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Authors: Jevenna Willow

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

Sometimes
quickly made plans are not always the best made plans. Nolan knew this as they carelessly
tossed him at a burly man’s feet and he could no longer break the fall due to
his wrist.

He tipped his
head up, feeling the beating to his face. Blood trickled out of the corner of
his mouth, the bruising on his left eye was starting to swell, and if not
having at least his entire left side with broken ribs he would be mightily
surprised.

Thank God it was
him being tortured, and not Charlotte. She would not have survived cartel
generosity.

“Where is the
rest?” Rual asked heatedly.

Nolan could
barely focus at this point. “Rest…of what?”

“The heroine,
you son-of-a-bitch?”

“Heroine?” He
spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. His canine tooth lay near the man’s
booted foot.

One man then grabbed
him by the neck, yanking him upright, as another man sent a left hook into his
gut again, dropping him to his knees.

“I’m going to
ask you one last time, Devon, where the hell is my heroine?”

To survive he
would have to be quick on his feet, to what would not have detrimental outcome.
Thinking a plan, the problem was he wasn’t very coherent at this point, the
pain in his body overriding all else. “I…I have it…in a safe place,” he
wrenched out, spitting out blood again. “You don’t need to worry.”

This news seemed
to calm Rual. “Where?”

Fuck! New lie to
think up.
“Back
in Iowa,” he said.

“Where the hell
is this…
Iowa
?” Rual checked with his cohorts to see if they ever heard
of the place. Blank stares rushed back to him.

“In the States,”
Nolan continued, as Rual took a quick step toward him.

He expected the
man’s boot to make contact with his head again.

“Why the hell
did you take it with you to Iowa? You were supposed to deliver it to my
contact.”

“I did. He was
in Iowa. We met there.”

“And my money?”

“In Iowa, too.”

Rual groaned as
if in deep pain. “How the fuck am I to get everything out of this
Iowa
?
You know I can’t cross the borders without problems.”

“You don’t need
to go there. I can get it for you, sent directly here.”

Rual’s fists
balled, the man cracking his knuckles again. The same knuckles that produced a
black eye, a few broken bones, and missing tooth.

“Call the man.” Rual
then nodded to one of his cohorts who produced a cell phone. The man held the
phone out to Nolan. “Call him!” Rual repeated.

Nolan carefully accepted
the phone. Do or die, his bluff had better work, or this would be the last
thing he ever did.

“There is a huge
time difference, he might be asleep,” he said, stalling for time.

“Wake the
son-of-a-bitch up! I don’t have all day.”

Nolan nodded,
dialing home.

Thankfully, Devon
answered on fourth ring.

“You
motherfucking sonofabitch!!” he yelled at his twin. “You goddamn, cock-sucking
motherfucker…

Rual laughed,
while everything Nolan kept bottled up for days came out in a hurried phone
call to the last person he desired speaking to.

“Hey bro,” Devon
replied, “Love you, too.”

“I don’t want to
hear your voice.” He eyed Rual. “But Rual wants me to contact you…”

“Rual?” Devon
yelped.

“Yes, you
motherfucker.”

“Shit…!”

“Did you really
think you would get away with this,
Nolan
?” he rushed-asked his twin.

Devon caught on swiftly.
“For a while, yes.”

“But you did not,
did you?”

“Nope. Guess
not. Must be losing my touch.”

“Rual inquires
where his money is.” Nolan was drawing from faith and trust and using both
against his twin—both in short supply at this point.

“Are you okay,
bro?” Devon asked quickly.

“Nope. Not
really.” He spat blood on the floor again.

“Charlotte?”

“Surviving.”

“How many of
them are standing in the room with you?”

Nolan took his
time in answering this. They were not the brightest of men, but they should be
able to figure out if he said the number five they would know he was giving
Devon the exact count to the occupants in the room. “As many hens in a chicken
coop, you asshole.” The actual number of laying hens in his coop at home—if
Devon even taking care of the animals, he should know this number.

“Five it is,”
Devon confirmed. “Is there a man with a handlebar mustache?”

“Yep.”

