Page 117
Story: Wicked and Claimed
Nash reached for Haisley, to clue her in. Then he pulled his hand back. Why wake her? He couldn’t tell her anything, and she would only worry. Instead, he dressed and slipped out of their suite.
As he crossed the compound, the lights flickered. They stabilized as he approached the building that housed the spa. Perfect. The security cameras should take a few minutes more to finish rebooting, giving him the window he needed to slip inside.
The service tunnel was situated exactly where Kane described, camouflaged behind tropical foliage and a maintenance door. The musty space smelled of mold and stagnant salt air.
Nash’s sat phone connected to his brother’s cell on the first try, the encryption bypassing the island’s security. Thankfully, he didn’t see any surveillance equipment in the dusty tunnel.
“In position?” Trees asked without preamble.
“Yeah. Talk me through it.”
Nash withdrew the flash drive and adapter he’d smuggled in his luggage. His brother guided him through the complex upload sequence in low tones.
As they waited, Trees filled him in on the investigation stateside. “Bad news. We found nothing useful or incriminating from the servers in Benedict’s office. And the police can’t confirm IDs on the bodies without dental records, so those IDs will take time. Fire department saved what they could, but…”
Another setback. “Damn it.” Nash watched the progress bar creep forward with agonizing slowness, sweat trickling down his spine in the humid tunnel. “Once we’re in, how long before you can access the system on this island?”
“If everything goes perfectly? Hours. Realistically? Days. This is serious military-grade encryption, definitely partitioned. Might even have quantum security protocols. I’ll have to move like a ghost—one wrong step and they’ll detect the intrusion.”
“Just…be as quick as you can. And careful.”
“You too, little brother.” Trees’s voice softened. “How’s Haisley holding up?”
Nash ran a hand over his face, stubble scratching his palm. “Not great. Shit went down at the ‘claiming ceremony,’ and she’s shaken. She also knows I was JasperThePrivateDick on that amateur crime-solving site. Her trust in me…isn’t strong right now. And my gut tells me she’s hiding something else. This pregnancy in her past… She won’t talk about it.”
“I know it’s frustrating, but none of that is priority one now. Focus on keeping her safe. The rest can wait until you’re free from that hellhole.”
Nash wasn’t so sure. The distance in Haisley’s eyes scared him more than any guard with a gun.
If she couldn’t trust him, how could they survive this ordeal? And if her faith in him was so shaken, how the hell could he keep her safe?
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following afternoon, Nash’s satellite phone with its encrypted signal buzzed as he watched Haisley stare out at the ocean, her arms wrapped around herself. The continued distance she put between them mirrored the emotional gulf that had only grown. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.
“Jasper King here,” he answered quietly, knowing the Velvet Cove’s surveillance could hear his side of the conversation…but his caller could spill the world’s best kept secrets, and no one would be the wiser.
“Mission accomplished. Kaylee is home.” Relief tinged Ethan’s voice. “Her parents couldn’t stop crying. Or thanking me. The girl herself… Man, she broke down the moment we were off that island.”
“Not surprising. Hopefully, that’s all good now. Anything else?” Nash was intentionally vague. Ethan knew he had to maintain cover.
“She’s traumatized, but she’s got a good support system. She kept asking about the other girls still on the island. Wanted me to make sure we’re going to help them, too. I promised we would.”
“That’s the plan.” Nash glanced at Haisley’s rigid back. She was listening, but she wouldn’t look his way.
“You holding up? I know you can’t talk, but the other night—you and Haisley—that looked…rough.”
“Incredibly.”
“Not good, huh?”
“Nope.”
“You two have been through a lot. I know you love her. I think she loves you, too. She’ll remember that once she’s had a chance to clear her head.”
Nash sincerely hoped so, but he responded with a noncommittal sound. “Anything else?”
“Not now, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay frosty.”
As he crossed the compound, the lights flickered. They stabilized as he approached the building that housed the spa. Perfect. The security cameras should take a few minutes more to finish rebooting, giving him the window he needed to slip inside.
The service tunnel was situated exactly where Kane described, camouflaged behind tropical foliage and a maintenance door. The musty space smelled of mold and stagnant salt air.
Nash’s sat phone connected to his brother’s cell on the first try, the encryption bypassing the island’s security. Thankfully, he didn’t see any surveillance equipment in the dusty tunnel.
“In position?” Trees asked without preamble.
“Yeah. Talk me through it.”
Nash withdrew the flash drive and adapter he’d smuggled in his luggage. His brother guided him through the complex upload sequence in low tones.
As they waited, Trees filled him in on the investigation stateside. “Bad news. We found nothing useful or incriminating from the servers in Benedict’s office. And the police can’t confirm IDs on the bodies without dental records, so those IDs will take time. Fire department saved what they could, but…”
Another setback. “Damn it.” Nash watched the progress bar creep forward with agonizing slowness, sweat trickling down his spine in the humid tunnel. “Once we’re in, how long before you can access the system on this island?”
“If everything goes perfectly? Hours. Realistically? Days. This is serious military-grade encryption, definitely partitioned. Might even have quantum security protocols. I’ll have to move like a ghost—one wrong step and they’ll detect the intrusion.”
“Just…be as quick as you can. And careful.”
“You too, little brother.” Trees’s voice softened. “How’s Haisley holding up?”
Nash ran a hand over his face, stubble scratching his palm. “Not great. Shit went down at the ‘claiming ceremony,’ and she’s shaken. She also knows I was JasperThePrivateDick on that amateur crime-solving site. Her trust in me…isn’t strong right now. And my gut tells me she’s hiding something else. This pregnancy in her past… She won’t talk about it.”
“I know it’s frustrating, but none of that is priority one now. Focus on keeping her safe. The rest can wait until you’re free from that hellhole.”
Nash wasn’t so sure. The distance in Haisley’s eyes scared him more than any guard with a gun.
If she couldn’t trust him, how could they survive this ordeal? And if her faith in him was so shaken, how the hell could he keep her safe?
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following afternoon, Nash’s satellite phone with its encrypted signal buzzed as he watched Haisley stare out at the ocean, her arms wrapped around herself. The continued distance she put between them mirrored the emotional gulf that had only grown. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.
“Jasper King here,” he answered quietly, knowing the Velvet Cove’s surveillance could hear his side of the conversation…but his caller could spill the world’s best kept secrets, and no one would be the wiser.
“Mission accomplished. Kaylee is home.” Relief tinged Ethan’s voice. “Her parents couldn’t stop crying. Or thanking me. The girl herself… Man, she broke down the moment we were off that island.”
“Not surprising. Hopefully, that’s all good now. Anything else?” Nash was intentionally vague. Ethan knew he had to maintain cover.
“She’s traumatized, but she’s got a good support system. She kept asking about the other girls still on the island. Wanted me to make sure we’re going to help them, too. I promised we would.”
“That’s the plan.” Nash glanced at Haisley’s rigid back. She was listening, but she wouldn’t look his way.
“You holding up? I know you can’t talk, but the other night—you and Haisley—that looked…rough.”
“Incredibly.”
“Not good, huh?”
“Nope.”
“You two have been through a lot. I know you love her. I think she loves you, too. She’ll remember that once she’s had a chance to clear her head.”
Nash sincerely hoped so, but he responded with a noncommittal sound. “Anything else?”
“Not now, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay frosty.”
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