CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The whine of the engines ramping up filtered into the plane’s cabin. Rowan stroked Alexa’s dark hair, her touch light. They were pressed against the seat by the quick acceleration and liftoff.
The girl shivered in her arms. “We’ll be fine,” she whispered into Alexa’s ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Lex.”
“I’m scared, Aunt Ro.”
“I know, sweetheart. Me, too.”
“I want to go home.”
Rowan’s heart squeezed. “Soon.” If they were rescued. No. When they were rescued by Brent and his operatives, home still wouldn’t be the same for Alexa. Her mother and father were dead, killed by the man who was flying them to an unknown location.
Her gaze skimmed over the watch again. Would the tracker still work in an airplane? She prayed Brent’s safety measure worked and a rescue operation was underway because she didn’t know how much patience Keith Phillips had. When the plane landed, would his forbearance come to an end?
Once the plane leveled, Phillips stood. “There’s a bedroom in the back, Ms. Scott. Take the kid back there so she can sleep. Or not. Your choice. Fair warning, though. I hate kids and won’t tolerate any disturbance from you or her.”
Alexa’s arms tightened around Rowan’s neck. “Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered.
No chance of that happening. “Where she goes, I go.”
“Keep her quiet or I’ll do it and punish you for causing me trouble.” Phillips slid a glance to Hard Hands and inclined his head toward the back of the plane.
She couldn’t wait to escape Phillips’ scrutiny. The man blamed her for not having the information he wanted. Jerk. This whole mess was his fault. He made the choices that led to his association with Jay Maxwell, Toby Minter, and Nolan White, and whatever bad business deals her brother-in-law had going with the cartel and the militia groups.
Rowan struggled to her feet. Hard Hands backed off when she stepped in the aisle and gestured for her to precede him to the bedroom.
Did he believe she’d try anything thousands of feet in the air with a child in her arms and at least two armed men on board? Wouldn’t surprise her if the pilot was also armed.
Rowan stopped at the darkened door to the bedroom. It was pitch black inside.
“Light’s on the right,” Hard Hands snapped. “Hurry up.”
She glared at him over her shoulder. Rowan shifted Alexa’s weight, not an easy feat since the girl choked her in an effort to stay in Rowan’s arms.
She finally found the switch and scanned the room. A queen-sized bed took up a good portion of the room with a small bathroom to the right. Excellent. More comfortable for her and Alexa.
Hard Hands jabbed her in the back with his gun. “Inside, Ms. Scott.”
Rowan moved into the room and the door slammed shut behind her. A second later, a lock clicked. Phillips and Hard Hands were locked out. For the first time since she’d been carried away from Brent at gunpoint, the muscles in Rowan’s body relaxed a little. Hopefully, she and Alexa would have a chance to rest before the goon returned. She had a feeling rest would be scarce once the plane landed.
Wherever it landed. No point in obsessing. Rowan would handle their future destination. She didn’t have a choice. “He’s gone, Lex. We’re safe for the moment.”
Alexa raised her head and looked around the empty bedroom. “I don’t like him.”
Smart girl. “I don’t, either. Can I put you down now, sweetheart?”
The girl nodded. Rowan almost sagged with relief after Alexa’s feet were on the ground. “The bathroom is right there,” she said, motioning toward the room.
“Oh, good.” Alexa rushed across the room, paused in the doorway. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll be right here.”
Apparently satisfied, her niece hurried into the bathroom and shut the door.
Rowan sank onto the bed and laid back, grateful to stretch out her back muscles. How long would they be in the air? Where was Phillips taking them? More important than all those questions was one that had been at forefront of her mind. Was Brent still alive?
Her mind replayed the moments in the cemetery after she said a final goodbye to her sister. The walk across the quiet grounds. The search for the right mausoleum. Waiting for a kidnapper to bring Lex. Instead of exchanging her niece for the records, a bullet smashed into Brent and three men took Rowan from his side.
Rowan replayed in slow motion the moment when Brent had flown back and hit the wall and realized what she’d missed in her desperation to reach Brent. No blood. She frowned. Even when she ran to him, there’d been no blood. How was that possible?
Rowan sat up. A vest. One of those bulletproof vests. Her pulse accelerated. Nothing else made sense. No question a bullet slammed into Brent. She’d seen the hole in his shirt, but no blood. Rowan prayed she wasn’t deceiving herself with a hopeful fantasy.