“He’s the guy
you don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Already did,” Nolan
grumbled.

“Fuck.”

“Yep, that too—or
at least soon enough.”

“You okay?”
Devon actually sounded worried this time.

“Nope. Not at
all.”

“They’re giving
you the evil eye right now, aren’t they?”

“Yep.”

“God, bro. I’m
sorry you had to get involved in this mess. I got way in over my head, got caught
in some undercover shit, and I was going to tell you eventually…when you were a
whole lot less pissed at the world.”

“I’m never going
to be less pissed.” He took a deep breath to temper his fury, but this only
made his guts hurt.

“Tell Rual the
money will come to him in four hours,” Devon said.

“How the fuck is
that going to happen?”

“I have my
ways.”

“Yes, it seems
you do…
Nolan.

“Again, sorry
about this, bro.”

“You’re gonna
be,” Nolan threatened.

“I know.
Everything I’ve done for the last twelve years is coming back to haunt me.”

Nolan choked
back the bile. Devon was no longer discussing the money or missing heroine, he
was talking about Charity.

“Just get him
the goddamn money,” he yelled through the phone. “Anything else will be dealt
with when you and I are face to face and I can break your nose.”

“There will never
be a face to face if Whitey is with you,” Devon said softly. “He doesn’t give
quarter to those who steal from Rual.”

“Is that what
you did?” Acid burned the back of his throat.

“In a roundabout
way…yes.”

Nolan’s gaze
rose, his eyes locking on the man with the pure white hair—and handlebar
mustache. His groan rushed straight to his heart. The man who handed him the
phone now looked as if itching to get it back. Rual looked ready to spill more blood,
and the other three had their fingers on the triggers of their weapons, making Nolan
extremely wary of everything he said or did.

“Did you think
she would not get hurt?” he asked Devon. He was not about to confess aloud
Charlotte was alive and well, and these men trying kill him were not going to
catch on to the conversation then go look for her. His primary goal was to
protect Charlotte.

Devon did not
answer the question right away. When he did, he sounded cornered. “You said she
was fine.”

“Did I?” he responded
glibly, pissed as hell he’d been duped. They’re twins. He should not have been easily
fooled.

“Is she dead?”
Devon asked quietly.

“Not yet.”

“Is she there
with you?”

“No.”

They both knew
yes and no questions were the only ways they could communicate at this point.

 “Do they have
her somewhere else?”

“No.”

“You don’t want
to tell me where she is, do you?”

“If I could, I
would.” His answer truthful, he did not think Devon would turn on him
anymore—hell, he hoped his twin was at least a little concerned about their
welfare. If not, he was dead in the water and Charlotte left here to rot.

“You don’t trust
me,” Devon openly declared.

Nolan’s sigh
burned through every bit of marrow inside his bones. “Not anymore. How can I?”

Devon’s long
pause caused the regret of his words to build until he added, “You never did
trust me after Charity.”

“What the hell
did you expect?”

“We are twins,
Nolan. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth, sorry about everything.”

Nolan did not
care to hear an apology now, trying to steer clear of personal sentiment. He
knew the conversation was dipping toward Charity and Devon’s betrayal, and not
this newest development. “Not worth much, at this point,” he snapped at his
twin.

Devon’s heavy
sigh came through the phone lines, loud and clear. “Did they take you to their
compound?”

“How the fuck
should I know?”

“Green building
with four or five smaller huts surrounding it?”

“Yep.”

“Shit! I know
where you are. I’ll get the team together. We’ll get you out of there within a
few hours. Hang tight until then,” Devon said.

“You fucking do
that.” Nolan ground his teeth together, checking his mutiny. Hang tight meant
take the beatings until he either passed out or was five feet into a six-foot hole.
“You fucking do that, or I’ll rip out your heart and have it for breakfast.”

Devon chuckled,
as did Rual.

“I ain’t fucking
kidding!” he warned his brother.

“No. I’m certain
you’re not,” Devon agreed.

“And when I see
the whites of your eyes…”

“Yah, yah, I’ll
get the beating I sorely deserve,” Devon confirmed.

