stop in me tracks and narrow eyes at Hayden. “Me?”
His silence is answer enough.
With a shrug of me shoulders, I climb into the flatbed. Hayden has valid reasons for me being tucked away and out of sight.
It’s when he climbs in beside me that I get the sense I’m in trouble.
He signals the other drivers and the lorries pull out.
Our vehicle . . . idles.
I lean back, stretch out me legs, fold me arms across my chest, and wait the Bastard out.
Until it becomes unbearable.
I arch an eyebrow. “You wanted a private word with me?”
He watches me like he knows I was the lad who stole the last cookie from the jar. Jaysus. Might as well toss him a bone in good faith. “Found out where the mine is.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere north of Malawi.”
“You certain?”
I study him. Not a hair out of place, not a single hint about what he’s truly thinking. Yet we both know this particular location is important, as is the lucky colleen living there.
Women flock to Hayden like bees to a honeypot. But there’s never been mention of his taking an interest in anyone special. One more reason everyone calls him the Bastard behind his back. A hardened, ruthless man, if I ever met one.
“Jaxson. Kylie. Declan. Even Diego. So many secrets being kept.”
Aw, feck. He knows about Diego and Aubrey.
“Didn’t expect him to cuddle up in bed with a few tons of TNT, did you?”
Hayden doesn’t respond, not even a snort.
“Even you have secrets,” I press on.
“I’ve sacrificed everything for the job. And now, so must you.” He places his fingers to his lips and whistles.
It happens in slow motion. My curiosity changes to alarm. Alarm to panic. Then, when a large burlap is rolled into the flatbed by two men, panic to blind disbelief.
Hayden taps the hood and the lorry pulls away from the warehouse.
But my single-minded focus is on that bag . . . as it, too, begins to move.
43
Clarissa
I break free from the coarse material and come up gasping for air. The truck bed is cast in shadows but not enough to hide the two men seated in back.
Finn.
And the man in the suit.
The same man who warned me away, who negotiated pricing on the uranium, and who, if the murmurs are true, shot O’Brien in the head.
I untie the rope holding the burlap in place. Feeling helpless, scared, and slightly annoyed that I was caught. Because I listened to Finn. I trusted him and followed his directions, running away from the warehouse, empty-handed and heartbroken. A few minutes passed before two men appeared out of nowhere, hoisted me into the air, then stuffed me inside a burlap bag.
I kick away the material, freeing myself. How fast is the truck going? Perhaps I can jump.
“Don’t.”
My eyebrows arch at the suited man.
“Finn is about to explain what you’re doing here. I’ll interrogate you later . . . alone.”
“Like hell you will.”
My attention swings toward Finn. Despite his casual manner, his voice sounds strained.
This is bad. Really, really bad.
“Tell me something, Clarissa.” I flinch at the man’s use of my name. “Did he drink the water?”
“Excuse me?”
“This must be why Finn allowed you to be here. Permitted you to witness the uranium exchanging hands. Allowed you to film him . . . me.”
“He deleted my videos.”
“He let you go. Twice.”
“Yes. But I only came back willingly once.” I gesture at the burlap then frown at Finn, who has yet to jump in.
“You’re unusually quiet,” the man addresses Finn. “That in itself is telling. But I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself. Is there something in the goddamn water that would cause you to defy me?”
My eyes lock with Finn’s.
“Don’t hurt her.”
I blink.
“She knows too much.”
Finn’s bright blue eyes pierce through me. “I hacked her accounts and removed everything. She’s harmless.”
The man snorts. “She reveals secrets for a living.”
Finn is silent for a few agonizing seconds. Studying my face like he’s memorizing every tense line, every frightened look.
“I love her.”
I blink.
His boss grunts. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Finn said the same thing earlier, when he ordered me to run away. Considering the circumstances, I didn’t believe him. And now?
God help us. He’s afraid for me, isn’t he?
Because he loves me.
I remember cuddling Christiana in my arms as she passed away. Protecting her and loving her. Hopeless to do anything more.
Is that how Finn feels?
I face his boss. “I won’t lie. I intend to tell this story.”
“Now’s not the time for honesty,” Finn hisses. “Bleeding lie,