Rescuing Jenna - Anna Blakely Page 0,66

door wider so Adrian could go in first.

He’d barely made it into the room when Jenna’s scent assaulted his system. Nearly stumbling, he recovered quickly, schooling his expression as his nostrils filled with a mixture of lavender and vanilla.

Right then, Adrian made a vow to buy a fucking case of the lotion she used…as soon as she was back in his arms, where she belonged.

“You good?”

Not even a little bit. “Yeah.” Adrian moved further into the room. “Just not used to these damn crutches.” That sounded believable, right?

Behind him, Gabe muttered a very disbelieving, “Uh, huh.”

Fucker.

“Flip the lights, would ya?” he grumbled. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

“I’m sure you meant to say please, right?” Gabe turned on the lights. “I mean, I’m sure that word is in your vocabulary, somewhere. You might have to dig deep to find it, but—”

“What the fuck is that?” Adrian cut him off, his entire focus on the small gold box in the center of the bed.

Both men moved closer to get a better look.

There was a red bow tied perfectly around it, but he didn’t see a card or a note with it.

“Maybe it’s from the hotel.” Gabe glanced around the tidy room. “Housekeeping’s obviously been in here.”

Adrian’s gut said otherwise. “This hotel isn’t the leave-a-mint-on-your-pillow type of place, Dawson.” Still, wanting to be sure, he went to the bedside table and picked up the phone’s receiver.

The woman at the front desk confirmed his suspicions.

“It’s not from the hotel.” He hung up the phone.

Gabe studied the box again. “Seems too small to be an explosive.”

Adrian thought the same thing.

“Someone’s playing with us.”

“No.” Gabe looked over at him. “They’re playing with you.”

Leaning on the crutches, the tops dug into his armpits as he ran a hand down his face. “Looks like it’s my move.”

Adrian’s insides twisted. Looking at the box again, he did his best not to think of the different body parts that could fit inside the small package.

The idea that someone would torture his Jenna in such a way…

Not her. Jesus, not her.

With no choice but to look, he lifted his right crutch. Using the rubber tip, he lifted the lid before tapping the side of the box hard enough to make it fall over.

A loud breath escaped—one he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding—when a small cell phone slid out onto the bed.

“Jesus Christ.” He reached for the device.

There was no need to worry about destroying prints. The players in this twisted game wouldn’t have left any behind.

Gabe picked up the box and looked inside. “There’s a ring. Has some sort of crest on it.”

Adrian glanced at the piece of jewelry and frowned. “That’s a man’s.”

Confused, he grabbed it from Gabe’s fingers. Fear clawed up his throat, its sharp talons ripping him to shreds as he caught sight of the familiar design.

His heart stopped beating. The air inside his lungs turned to ice, and his brain refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.

Fucking no!

A horrifying clarity struck with such force he could actually feel the color draining from his face. His knees buckled, and if it hadn’t been for the damn crutches, Adrian would’ve fallen straight to the floor.

“Jesus, Walker.” Gabe’s hands helped steady him. “You okay? You look liked you’ve seen a damned ghost.”

No, not a ghost. Just a ring that belonged to one.

“It’s my fault,” he rasped. He could barely get the words out.

“What the hell are you talking about? What’s your fault?”

Adrian’s stuttering gaze rose to meet Gabe’s. “All of it.”

Something inside him broke, then. He fucking broke.

Little by little, he began to shut down. Starting with the parts he’d only recently discovered. The ones Jenna had brought out in him.

Soon, the only thing left of the man Adrian thought he’d become—the man he’d always longed to be—was a broken, hollow shell.

“Sit your ass down before you fall and bust your leg open.” Gabe grabbed the crutches and tossed them aside before guiding him down onto the mattress. He huffed a breath before asking, “You recognize that?”

He did. But the last time Adrian saw this particular ring, it had been covered in blood.

Blood I spilled in my blinding need for revenge.

“Hey!” Gabe gave his shoulder a hard smack. “Snap the fuck out of it and talk to me. Who does the fucking thing belong to?”

“Cesar Ortiz,” Adrian muttered woodenly.

Silence filled the space as Gabe processed the information.

“Ortiz…you mean the cartel leader?”

He nodded.

“How the hell do you know that?”

Lifting his eyes, Adrian met Gabe’s inquisitive stare and said,