Page 49

49

G one.

She’s fucking gone.

Where the hell was she? Why had he left her alone?

Ian needed to find her. Fucking now.

“What do you mean that no one can find her?” Jameson asked incredulously. “She can’t just have gone missing, right? A person doesn’t just go missing.”

Ian blocked out the rest of what he was saying.

This was his fault.

She was his to watch. His responsibility and he’d failed her.

“Whoever took her is going to die at my hands. Slowly,” Jack said in a dark voice.

Ian ran his hand over his face. Fuck. Jack was close to the edge. The edge that he was always trying to keep him from falling over.

It had been twenty minutes since they’d discovered that Maggie was missing. He’d kept expecting her to appear. To say that she’d gotten distracted and hadn’t meant to worry anyone.

Then he would have dragged her somewhere private, put her over his knee, bared her ass, and spanked her until he felt better.

Only that hadn’t happened.

Because she wasn’t . . . fucking . . . here.

“The royal family are all at the palace under armed guard,” Beck said, striding into the tent where Ian, Jack, and Jameson waited. “Caleb is nearly here.”

Where the fuck was she?

And why hadn’t he watched her more closely?

Ian should have stuck to her side like glue. Instead, he’d let himself be distracted.

All he wanted was to wrap her up in layers of his protection. To keep her close and safe.

And everyone else away.

Good job you’ve done of that, fuckwit.

“I sent William home with Hux,” Beck added. “I think we can safely rule him out of anything. Plus, he was getting upset. We need to interview everyone else here.”

“We need to be out there searching for her,” Jack said, moving around the tent.

“Could she have just wandered off and gotten lost?” Jameson asked.

Ian shook his head. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t know . . . she doesn’t always seem that aware of her surroundings,” Jameson said.

“Maggie wouldn’t have left her uncle,” Ian said. “She didn’t just wander off or leave. Someone took her.”

Jack nodded.

Beck sighed. “I agree. She’s very close with her uncle. I find it hard to believe that one moment she was going to retrieve something from the car, and the next she’s wandering off to the desert.”

“What?” Ian choked out.

Beck frowned. “What?”

“She went to get something from a vehicle?” Ian asked.

“Yeah, that’s what William said. Hux saw her walk off. Why?” Beck asked.

That could have been at the same time as they’d been talking.

“We were discussing our relationship,” Ian told Beck. “It’s possible she overheard.”

“Would that have caused her to leave?” Beck asked.

“She wouldn’t have taken off,” Jack said. “She might have stepped away for a moment, but she wouldn’t just leave.”

“All right, Jack and Ian, get out there and see if you can find anything,” Beck said. “But you need to check back in fifteen. Jameson, I’ll interview you first since we can pretty much rule you out. Then, you can leave.”

“Leave?” Jameson stared at Beck in shock. “I’m not leaving. I’m going to help find her.”

Beck frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You don’t have any training to help. We’ve got this covered.”

“I’m staying. I’m a doctor. If you find her and she needs medical attention, it’s better that I’m close by.”

“All right,” Beck said. “You can stay, but don’t get in our way.”

Ian waited until Beck left to turn to the other two. “We need to pull ourselves together. We concentrate on Maggie. Anything could be happening to her right now and we have no fucking idea where she is.”

And that, quite frankly, scared the shit out of him.

A whimper escaped her.

Darkness. Heat. Stifling.

She was so hot that she was beginning to think that her biggest worry wasn’t what her kidnappers were going to do to her . . . but that she was going to fry to death.

In the boot of a car.

Another whimper.

Small. Dark. Stuck.

She gasped for air.

She was so petrified that she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d peed herself. Not that she’d know because her body was still feeling kind of numb from whatever they’d injected her with.

Before they’d put her in the boot of a bloody car.

Can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

For some reason, Jameson’s voice came to her.

Close your eyes. Now, breathe in. Out. One, two. In. One two.

Do what he says, baby girl, Jack added.

Or you’ll be in big trouble, Ian warned.

Her heart raced, but she tried to follow their orders.

Be brave, Little girl. We’re coming, Ian murmured.

I would never let anything happen to you, baby, Jack added.

