Page 62 of Secrets Along the Shore

“Tyler, I’ve worked with them. They’re good people.”

“Then they can handle this.” Tyler shoved away from the table and stood. No reason for him to go if someone else could do it. If no one would do it, Tyler would have to take the job, only to help his mate. Success wasn’t guaranteed. But this was better. Koen’s friends could take care of it. “You don’t need me there. I’m going home.” Tyler pulled Koen’s keys from his pocket and tossed them onto the table. He headed for the door.

“They work well…and hard. But this is my daughter we’re talking about.” Koen exited the dining room and trailed him to the entrance. He cut off Tyler’s exit and pressed a hand against the door.

Tyler rested his hands on his belt. “The last mission I was on ended with eight dead soldiers.”—seven men and Tyler’s MWD— “Why do you think I should go rescue her after that failure?”

“Because you didn’t fail.”

He glared at the older man. Everyone knew he had. It was just that Koen couldn’t see that. If Tyler had done a better job leading them, if the other soldiers had more respect for him, it’d never have happened.

“Yesterday, Elara called me, begging for help as men found her.” Koen’s voice held a hard edge. “They hit my daughter.” Anger radiated from him and creased his brow. As it should. A good father should be enraged by someone hurting his children.

Tyler couldn’t do it. His friend needed help. But not his help. “Your team can handle it.” He kept his voice low. Guilt washed over him. He should do something.

“This is what you used to do, and you”—Koen’s finger jabbed his chest— “were bloody good at it.”

Tyler had done more than a dozen hostage rescues while serving. His team was trained to infiltrate enemy positions and extract their targets. In about six years, they’d only failed once. Their skill set made them a valuable asset. Until his men died.

Koen stepped back from the door, his eyes glassy now and his throat became thick as he spoke. “I don’t know how much time I have. My team is in contact with them and they’re trying to negotiate. But if things don’t work, I need someone I can trust to bring her out of there alive.”

Why did Koen put so much trust in him?

It didn’t matter. This was a bloody bad idea.

Ten minutes ago, in the vehicle, he’d wanted this. Wanted to get back into working. To do what he’d been trained to. But he didn’t want to do this. Not like this. Not with Koen’s daughter at risk. Not with a team he didn’t know.

An opportunity had been handed to him. Should he take it? For Koen’s sake, he had to.

Tyler met his gaze. “Where is she?”

CHAPTER

THREE

June 6

9:50 a.m., Dubrovnik, Croatia

“I’ll askyou one more time, who did you call?”

Elara clutched Rian to her as light flooded the small room where Viktor’s men had thrown them two days ago. She scooted back on the cot, trying to escape Viktor’s fury. She’d found out too late the terrible temper he had. He stomped across the room and snatched her hair. She gasped.

“Hey.” Rian reached for his dad. “Let Momma go.”

“Shh.” Elara held back a sob as she held her son. She grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled it back down against her. Who knew how Viktor would react if his own son fought him?

“Answer me.” Viktor spat in her face and yanked her hair, tearing out strands.

A burning throb shot through her head. Tears blurred her vision. She swallowed hard. “I…I called my dad.” She prayed that’d been a good decision. He’d served in the military, but he was in his fifties. What if he’d gotten wounded? Was he able to fight? Maybe if not, he’d at least send people to help.

“Stupid, useless…” he shoved her against the stone wall.

The side of her head collided with it. She groaned. Pain shotthrough her skull. Now she’d have another bruise to match the one under her eye. If not something worse, like a concussion. She touched where the pain radiated. Warm, sticky blood coated her fingers. She choked on a sob. None of that mattered as long as Rian was safe. She sank against the wall and prayed that God would protect them.

Viktor shoved his hands through his long, wavy hair. “Things were fine. Things were perfect. Just you, me, and the boy.” He flung his hand out.

Elara gasped and ducked. His hand was too far away to hurt her for once, but she couldn’t stop her automatic reaction. He’d hit her too often for her to remain still. Tears slid down her cheeks. She didn’t dare bring more attention to them by wiping them away.