Page 52 of Protecting Bree
“I don’t know for sure, but if Castillo really is headed for Ecuador, it’s unlikely he’d drive all the way there. He’d put his cargo on a ship. Probably in Ensenada.”
Smiley was still pissed. That they’d missed the women and they were no longer in the US. He also wanted to know where the hell Tex was. He’d been extremely pissed when he’d learned the task force failed and the women had been taken. Why hadn’t his ass been in front of his computer, doing all he could to rescue them before they crossed into Mexico? Or working with the Mexican authorities to intercept this fucking Perry truck and rescue the women?
He had too many questions and no answers.
“Look, I made the best call I could under the circumstances. Yes, I could’ve contacted you sooner about the trackers, but the women were already gone, and I thought my time was better used finding the truck. I’ll be in touch when I have more intel, like if they’re definitely going to Ensenada, what sort of vessel they’re transferred to, and if I can capture any video clips of the women. But until then…you’re going to have to trust that I know what I’m doing, and there’s no way I’m going to let this asshole get away with this.”
The steel in her tone went a long way toward making Smiley feel better. He still wasn’t happy, far from it, but the fact that this Ryleigh person was stressed and pissed off on their behalf actually helped.
“In the meantime, get back to the base. Your commander is already working to get approval to send a team to Ensenada to intercept that truck.”
“What?Why didn’t you start with that?” Cookie barked in disgust.
“I should’ve,” Ryleigh said simply. “But you had questions.”
Blink handed his phone to Cookie and hurried back toward the truck without a word, but Smiley felt rooted to the spot. This was the last place he knew for sure Bree had been. For some reason, he didn’t want to leave. It was ridiculous, she wasn’t there any longer, but his brain was screaming that he needed to stay right there in case she returned.
Again, that wasn’t happening, she was already in Mexico, but he couldn’t help but wish for the impossible.
“Go to the base, Smiley,” Ryleigh ordered, reminding him that she was watching them, even now. “And the last thing anyone needs is you guys getting into an accident. Fiona and Bree are gonna want to see their men, so Blink, you better fucking drive safely.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Blink said, as he knelt on the ground. He’d returned with a reusable bag from the truck, one of the ones Smiley used when he went to the grocery store. He began to gather the women’s clothes and jewelry.
“Hang up, Cookie,” Ryleigh said in a gentler tone. “I’m on this, and I’ll be in touch.”
He did as ordered, and held Blink’s phone out to him.He took it, and held his other hand up toward Cookie. “Here.”
Cookie closed his eyes as he wrapped his fingers around his wife’s jewelry.
“Smiley,” Blink said, getting his attention.
Turning, he saw Blink holding the necklace Bree had been wearing.
This felt…wrong. Permanent, somehow.
Clenching his teeth together so hard it felt as if they’d break, Smiley took the necklace and slipped it into his pocket. He’d hold on to the necklace until he could give it back to Bree in person. The tracker might not work anymore, but she loved the piece of jewelry. And when he found her, and got her home, he’d fix it. Or have Tex fix it.
Smiley was sure that Castillo wasn’t going to kill Bree or the other women. He had plans for them. He and his friends would just have to make sure he didn’t get a chance to finalize those plans.
Castillo had signed his death warrant by taking the women. He was a dead man walking. Smiley might not know how this would ultimately play out, but Castillo’s death was one outcome that was guaran-fucking-teed.
The smell of chicken shit was making Bree nauseous. And the air blowing through the back of the truck they were in, swirling the chicken feathers and dander in the air, along with the stench, was enough to make it hard to breathe.
Not to mention the skimpy piece of cloth they’d each been given to wear wasn’t nearly enough to keep them warm. The red light on the ceiling above allowed them tosee, but it was also seriously messing with Bree’s eyesight. The shadows seemed to be moving all around them and it was impossible to focus.
She sat in the corner of her cage with her head leaning against the side closest to Fiona, feeling as if she was hovering on the ceiling, watching what was happening from above.
Fiona and Julie were…well, they were amazing. They had every right to be hysterical, to have shut down completely because they were experiencing the same thing they had years ago. Who got kidnappedtwicein one lifetime? By someone from the same organization? By people who wanted to use and abuse their bodies simply because they were women?
Fiona and Julie, that’s who.
But they weren’t crying, bemoaning their fate. They were angry. And doing their best to bend the bars of their cages.
What was Bree doing? Sitting there feeling sorry for herself.
She was hungry, and thirsty, and she had to pee earlier in the corner of her cage, which was humiliating and demoralizing. And to top things off, that pee hadn’t stayed in the damn corner, no—the motion of the truck helped the liquid make its way to where she was sitting. So now the bottom of her skimpy slip was soaked in her own urine, and she was also sitting in it.
“Bree! Talk to us,” Fiona ordered in a bossy tone Bree hadn’t heard from her before. Not that she’d spent a lot of time with the older woman, but she’d seemed pretty even-keeled and not like one to boss people around.
