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He moved back, his hand reaching for her arm, gripping it. Then he backed her up to the truck. “Get in.”
She slid into the front seat.
“Get down.”
See?This was when he would do something amazing. One of the bags would explode, sending ink or even sand everywhere, and then they’d make their mad escape.
Or maybe Skeet and North would simply turn on Sebold, take him down while Doyle whisked her away?—
“Look at this, boss,” Keon said, lifting two of the gold bars. Smiling. “We got it.”
No. That wasn’t?—
Doyle couldn’t possibly have just given away sixty million dollars’ worth of gold to a pirate...
Skeet and North delivered the last of the bags and jumped in the back of the truck.
Doyle got in. Glanced at her. “You okay?”
She nodded, and he put the truck in reverse.
And backed out.
What? That wasit?
She fought her ties, her gag, and he glanced at her. “Hang tight.”
Really?
He drove them away from the resort, turned onto the highway, then pulled over and reached for her. “Let’s get that tape off you.” He eased it off her mouth, his expression wrecked, swallowing hard.
“Doyle—”
“It’s going to be okay.”
Someone had thumped on the roof, and he turned and opened the window to the back end. North handed him a knife, and he turned her, cut the plastic ties. Handed the knife back to North.
She rubbed her wrists as he put the truck into Drive.
And lumbered down the road.
“Wait—what—you’re not... Where’s your trick? Your sexy MacGyver move that saves the day.”
Doyle glanced at her, frowned. “There is no sexy move. You were the priority, Tia. Getting you back. That’s all that mattered.”
At least he hadn’t called her Juliet, but—“No. Doyle. What? You just gave awaysixty million dollarsin gold.”
He nodded, his eyes on the road, drew in a long breath. “You’re going to need to trust me.”
“I’m tired of people saying that! No—I don’t want to trust you. I don’t want to trust anybody. I want...” Her eyes filled. “I want this to be over. I want it all to be over. I want to stop turning around to find the world exploding and kids missing and bad guys showing up and—and life imploding around me and I can’t do anything about it!”
“Of course you can’t!” He glanced at her, his jaw tight. “We can’t control anything that happens, Tia. That’s the point. It’s not what happens to us—but how we deal with it.”
“It just feels like...” She shook her head. “It feels like nothing I do is ever enough.”
“Enough for what?”
She looked away. Her voice dropped. “Maybe... enough to matter to God.”