Brent was the best of the best. He and his operatives knew and understood the danger at the cemetery. They’d have taken every precaution to keep themselves safe so they could protect her and Alexa.
The door to the bathroom swung open. Alexa sat beside her. “What do we do now, Aunt Ro?”
“Take a nap.”
Alexa wrinkled her nose. “A nap? I’m not a kid anymore.”
Rowan’s lips curved. “Is that right? I’ll bet you haven’t been sleeping much.” If she’d been in Lex’s shoes, Rowan wouldn’t have slept much, either.
“I was too scared to close my eyes very long.”
Rowan pressed a kiss to Alexa’s forehead. After she took advantage of the facilities herself, she found a blanket and curled up beside her niece. She wrapped her arms around the girl.
“When can we go home?” Alexa wanted to know.
A question she wanted answered for herself. Unfortunately, there was no easy answer. “I’m not sure, Lex. Soon, I hope.”
“Why did the bad men take us?”
“They want information.” Information Alexa’s father had been foolish enough to gather, keep, and had probably used.
Alexa frowned. “How will they get it if you’re here? Do you have it?”
Rowan wished she had Brent’s bug detector, afraid to speak too loud in case the room had listening devices. Leaning close to the girl’s ear, she whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”
A quick nod.
“A friend of mine will find us. He has the information. He’ll take us home, Lex.”
Alexa’s eyes widened. “Who is it?” she whispered back.
“His name is Brent.” Her cheeks burned even as her heart squeezed thinking about him. “My boyfriend.”
“I didn’t know you had one.”
“The relationship is new, Lex. He’s wonderful.”
Her niece was quiet a moment, then, “Do you love him?”
“I do, but he doesn’t know yet so you can’t tell him.”
“I promise not to tell.” A pause. “Are you sure he’ll come?”
“Positive.” No matter who or what he had to go through, Brent Maddox would come for them.
With that last bit of reassurance, Alexa slid into a deep sleep.
Thank goodness. At least she hadn’t been forced to explain about Heather and Jay. Rowan knew the reprieve was short-lived. Her niece was wicked smart. Alexa must know something was wrong if neither of her parents had come for her. Eventually, Lex would ask for the truth.
One crisis at a time. Rowan had to keep them alive long enough for Brent to find them, unless she had an opportunity to escape. Somehow she didn’t think that would happen. Phillips had a lot at stake. Losing his advantage wasn’t in the game plan.
Rowan’s lack of sleep caught up with her. Soon, she found herself drifting. Knowing she had to stay alert, Rowan never fully dropped off. Every noise, shift in altitude, or pocket of turbulence startled her into wakefulness. Thankfully, they remained undisturbed in the bedroom sanctuary.
At some point deep in the night, the air pressure and the sound of the engines changed. Rowan’s eyelids raised. She glanced toward the door. Still closed. Wouldn’t last long.
She glanced at Alexa. Her niece’s back was to her. Better start the wake up process. Rowan began stroking Alexa’s dark, silky hair. Before long, the girl stirred.
“Aunt Ro?”
“Right here.”
“What’s happening?”
“I think we’re going to land soon.”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know, Lex. We’ll find out soon.”
Minutes later, the lock turned and the door opened. Hard Hands stood in the doorway, gun in hand. “Let’s go, Ms. Scott.”
With Alexa’s hand in hers, Rowan returned to the cabin to find the hatch open and the stairs down. Phillips waited at the opening along with another man, this one a stranger. Dark skin, dark hair, cold gaze.
Alexa pressed close to Rowan’s side. She squeezed the girl’s hand, hoping to reassure her. She wished someone would do that for her, but Brent wasn’t here. Yet. How far away was he?
Hard Hands jabbed his gun in Rowan’s back again. “Move.”
“This way, Ms. Scott.” Phillips gestured to the opening. “We have an appointment. We don’t want to keep our host waiting.”
Their host? Rowan straightened her shoulders. Whoever the host was, if he was a friend of Phillips, he wasn’t an ally for Rowan and Alexa.
The girl glanced up at her, waiting for direction from Rowan. A slight nod and both of them walked toward the doorway. At the top of the stairs leading to the tarmac, a warm tropical breeze surprised her enough that Rowan paused.
The stranger spat out something in a foreign language, shoving her forward. More strangers scurried around the tarmac, all of them speaking Spanish.
Where had Phillips taken them?