With her face smashed against the ground, Nadia could only see Ben’s shoes. Dante and Tristan were wrapped up in their conversation, so they didn’t notice when Ben slipped away into the trees. Where was he going? The beach was littered with bodies, and Grant’s was on top of hers.
Lord, please don’t let him be dead. She liked her life, but it wasn’t worth the former director of the Marshals. The world couldn’t afford to lose a man capable of doing that much good for people who would never be safe apart from his help.
She tried to move, then, as Tristan and Dante yelled at each other. Making a deal over Bolton’s stash.
“Stay still,” Grant whispered in her ear.
Thank You, Lord. He wasn’t dead, but Bolton was going to be by the sound of things. Tristan and Dante both wanted the stash, and he’d have to tell them. He couldn’t hold out forever against whatever they would do to him. Then, when they had it, they would kill him. Everything she’d been trying to do so far—everything she had thought God put her with Bolton to do—would be for nothing. And so why would God do that? God didn’t do pointless things.
Nadia held still while Dante and Tristan walked Bolton from one edge of her view to the other. They ignored everyone else. Their single minded pursuit, of whatever Bolton had hidden, ensured the fact no one else was going to get hurt here. At least she prayed they didn’t plan to put a bullet in everyone before they left.
If they didn’t care that anyone would follow or find them, then it meant they had extreme confidence that they would get what they were after. Nadia didn’t know how they could have that much faith in their own abilities. She would make a lousy criminal, always second guessing herself and hesitating. She’d probably be dead before the end of the first week.
Out the corner of her eye, she saw when Bolton’s leg give out. He moaned, and they hauled him back up to standing. He could barely walk. What had they done to him? Nadia rallied, praying harder than she’d ever prayed about anything. Bolton had been a huge part of her life for so long she couldn’t imagine it without him. Or having to watch him suffer like this knowing it would grow much worse before it ended.
Their voices grew quieter until she couldn’t hear them anymore. Nadia shifted. Grant let out a hiss. “Hold up.” He rolled off her to the side and moaned.
Nadia lifted up and saw it then. “You were shot!”
She whipped off her jacket, balled it up, and pressed it to the wound high on Grant’s chest. It was just under his shoulder blade. Half the blood on the back of her jacket was from where he’d lain on her.
“Grant.” She breathed his name, not knowing the first thing about how she was going to help him. Was there even a doctor nearby? Could she call for a helicopter to stop at a place where there weren’t supposed to be any people? Were there emergency protocols in place for this? He wasn’t a resident, or a marshal. They weren’t even supposed to be here.
Grant shifted. He lifted his phone up and ran his bloody thumb over the home button. The phone unlocked. He exhaled.
Was the injury in his lung? Was he having trouble breathing?
“Nadia.”
She flicked her gaze up to his face.
“Dial six-four-seven.” She fumbled the phone and got the numbers wrong twice. Grant set his hand over hers. “Relax, just breathe. Okay?”
She nodded and looked around. There was no one else here, no one but a bunch of bodies. With supreme effort she managed to dial the number. It was that or let Grant die.
“Go ahead.”
“Um…hi. This is...” Should she even tell them? Who was this? “Maybe that’s not important.”
“Go ahead.” The voice was impatient this time.
“Grant Mason has been shot.”
“Understood.” The line clicked off like a heavy textbook slammed closed in her face.
Nadia looked at the phone in her hand. “Who was that?”
“Help. That’s all. Just help.”
“It wasn’t Remy.”
“And Will has been compromised,” Grant said. His face was pale, and he was sweating.
“Where’s Ben?” She sucked in a breath and yelled, “BEN!”
“He’ll show back up in a few. He does that.”
“So we just wait? You’re bleeding out. We need towels, and a Life Flight helicopter.”
Grant had the audacity to smile.
“You could get an infection.” She glanced around. “Maybe I should help you to the dock. We can take the boat.” Even though she had no idea how to drive the thing. Or pilot it. Whatever you called it when it was marine stuff.
