Two days and not a fucking word from anyone. He had made his phone call and was waiting -- not so patiently -- for its return. Getting a hold of the man at the very top of the FBI’s food chain had proven to be slightly more difficult than he had been counting on.

“What can we do, Caid?” his mom asked sadly as she watched him.

“We can only wait; we can’t move until we get Pax out of the way. She will only alert Charmont,” Lance answered.

He was just as on edge as Caid was, both of them so volatile they had to make frequent trips outside for air. Every single day that passed without word killed off what little hope each had that Jemma was still alive.

Caid stepped outside and shut the door gently behind him. He leaned against the porch and looked out at the sea of trees that sat before him.

He had no doubt that if it suited Charmont, the bastard would kill his own daughter without a thought. Caid had seen it first hand when Charmont had tossed her into that hole and into the ocean.

Caid closed his eyes and felt the breeze pick up some of the hair off his forehead. He pictured Jemma the way she had looked the first time they sparred. On some level, he wondered if he hadn’t known she’d be it for him that very day. Because she was. Without her, a vital piece of him was missing.

The fear that he may never get it back was very real.

“Hey, Caid.”

Caid refused to turn around and acknowledge his sister. He hadn’t spoken to her since she had released him from the cuffs, and he had no intention of doing so until Jemma was safe.

“Please just talk to me, Caid. I’m sorry.”

“You could have stayed put, and we would have had everything we needed to bring him down without Jemma having to turn herself over. Do you even realize that the woman you decided to hate before even getting to know is the only reason you’re alive?”

“Caid--”

“I don’t want to hear it, Sophia.” He headed back inside, and just as he was stepping in through the door, his phone rang.

“King.”

“Agent King, it’s Director Jefferson. I certainly hope you have a damn good reason for calling me so many times.”

Caid’s heart jumped. “Yes, sir, I do. I have evidence that ties the Special Agent in Charge of the New York office to The Runner.”

“Well, that’s certainly a good reason. What do you have?”

“Not over the phone. I want to meet in person.”

“I’ve just landed in New York and have two hours until my first meeting. Bring what you have and meet me at the bureau.”

“Actually, sir, can we meet somewhere more private?”

“Where’d you have in mind?”

* * *

The scent of fresh coffee and baked goods surrounded them as Caid and Lance walked into the Pancakes N’ Such Diner.

The diner was small, but bustling with business. A short, slender woman in what Caid guessed to be her seventies, rushed them and embraced Lance.

“Hey baby. The man you’re meeting is over there, I believe.” The woman gestured to a booth in the back. “That, or I had better call our lawyer.”

“That’s him,” Caid commented and was surprised when the woman he assumed was Lance’s mother pulled him in for a hug.

“I know about Lance’s sister and how you feel about her. You will get her back, and you need to know that you’re family now.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Zarbey.”

“Anytime, doll. Go on.” She turned and walked away.

“Sir,” Caid greeted as he and Lance slipped into the booth across from the man Caid was placing every bet on. If Director Jefferson was dirty, he was storming Charmont’s estate and getting his woman back by his damn self.

“Agent King. What do you have for me?”

Caid slid the file across the table and said a quick prayer that he wasn’t wrong.

“Damn good work, King,” Director Jefferson remarked as he looked at the proof Caid had compiled into the manila folder. “This combined with the track you’ve found on Charmont is well enough to get you that warrant.”

“And Pax?”

“I’ll take care of Melanie Pax,” Jefferson said with disgust. “Brought her in myself to replace Cole. Now to find she’s dirty as well? This is some bullshit.”

Caid and Lance glanced at each other. It seemed the man lived up to his reputation. Jefferson was well-known throughout all agencies. He was uptight, and as by the book as they came.

“Seems I made a mistake. I’m putting you in charge.”

“Excuse me, sir?” Nothing would have surprised Caid more in that moment than his sudden promotion.