But was that true? Or was that just a story she was making up in her head to make herself feel better?

Would they come for her? Or did they believe she’d been using them? That was almost scarier than the situation she now found herself in.

They were her safe place . . . had they been torn away from her?

Someone is coming for you. Just stay alive.

Suddenly, just as she thought she might pass out again, the car came to a stop and the boot opened.

A man loomed over her. He was huge with dark hair. His skin was pockmarked and he had a scar on his left cheek.

He was utterly terrifying.

“Still paralyzed? Good. I don’t need any fucking nonsense.”

Good to know.

He lifted her, but this time, she was held bridal style. She could hear things around her. People talking. But she couldn’t turn her head to see what was going on.

Where was she?

She was set down on top of several cushions on the ground. In a . . . tent? The walls were white and a large wooden pole with a chain and cuffs attached to it lay in front of her.

Cuffs that the man secured around her wrists.

Just bloody great.

A sob escaped.

“Don’t make too much fuss, girl, and you might get out of this.” The words and tone weren’t unkind. But she was terrified all the same. Because she really didn’t think she was getting out of this.

“Yes, yes, I have her. She’s at the camp with us.” That same woman walked in, talking into a phone. “Yes, sir. We have photos of her with them both. Yes, we have a reporter ready with a story about how they are using her . . . how they are influencing her. Much older than her. Yeah, they’re British, but they’ve lived here a while. Uh . . . right. Yes.”

She ended the call.

What was that all about? What photos? Who was she talking about?

Her feet started tingling and she let out a low moan of pain. It was like having a massive case of pins and needles.

All over her body.

“Can you shut her up?” the woman asked.

The man sighed, then put a piece of cloth between her teeth and tied it behind her head.

“Was that him?” the man asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

Oh frogbutts. This hurt. So bloody much. She tried to move, to help the pain, but she was still partially paralyzed. She took in a shuddering breath.

“Is he happy you got her?” he asked.

“He would have preferred we grab someone more interesting. Pippa or Alina would have been better. Two women corrupted by the ruling men of this country. The headlines would have been better than a washed-up, pathetic athlete. But he understands that it was far easier to get to her. And we’ve been following her long enough and gathering enough information that it should make the front pages.”

What were they talking about?

Who had she been talking to?

Obviously she was the washed-up athlete. And they had photos of her? Doing what?

Her head was spinning and her entire body was drained.

It was hard to keep up with what they were saying, but she tried her best.

“The reporter is going to publish some of the photos we have. Beloved athlete is corrupted by Escana. Used by multiple men. Headlines like that. We have a few intimate photos to go with the articles and some interviews from concerned citizens. Including the doctor at the hospital she saw.”

Who? There were only two. Jameson and Doctor Evans. Which meant it had to be Evans. Asshole.

“He’ll lose his job,” Rufus warned.

“We’re already moving him out of the country.”

“And you think people will believe all of that bullshit? That they’ll care? There are a lot of people who love the princess and the princes. They’re all rooting for them.”

“I know that, you idiot. Why do you think I joined the Purity Party?” the woman snarled.

Wait.

These guys were part of the Purity Party? And they’d been following her? It made some sort of sense.

But she still didn’t get how kidnapping her helped.

“We should have just released the photos,” the man muttered.

“That wouldn’t have helped him. He wants us to delay the wedding, and that’s what this will do.”

Maggie was in so much pain that it was hard to concentrate.

“Now, I need you to rough her up a bit for some more photos.”

“What? You want her damaged? But why? Won’t that turn people against us?”

“Don’t be stupid, Rufus. We’re not going to tell people that the Purity Party have taken her.”

“What makes you think the royal family won’t tell people that?” he asked.

“Because they rarely talk to reporters. And it would make it seem like they’re attacking us without any proof. Especially when we issue a concerned press release. Plus, they’ll be scrambling to find her and postpone the wedding.”

Oh God.

She didn’t like the sound of any of this.

Just as the pain started to ebb, the woman turned and left, leaving her with Rufus.

He cracked his knuckles. “I’m sorry about this, girl. Don’t really like hurting women. But it’s all for the greater good.”

Then he took a step toward her . . .