“Just keep pressure on,” Grant said. He gritted his teeth together. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“I don’t want to be here, surrounded by a bunch of dead—”
A huge bear of a guy dressed like a biker sat up.
Nadia screamed.
Grant’s chest shook. Was he laughing? “That’s Colt.”
The biker blinked, one hand on his chest as he breathed in and out. He moved it to a stripe of red across his side, and pulled it away with blood on his fingers.
“I don’t have another jacket. You’ll have to apply pressure yourself. The director is bleeding out.”
“And you’re freaking out.” Colt’s eyes narrowed as he got up and glanced around. “They took Bolton?”
Nadia nodded.
“And killed Thea.”
Grant made a sound of disapproval with his throat.
Nadia said, “Who are you?”
The man didn’t answer, he simply scanned the area.
Grant said, “Colt lives here. He was in charge of security.”
Colt glanced over. “Was?”
“Your town was breached.”
Nadia said, “That happened to us, too. They blew up the ranch and the side of the mountain. My friend Hal died.” Tears filled her eyes. Was the same thing going to happen to Bolton? “Now—”
Colt lifted one hand. “You need to quit talking before we both get slapped with new gag orders. Got it?”
Nadia nodded. “What do we do?”
Colt came over and sank down onto his knees. His side was weeping blood, but it looked like a deep scratch. He moved the jacket from under her hands out of the way and stared at the entry wound. Then he replaced the jacket and rolled Grant to look at his back.
“What?” she said. “What is it?”
“Through and through.”
“What does that mean?” It didn’t sound good at all.
Colt moved his gaze from Grant to her. “It means we don’t have to dig in there and get the bullet out.”
Bile lifted to her throat, but Nadia swallowed it back down.
“Don’t barf,” Colt ordered.
She nodded, determined not to disappoint him.
“I’m a sympathy puker.” The soft look disappeared so fast she wondered if he’d imagined it. “Gotta get you out of here, Director.”
“I’m not the director anymore.”
“Like that matters,” Colt said.
“Reinforcements will be forthcoming.”
“The call?” Nadia asked. When Grant nodded, she said, “And they’ll get you to a hospital?”
“And maintain the integrity of this town.”
Her next question, she asked Colt. “How many people live here?”
He glanced at the bodies on the beach. “Looks like we’re down to somewhere near eleven. Twelve if we can find Javier.”
“He ran off. And I’m so glad he did.” Nadia took a breath and fought the nausea again. “He didn’t have to watch them kill his mom.”
“Yeah, cause she was Mom of the Year,” Colt scoffed. “But finding the kid in the woods will be a pain. He knows these trees as well as any of us. I don’t know if that brother of yours went after him, but he’ll have a rough time following. Javier won’t leave a trail. He’s good.”
“Ben will find him.” Grant sounded so confident.
Nadia wanted to believe him. “I hope so.”
Caught in the middle of all this, the kid didn’t deserve the life he’d been given. If she could help somehow, Nadia would do whatever she could to make his life better.
“What about Bolton? We have to go after him. We have to figure out a way to help him.” Even as she said it she thought through their options. Shadrach was in the hospital. Will had been compromised. Ben was in the woods looking for Javier, and Grant had been shot. “I need to find him. To help him. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”
Grant laid his hand over hers. “Remy might be able to figure out where they’re taking him, but it’s a needle in a stack of needles. You might have to face the fact he’s gone. He wanted to find that stash he hid, and now he will. Dante and Tristan are Bolton’s battle to fight. He wouldn’t want you to get in the middle of it.”
Grant waved his hand to encompass their immediate area. A deluge of bodies, the trail left in Dante’s wake. Okay, so Nadia didn’t want to be one more. But she needed to at least try and help him.
Colt sighed. “I’m not liking that look on your face at all.”
Ben stopped. The rustle of leaves, tiny animals. Insects. Birds. He filtered the sounds to find what he was looking for.
The kid was good, but Ben had yet to find a man on earth he couldn’t track.
Ben took two paces to the right and peered around a tree.
Javier looked up at him, wide eyed and trembling.