“No. You’ll get
my foot up your ass, my fist down your throat, and anything else I can think of
from now until then.”

“Just tell Rual
four hours. It’ll take me less than that, but it should buy you some time. I
know these guys. They want their money more than they want a dead body stinking
up the place.”

Nolan closed the
phone, handing it back to the man with the open palm. He then looked at Rual. “Four
hours. All the money…and the heroine,” he lied. “No problemo.”

“Should not have
been a problem to begin with. Four hours it is.” Rual turned to leave. “You get
to live until then. Come boys. We have work to do. Let’s allow our guest a
moment to contemplate on his incredibly foolish actions against Cha’rpa.”

The men responded
immediately, all five leaving the room and Nolan collapsing from the pain. He’d
nearly passed out with his tormentors still in the room, so he was quite
surprised he’d been able to hold it together this long. Now to trust Devon.
That was a path he was not certain he was ready to walk upon.

How his brother
could have done this and had even known what would happen to him and Charlotte
while down here, then not come to his and Charlotte’s aide when their plane
went down, was beyond thought. He was so angry with his twin, the fuel for this
fury gave him just enough strength to push to his knees, maneuver to his feet,
and with a little wobble in his gait, shuffle toward the door using whatever he
could to hold himself upright. He pressed his ear against the wood then listened.
No sound came from the other side. This did not mean he was alone, but he was
willing to take the chance. What choice did he have? Wait until they killed him?
Rual all but said this was the plan once he gets his hands on the money.
Furthermore, if Devon could deliver the money in under four hours, this meant
the money was already in Belize and it would not take long to get it into the wrong
hands, nor under the most horrific circumstances.

Nolan frowned.
His shaking hand covered the door handle. Continued punishment for stealing
from Cha’rpa and not the actual guy doing the stealing bites the big one. With
slow movements, he turned the knob, waited a few more seconds, and then
cautiously opened the door. Through a small crack, he found no one in sight, then
opened the door. Five seconds later, he left the building through a back exit.

Men who wanted
him dead were fools, the whole lot of them. They should have tied him up.

Broken bones,
black eye, and missing tooth was not going to stop him from finding Charlotte
and telling her the truth.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

 

Nolan used his
internal compass to get from point A to point B. A was the compound. B was
Charlotte. His gut feeling was telling him she headed back to Juan’s. Jesus! He
hoped his gut instincts were working, because that vital part of his body hurt
like the fire pits of Hell thanks to the beatings from Rual. Nevertheless, he
was used to crap like this. When Charity was alive, he and she were in more
messes than he’d ever thought would happen to them. It was that last mess that
took a mother and wife out of his life, but shit happens, and if judging fate’s
hand correctly, his check mark must have been set for something bad to happen
then.

This time things
were going to be different. He was not going to accept bad things happening to
Charlotte. He was falling hard for her even though he did not trust her. Still,
trust could be worked on, the kinks removed from any relationship, given the
right incentive and proper time.

He shook off the
melancholy, trudging through thick jungle brush, holding his broken wrist to
his side, while praying walking was not causing internal bleeding. This journey
started with one broken rib. As he gingerly touched each bone, he was certain
there were three now. Rual’s goonies were a bit rough in getting their
information from uncooperative victims; steel toe boots doing a hell of a job
at busting a man up.

His fury
released by a growl, he gathered a deep breath, closed his eyes for a few
seconds to relieve some of the blinding pain, and then headed forward. When
tossed into their canoe, they’d headed down river only a few miles. This could
make the trek about eleven miles back to Juan’s, give or take getting lost—or
eaten. He should be able to make it there by morning, hopefully.

He followed the
river’s edge, the arduous journey more than he expected, but come morning he
found what looked like a small village at the bottom of a ravine. It had to be
Juan’s place. He walked forward, hoping not to startle strangers into defensive
action. Two minutes later, he strode toward what he thought was Juan’s
domicile. He’d never been more surprised to discover Charlotte carrying water
from a well two hundred yards away.

When she raised
her head and their eyes met, he set his finger over his lips to silence her.

