Page 69 of The Chosen
“Three in the morning. The drop location appears to be a dirt path halfway between here and Lake Okeechobee.”
“Any other information about the location?”
“I’m working on it. It’s in the middle of nowhere, so not much to go on. I can send a team to do surveillance.”
Henry shook his head. “I don’t want to raise suspicion. We need to do everything by the book. As if it’s a regular drop.” He shifted his eyes toward mine and grabbed my hand in his, running his thumb along my knuckles.
What I wouldn’t give to rewind the clock just a few minutes. To go back to the carefree people we were then. Smiling. Laughing.
Loving.
I reminded myself this was precisely why I was doing this. So we could become those people again. So we could finally move on from this.
“Well,” I began in a chipper voice that betrayed my nerves, “I don’t want to be abducted on an empty stomach. I did that last time. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend.”
Silence settled in the kitchen as Blake and Henry looked between each other, then at me, then back at each other once more. Finally, Blake threw his head back and laughed.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever heard him laugh before. He was so much like Henry. Serious. Distant. Unreadable.
“I’ll tell you something, Henry,” he began, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ve definitely met your match with this one.”
Henry shifted his gaze toward mine, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in a hard swallow. “I most certainly have.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ariana
The bedroom was mostly silent, apart from the sound of the ocean waves outside the open terrace doors and Henry’s heart beating a steady rhythm as I rested my head on his chest.
Once Blake came in with the news that the drop would be happening in mere hours, the mood in the house instantly shifted. I tried to remain positive throughout dinner, but the more time that passed, the more apprehensive I became.
Even so, Henry suggested we try to get a few hours of sleep before we had to leave, since it was most likely going to be a long night.
I didn’t argue, even if sleep was the last thing on either of our minds.
Regardless, I was happy to simply lie here with Henry, savoring the warmth of his body against mine as I said every prayer I could think of that this wouldn’t be the last time I’d ever feel him. Touch him. Kiss him.
“Tell me a story,” I murmured, breaking the silence.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he replied in a raspy voice, touching a soft kiss to my head.
“So are you,” I shot back.
“Not sure sleep’s in the cards for me right now.”
I snuggled closer, tightening my arm around his torso. “Me neither.”
He pulled me further into him, his fingers lazily traveling up and down the curve of my frame. “What kind of story would you like?”
“Anything. A memory that always brings a smile to your face or makes you laugh.”
“You being stubborn and nearly choosing to stay in the cold and risk hypothermia when you first arrived at my cabin in Maine comes to mind.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want a story I already know. I want you to tell me a story I don’t know.”
He pushed out a long sigh, shifting his gaze toward the ceiling.
“I told you about my brother,” he began finally.