“Hi.” Ben used the voice he used with Grant’s daughters when they were upset. He lifted both hands so the kid knew he wasn’t there to kill him—which seemed to be a genuine concern. Then he crouched. “I’m Ben.”
“Javier.” His voice shook, a boy on the cusp of becoming a man. A boy who’s entire world had just shattered.
Ben’s knees sank into the soft earth as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” They shook. “You know, this place is nice and all, but I think ants are crawling up my pants.”
Javier’s lips twitched.
“You think you could show me a spot that’s not infested with bugs?”
“That’s like the whole island.”
“Hmm.” Ben scratched his chin in an exaggerated move. “I see your problem.”
He couldn’t take the kid back to the beach where his mother lay dead in the sand. Or to his home, unless Javier was going to pack a bag so they could leave. But where could he take him? The kid needed protecting until this was over. Then, whether or not they conducted a paternity test, the kid would likely be parentless. And homeless.
Ben wanted to get him to the Idaho Sanctuary, where he would be safe and with people who would love him. Though Ben’s mom’s house was a close second. Either place Javier would be taken care of.
Despite the fact he was a child who would have little say over what happened to him, Ben wanted to give him the choice.
“I think we should get out of here. Do you have anything you need to grab?”
Javier got up. He strode to a nearby tree and reached into a hollowed out section. He pulled a backpack from inside and set it on his shoulder. Grasping the handle in front of him, the boy lifted his chin. “I’m ready to go.”
Grant had been loaded on the boat by the time Ben showed up, followed closely by Javier. Nadia gasped. “I’m so glad you found him.”
The kid looked at her like she was crazy. Colt looked up. When he saw who it was, he strode to Javier. He set his hand on the boy’s shoulder and spoke low, face-to-face, until the boy nodded. The two of them strode to the boat.
Nadia smiled as he approached. “Javier, right?” He almost reminded her of Shadrach. Dark hair and eyes and that wiry body that would grow into a tall and lean man. He was going to be a handsome one, too. But where she looked for Bolton’s features, she couldn’t find any resemblance.
“Is Grant okay?” Javier’s dark eyes stared at the former director.
Nadia nodded. “He will be once they get him to a hospital.”
“Let’s step back so these men can take Grant in.” Ben led Javier away back from the edge where the boat bobbed against the dock.
Nadia looked at the uniformed men, whoever they were they looked official in all black gear. Though the sight of them was enough like Tristan’s team that she’d been taken aback when they’d first arrived. Grant seemed to know them, even if they didn’t appear to be part of any law enforcement agency she knew of.
Grant’s gaze snagged hers. “Stay with Ben.” He was her best option for finding Bolton. But Grant would be the first back in civilization.
“Back up, Nadia.” It was tempting to simply jump on board the boat. Until Ben pulled her back by her arm.
“Fine. I was coming.”
The boat engine revved, and it sped away. Paul’s boat was still docked beside where Grant’s boat had been. “Let’s take the other boat. Get out of here.” She looked at Colt. “Are you coming or staying?”
“None of you are going anywhere.” Paul strode out of the trees, gun trained on them.
Ben shoved Javier behind him and stood in front of Nadia. She peered around both of them. Paul didn’t look like he would kill them here. He looked…like he was doing his job. “What are your orders, Paul?” He was here in a professional capacity. “What do you need?”
The marshal’s aim loosened, and he let the gun drop enough she relaxed. Though, Ben didn’t.
Paul said, “I’m taking charge of Pu'u honua.” He lifted his chin to Colt. “With respect, Mr. Thompson, your services here are no longer required. Though you’ll need to call in. Get a reassignment.”
Colt shrugged. “Fine by me.”
“Good. Javier?”
The boy didn’t move. “I’m fine.”
Paul glanced at Ben. “I trust you’ll venture down the correct channels as you transport a federally protected minor across state lines.”
“Of course, I will.” Ben folded his arms. It sounded like he was smiling. Apparently, Paul knew Ben, or of him.
