The Reunited - By Shiloh Walker Page 0,109

into her still face. There was little expression on it now. None of those odd little mutters, no sign that she dreamed. Nothing.

Just deep, deep sleep.

Again, he wondered how long it had been since she’d rested.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d sleep long enough for him to think his way out of this mess.

Although he wasn’t going to bet on it.

With that in mind, he pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket. Cuffing her right hand to his left, he lay back. Closed his eyes. Sleep. He was going to sleep.

Nothing else . . .

He wasn’t going to think about her sleek, warm body lying just inches away. They needed to talk. Needed to work through this mess.

And he wasn’t going to touch her until they’d done that.

The bed shifted.

Joss caught his breath as the cuffs rattled. Then she moved, wiggling closer, her face pressed against his arm, her free hand on his belly. Another one of those soft, disgruntled little sighs.

Hell. It was going to be a very, very restless long—

He dropped straight into sleep, like a rock thrown into the bottom of a well.

* * *

HER clothes still hung in the closet.

Her makeup case rested by the sink.

Her scent still hung in the air.

And her engagement ring was on the floor. Like she’d just dropped it.

Discarded it.

Patrick stared at it, fury pulsing inside him. Women didn’t discard him.

The little whore would pay for this.

The phone in his pocket vibrated and he reached for it. He no longer had the luxury to avoid calls. He was calling in favors, resorting to blackmail and bribes, just so he could be ready. So far, it didn’t look like they had traced the compound back to him, but it was just a matter of time and he needed to finish clearing out before it happened.

He was almost completely packed.

He had his passport.

In just a few more hours, he’d be on a plane to Morocco. That was just his first stop. After that, he wasn’t sure where he’d go. But he’d like to have some company. Ella. He’d like to have Ella.

The phone buzzed again and he answered with a terse, “Yes?”

“There’s no sign of her at any of the airports. She hasn’t rented a car. The bus terminals are harder to watch, but it doesn’t appear she’s taken that route, either.”

“Look harder,” Patrick said quietly.

“I’m doing what I can.” There was a pause and then the man on the other end asked, “Does she have any friends here? Anybody who could help her?”

Patrick frowned. There had been a man glimpsed on his property, but nobody had a physical description and none of the cameras were operational. There was no telling who it was. “She’s been isolated since she came here. All phone calls were monitored. If she had friends, it’s your job to find them.”

“I’ll keep searching. I think I’ll do a deeper dig on personal details.”

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Patrick bit off. “Just find her.” He checked the time on his watch. “I’ll be leaving in eight hours. If you find her before that, I’ll double your fee. But you’re to keep looking, regardless. I’ll be in touch.”

TWENTY-SIX

SHE dreamed.

She knew she dreamed.

Sleep held her in its tight, captive fist, and she couldn’t have broken free if she tried.

In the dream, she stood at a place so familiar, it almost hurt to see it. It was the first time it had ever been this clear, though.

The lake.

Swallowing around the knot in her throat, she stared out over the lake and remembered. Almost everything, it seemed. Bits and pieces drifting into her mind, settling into place as she stood on the shore.

It was like she stood on the edges of two places in time.

Two realities maybe.

In one reality, she saw the place as it was. She’d been here once. Following a dead-end lead. Two girls had been seen in this area . . . one had been the girl she’d been searching for . . . Sarah Hale, the runaway she’d been hired to find. Or at least somebody resembling her. And then Daylin Crosby.

Dru had never found any sign of them, but this place had freaked her out. Oddly enough, this was where she’d met up with Tucker again. He’d been prowling around the lake and they’d all but bumped into each other.

“I don’t want to be here.” She turned away from the lake to stare at the warehouse. It was old and vacant, covered with so much graffiti, the walls

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