She dropped the
water and ran straight for him. “Oh, dear God! You’re alive!” Her impact caused
tremendous loss of breath in him as she threw her arms around his neck and
stood on tiptoes to kiss him soundly.

“Charlotte,
honey,” he mumbled against her mouth, holding his left side with his hand.

She hurriedly
released him. “Oh, dear God! You’re not all right, are you?”

“I was…until
this very moment,” he corrected. She’d thrown herself at him and his body could
not take much more agony.

“Oh, God! I’m so
sorry. I hurt you.” Blue eyes wide, she scanned him from head to toe. “They
beat the living daylights out of you, didn’t they?”

Nolan could
barely nod at this point, his agony increasing by the second. “I guess they had
nothing better to do.”

She ignored the
sarcasm. “I came straight here. I was not about to search for a place to hide
in the jungle. Juan’s was my only choice.”

“I hoped you
had. I took my chances you’d listened.”

“Hey! I always
listen…”

Nolan’s brows shot
skyward.

“I do…when it’s
the right thing to do,” she added quickly.

“Do you think we
can find a place to sit before I pass out?”

“Oh, God! Yes.
Juan is inside making breakfast. Come with me. It’s been rather difficult
communicating with him, but I’ve done my best.”

“That’s all
anyone can ever do,” he agreed, reaching for her hand.

Heading into the
domicile together, after pleasantries, Nolan asked for the ability to lie down,
which Juan very gratefully offered. Again on the man’s bed, Charlotte remained
at his side, touching his face, holding his hand for the next few hours. All he
wanted to do was rest until some of the pain ebbed from his body. After that,
he could make amends to this woman and discuss the small Devon problem they
must now deal with.

“I’m not dying,”
he told her, as her eyes filled with tears, Charlotte biting on her bottom lip.

“I don’t know
that for sure. They beat you to a pulp.” She gently touched his swollen eye,
his fat lip and bruised cheek, leaning down to give him a kiss.

He could well
imagine what his face looked like—death run over by an eighteen wheeler; it’s
back end filled with cement to finish him off.

“You don’t need
to worry,” he promised. “I’m alive. Everything will be fine.”

This broke the
camel’s back and her tears fell down both cheeks. “Oh, God, Nolan…I thought I
lost you.”

“I don’t
disappear so easily, Charlotte.”

“They wanted to
kill you.”

He raised his
hand, removing a lone tear from her pale skin. “But they didn’t. I’ll be fine
after a few hours rest. I promise.”

“A few hours?”
she yelped. “You need weeks, not a few measly hours. You look like shit.”

“I feel like it
too, but I don’t have weeks. I have hours.”

“But…”

“No buts, Charlotte.
Let me finish.”

She clamped her
mouth shut.

“I was allowed
to call Devon…”

“They let you
call Devon? Why?” she interrupted.

He held up his
hand.

“I’m sorry.
Continue,” she agreed.

“To them, I’m
Devon, remember?”

A quick turn of
the head gave her ample time to increase the production of moisture falling
from her eyes. “This is so messed up. You’re not Devon, they think you are,
so…Oh, Nolan, this is so messed up!”

“Ain’t that the
truth?”

“Why would they
allow you to call Devon?”

“I worked out a
deal. Money and heroine in exchange for a few hours leeway to escape.”

“You escaped?
They didn’t let you go?”

“No, they did
not let me go. I do believe their intention was to erase a huge problem, namely
me.” Thankfully, she hadn’t flown off the handle on the heroine aspect of this
conversation.

“Oh, God! Now
they’re probably out looking for you to finish the job.”

“Probably.”

“They will find
you…they’ll find us!”

“They haven’t a
clue to this place. And if they do, they won’t expect me to be here.”

“What about me?”

“You’re dead.”

“Why?”

“I told them you
were.”

Eyes wide, she
let this sink in before saying, “Good plan. Smart plan.”

“I thought so
myself. It worked. They did not go after you. In fact, they called you dead
weight, good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Gee, how
sweet,” she grumbled. “Shall we get back to Devon? If you’ve talked to him, is
he going to help us?”