Colt turned to her and asked in a low voice, “Do you ever feel like you’ve woken up in some freaky dream, and you have no idea what is going on?”
She wanted to smile. She really did. “All the time.” She touched Ben’s sleeve. “But we have to go. They took Bolton, and we have to get to Will before that.”
Ben looked at her. Not acquiescence. What was written on his face was more like a grave kind of sympathy. “Let’s head out.”
“What about—” Javier didn’t finish his question.
Ben turned to the boy and said in a soft voice, “What do you want to do with the body?”
Javier’s gaze flickered.
After a minute, Paul said, “There’s a team of Marshals headed here. They will process the crime scene, and I can contact you when your mother’s remains are ready for burial.”
What did a twelve-year-old boy do with his mother’s body when he had no money to pay for a funeral? Or maybe he was loaded. Nadia didn’t know anything about him, or even who he had thought his father was all these years.
Nadia slipped her hand into the boy’s. They were about the same size. “You can call me,” she told Paul. “I’ll help Javier figure out what to do.”
The squeeze of his hand was almost unnoticeable, but it was there.
Paul nodded.
They climbed onto the boat, and Paul watched as Colt piloted away from the Hawaii Sanctuary. Nadia hadn’t even seen the town. She could try and look at it on Google earth later, but it was probably just trees. The government was good at blind spots used to hide what was really underneath.
She glanced at Colt then at Javier, who sat at the back of the boat. “What are we going to do? I want to find Bolton. Should I call Remy and see if she can track them?”
“That’s your best bet,” Ben said. “We’ll find him.”
“Hopefully not too late, or he’ll be dead. You know they’ll kill him once they get what they want. I’m not going back to Sanctuary until I know if he’s okay.”
“And if he chooses to take his money and walk away, then what?”
Nadia blew out a breath. “He has this crazy idea that the stash will solve all his problems, when the reality is that he’s just searching for freedom. For a future of his own making. I wanted that, too. A long time ago. But do you know what I discovered?”
Ben shook his head.
“The future God had planned for me was far better than anything I could have come up with. He gave me a home and a family. Bolton didn’t see it that way, but it was a blessing to me, and he was part of that, the gift God gave me. I need to tell him that.”
Ben stared for a second. “And if you do, if he knows what he means to you, and he still walks away…” Ben shrugged, like what then?
“It’ll hurt, but he has the right to make his own choice. I’ll go back to Sanctuary either way.”
“Because you aren’t willing to live his life with him, your only answer is that he lives your life with you?”
Nadia had an answer on the tip of her tongue, but it evaporated. God had placed her in Sanctuary to gift her with a peaceful life. Surely Bolton’s presence there had been the same, not the prison he had seen it as. But if he returned, would he see it the way she saw it?
Had God only given her Sanctuary for a season, and now he had removed her from that place for a different reason? Maybe God might want her to walk Bolton’s path with him now, instead of going back. She’d assumed it was him who had to make the choice. What if God wanted her to pick a life outside Sanctuary? The threat to her had passed. If Bolton survived this, and he and Ben cleaned up the mess, the threat to him would be over as well.
Could they live a life outside Sanctuary, together?
Did she want that?
God, have I been selfish this whole time? Have I assumed I’m fine, and that Bolton was the one who needed to change? He needs to find You, to find faith. It will bring him the peace he needs, but will it change the direction he’s walking in? Should I be going with him, to the end? Whether it ends in disaster or not, is that my path?
Nadia glanced at the horizon, and the sun now peeking up from its watery slumber to wash the sky in orange.
Make it clear, Lord.
So long as he lived, did it matter where that was? Bolton’s life had to come first. His salvation. Whether or not he felt about her the way she felt about him, Nadia had to trust God on the outcome. Her heart was so tied up in him it was difficult to think she might not see him again. That she could lose him the way Javier had lost his mother.
She could live, Lord willing. She would return to Sanctuary one way or another, whether that was only to gather her belongings and leave witness protection. But first, she had to find Bolton so Nadia could tell him she’d been in love with him for years.
After that it would be up to him.