Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Going on and methodically following Jonah’s instructions, I part the skin and, using sterilized tweezers, dig in. I’m not a surgeon, and I have to dig around more than I like, the soft noises coming from the back of her throat piercing my heart.
“Got it.” Finally I pull out the rice-sized chip, holding it up for her to see before dropping it into the towel I placed on the counter.
“Thank God,” she mutters, tears in her eyes.
I’m not sure how long I worked or how much time has passed. I was only aware of the task in front of me and the sounds of her heavy breathing mixed with my own.
“Okay?” I ask her.
She gives a short nod.
I do my best to close the wound with butterfly strips, determined to get her to a doctor, and probably a tetanus shot and antibiotics, as soon as we are safe.
She ducks her head, pulling in deep breaths, as I turn back to the sink and wash off the blood. I have a hunch I’ll see that nightmare in my sleep often in the coming days. I clean up after myself, leaving no trace behind, except what I toss in the trash. Let the bastards dig through the garbage to find their tracker.
I place a hand on her shaking back. “Hey. Are you really okay?”
She meets my gaze, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed, but she manages a nod.
Damn, she is brave. We have to get the hell out of here, but I take a minute to lift her up and pull her into my arms. I need the embrace as much as she does. I’ve never done anything like that on someone I care about, and my stomach is roiling.
“You did good,” I say, not wanting to let her go but knowing we need to leave.
She tips her head back. “You did better.” She grins.
Unable to resist, I kiss her lips. Not for long—we have no time to spare—but I need a taste.
“Take the ibuprofen, and we’ll get on the road.” I press another kiss, this one to her forehead.
She tears open the pain killer we bought and swallow it with water. “Ready.” She takes a step on her foot, wincing as she walks.
I grab my bag, which carries everything, including the formula, wrap an arm around her, and rush out to the car.
We follow Jonah to the cabin in a beat-up Jeep in silence. Talia isn’t in a chatty mood, and I’m not about to push her to talk after what she’s been through.
I don’t mention it to her, but we have a tail a far distance away. I’m not surprised; they’ve obviously had someone on her, and with or without the tracker, they are on to us.
I knew I’d have to deal with whomever is after her at some point. Better to be aware than wondering.
But no matter how you slice it, my team is four hours away by private jet, then they’ll have to take a helicopter to reach the cabin.
We are talking hours before we can possibly feel safe, and though we might all reach the cabin at the same time, there is more of a likelihood I will have to take on at least the guy in the car and whatever backup he’s called on his own.
Chapter Nine
Talia
My hip hurts like a son of a bitch, the ibuprofen not even touching the pain, but I grit my teeth and don’t complain. There’ll be plenty of time to get medical attention once we survive this mess.
We reach the cabin four hours later, just as rain comes pouring down. We rush inside, lock the doors, and set the alarm, Jonah re-securing the trap he set along the path to the cabin. Although the man is paranoid, in this case, his suspicious nature will help buy time, because according to Shane, Ian and his team are still fifteen minutes out.
“I don’t want to alarm anyone, but we had a tail on the way here,” he says as Jonah settles in front of his state-of-the-art security system. “He didn’t follow us once we turned off the main road to the cabin. My hunch is he’s waiting for backup.”
“Oh God.” Nausea lodges in my throat. “Did you reach Sheila yet?” I ask Jonah. I have to get the formula to someone I can trust.
“Negative.” He keeps an eye on the screens for the intruder. Or intruders. Who knows what we are in for?
I sigh. “We need to get it into her hands. And in a way that can’t be intercepted. Can’t you just send the formula itself via email?”
“Not until I’m sure nobody else checks her account. She’s never been as safety conscious as me, no matter how hard I tried to teach her the benefits of being extra careful.”
Shane, meanwhile, mutters under his breath, pacing as he runs a hand along the back of his neck. I don’t have to ask him what is wrong. My stomach is jumping with nerves, as well.