“He said four
hours Rual will have what he wants. I did not ask him how this was going to happen,
and I don’t want to know. But he did say he’s going to get the Team together to
get us the hell out of here, and at this point I’ll just have to trust that Devon
is telling me the truth. We don’t have much of a choice, and I really don’t
want to admit my twin went against me or soured against
OSHIT
. We both
know he did. I’m not ready to say it aloud, however.”

Charlotte’s tears
fell harder, each of them tugging at the strings holding together his heart. He
never meant for anyone to get hurt. Thus far, everyone has.

“I need to say
this,” she began, drifting her gaze into his.

“Say whatever
you have to say. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’t
interrupt me until I’m finished,” she warned.

He sealed his
lips with his finger then smiled.

“I’m falling for
you. When I thought I lost you…” She choked back what she could of her loss of
control, pausing, but her sad nod was the epitome of walking through hell
holding Satan’s hand. He could barely swallow. He set his palm against her
cheek, feeling her warmth.

“You haven’t
lost me, Charlotte.”

She bent forward
and pressed her body against his chest. “After all we’ve been through, after
everything that has gone wrong, I’m falling hard for you, and I can’t lose that,”
she whispered. “I never had that before. I’m not sure how this works, or how not
to make you run for the hills, screaming…”

He set his hand
to the back of her head, sliding his fingers through her hair. “I won’t be
running for the hills, Charlotte. I’m falling hard for you, too. Don’t think
for one second I’ll let you slip from my grasp after the hell I’ve gone through
just to keep you safe while on assignment.”

She drew back
and gave him a slight smile. “I wish I could make love to you right now.”

Nolan groaned. “Jesus!
So do I, but it’s a bit impossible for me to even think about sex with the
amount of pain I’m in.”

“I know.”

“Not saying I
don’t want to,” he gently ruled.

Charlotte stared
at him. “I know it’s not a reality and I know we should be thinking about other
things…”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “I
don’t know. Like maybe how to let every ounce of control go between us and just
see what happens.”

“I know what
will happen, sweetheart.”

“You do?”

Nolan nodded.
“An explosion of heat beyond human measure, beyond anything the imagination
could conjure up.”

Charlotte’s light
chuckle was the best sound he’d heard in days.

“Can I ask you
something?” he continued.

“Sure. Open book
at this point,” she said.

This checked him,
stalling his words. He did not want her closing up on him after all they’d
confessed. “Are you still going to search for your father?”

Charlotte turned
her eyes away, but a gentle touch to her chin gained their return.

“No. He’s dead
to me. And if not, hopefully soon. My contact will keep tabs on him, I’m sure,
but he’s not worthy of my time anymore.”

“What is worthy
of your time?” he asked softly.

“You.”

Silence and
heated stares took up the next few minutes.

“Sweetheart, I
know you want what you’ve never had, and I will certainly do my best to give it
to you, but I’m incredibly happy you are finally giving up on the need for
revenge. It could have eaten at you until your dying day. That’s not a way to
live life.”

“Speaking from
experience?”

“In a way, yes.
Charity’s betrayal came to me at the worst possible moment in my life. Then,
her death complicated my entire life’s work. It’s why I started
OSHIT
. I
had to keep busy, buy my time until the anger lessoned.”

“Has it?”

He gave her a genuine
smile, sharing his secrets. “A twin’s betrayal may never lesson, but I can certainly
start on the path toward forgiveness. After all, I have you in my life. I don’t
want to lose that. Does this disappoint you? The fact I’m not quite over my
dead wife’s affair with my twin.”

Charlotte shook
her head. “You could never disappoint me, Nolan Morgan. I have you back. We can
start over—start anew. A huge, intimate hurdle was taken care of when we first met.
It’s all the others things we will have to work on to make this work. I’ll tell
you my secrets, Devon will get us out of here; life will be good.”

“Charlotte?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and
kiss me. No more talk about secrets, or Devon, or how badly I’m injured and
can’t make love to you.”

She shut up; and
so thoroughly kissed him, he almost lost control.
Almost.
A man did have
his pride while lying in utter agony on another man’s bed.

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