorry.”

“I was twelve. They kept Mama for three weeks before we could scrape together enough money to pay the ransom.”

Ryder couldn’t miss the raw pain that deepened each one of the lines dividing his forehead before he looked to his feet, blinking rapidly. Better not to go there. But that look did not bode well for anyone they’d kidnapped.

She popped the aspirin in her mouth and swallowed a mouthful of water. “Do you know where they’re holding Devin?”

“I imagine he’s at their farm.”

Picturing the small, single-story house with its weathered appearance and lack of guards, she couldn’t get it to jibe with a secure location. “The house with the pineapples out front? It didn’t seem like a good spot for that.”

“Oh, not there. They have a much bigger place a few miles further inland.” A knock sounded at the door. “That must be your friends.”

> She tossed the pills in her mouth and washed them down with the water. Everything ached, but nothing hurt more than the knowledge that all of this was her fault for rushing in when she should have called for backup. She just prayed it wasn’t too late for Devin. She grabbed the bedside telephone and dialed.

Her brother picked up on the second ring.

“Tony, I need you. How soon can you be here?”

Silence loud enough to break her eardrum thrummed through the line before he answered. “How soon do you need me?”


The sun had almost disappeared below the western horizon when Maltese Security’s three musketeers filed into Ryder’s hotel room. Carlos shuffled in first wearing a Dr. Who T-shirt, jeans cuffed at the ankles, and a commiserating grimace. Cam strutted in next. They had to have been airborne for nearly ten hours, yet he looked like he’d just walked off a magazine cover with his glossy hair and almost too pretty face. He gave Ryder a quick wink and a thumbs up.

Her big brother marched in last, looking about as happy as a vegetarian at a North Carolina barbecue where greens fried in bacon fat was the only non-meat option.

Ryder held up her hand before Tony could open his mouth. “You’re right and, yes, I need your help.”

All three men stopped in their tracks.

Cam was the first to recover. “Who are you, and what’ve you done with Ryder?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stuff it, Cam.”

“That’s more like the Ryder I know and love.” He flashed his signature wicked grin.

“The Molinas have taken Devin captive.” Just saying the words made her stomach cramp, the perfect accompaniment to the dull pounding of her head and the ache in her chest no amount of medicine could dull. “I can’t get him back without your help.”

She gulped around the rock lodged deep in her throat and glanced down at her matching bracelet of interwoven gold threads and recalled the feel of his strong hands on her foot during their plane ride to The Andol Republic. His touch had been the only thing keeping her sane when her fear of flying had gone into the danger zone. And at their blessing ceremony, his nearness had kept her from running away in a panic. Even this morning, when he’d been annoyed as all hell and thinking her plan was nuts, he’d trusted her.

The realization landed like an elephant on her chest. She couldn’t lose him now. He meant too much to her.

Carlos sat down at the small hotel room desk and took out his laptop. Used to his quirks, Ryder didn’t think twice when he kept his gaze glued to his screen and his fingers busy on the keyboard while she quickly went through everything that had happened since she and Devin arrived two days ago. Well, almost everything. She never mentioned the blessing ceremony and Borja didn’t speak up, thank God, but she couldn’t stop touching the golden bracelet as if it really tied her to Devin.

“Any proof that he’s still on the island…or alive?” The blunt question marked the first time Tony had spoken since entering.

She shook her head, not even wanting to think about the second possibility. “Only my gut.”

“No offense, girlie”—Cam sat down on the bed next to her—“but that’s not much to go on.”

“If I may.” Borja stepped forward. “I was just telling Ms. Falcon earlier that the family has a large warehouse on their farm.”

Cam quirked an eyebrow at the manager’s formal use of her name, but kept his smart mouth shut for once.

Carlos didn’t bother to look up from his laptop. “I brought up the farm on satellite the other day. There is a large building about three miles from the house.”

“I never saw that image,” Ryder said, annoyed.

Tags: Avery Flynn Killer Style Romance
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