“I want you to act as deputy director of the New York office.”

“You’re putting me in charge?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” Lance said with a smile as he eyed Caid.

“What can I do to get you over to the bureau, Lance?”

“Sir, I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy with the NYPD.”

Jefferson sighed. “If that changes, you let me know.”

“Will do, sir.”

“All right, let’s go arrest Melanie Pax.”

* * *

“This is a surprise.” Pax stood as Caid, Lance, and Jefferson stepped into her office. “I don’t think we’ve met.” Pax acknowledged Lance with a nod of her head.

“We haven’t. I’m Detective Lance Zarbey with the NYPD.”

“Nice to meet you. What can we do for the NYPD?”

Jefferson spoke next. “It’s come to our attention that there’s a mole inside of this office. Someone who’s been secretly reporting back to Charmont.”

“Yes, I know; we’ve been working to isolate them since we discovered the leak.”

“Well good news then.” Caid set a file down on her desk. “We found him. Or rather, her.”

Pax opened the file and stared down at her photo. “You can’t be serious. I have worked tirelessly to restore the good name of this office. Why would I report back to The Runner?”

“He was paying you a pretty penny for info.” Lance clicked his tongue. “Shame on you.”

Panicked, Pax looked to Jefferson. “You can’t believe this, Michael! I’ve known you for years!”

“And it saddens me to see this” -- he gestured to the file -- “but the evidence speaks for itself, Melanie. Arrest her,” he ordered Lance.

“Melanie Pax, you are under arrest--”

“You can’t do this!” she screamed and turned her attention on Caid. “You have no idea what I’ve done for you!”

“Seriously? What you’ve done is cost countless lives while you’ve been sitting here behind your desk. What you’ve done, Melanie fucking Pax, is possibly cost me the life of someone more important to me than you could ever even imagine.”

“--anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law--” Lance continued.

“She is nothing but a whore! You would have tired of her and come to me eventually!” she screamed as Lance cuffed her.

Caid whirled on her. “That’s what this has been about? Jealousy? Are you fucking kidding me? I never even considered the idea of us together. I never would have come to you, which means you’ve given up your career and sold your soul for nothing.” Under different circumstances, he wouldn’t have been so harsh, but hearing those words come out of her mouth had sickened him.

“Jefferson!” she screamed.

As soon as Lance had finished reading her Miranda rights, Caid gripped her arm. “Just what was on that thumb drive, Pax? That you were so worried about us reading? Your name, perhaps?”

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she growled.

“I do. I hope you rot in your cell.”

Lance hauled her away, and Jefferson watched sadly. “Shame. She was a good agent.” He handed Caid a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Your warrant. Go get the son of a bitch.”

* * *

Caid spent the next two hours forming and briefing a team of agents to storm Charmont’s place.

“We are looking for Jemma Saige.” Caid put her picture up on the whiteboard and prayed they would get there in time. “She is a hostage who we need to make every effort to recover.”

He looked out at the two-dozen agents who sat before him. “We are working in conjunction with the NYPD. Detective Zarbey is bringing in his team as well. We want full participation from both agencies. Now, grab your gear and get ready. We move out in ten.”

Caid watched them file out, and then looked back to Jemma’s photograph. “You had better still be alive, Jemma.”

* * *

They pulled up outside the Charmont estate, ready for war if it came to that. The guard at the gate approached the vehicle, and Caid rolled his window down and offered him a smile.

“Can I help you?” the wall of muscle asked.

“Yes, I’m Agent King with the FBI, and I have a warrant to search these premises.”

The man’s jaw twitched. “One moment please.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to warn them. Open the gate.” Caid stepped from the vehicle, and the man stared at him as if he wondered whether he could make it past the five large vehicles behind Caid’s and warn his boss in time. “Agent Omars, please detain this gentleman until we have had adequate time to approach the domicile.”

“Yes, sir. Come with me, please,” Omars said as he exited the SUV and walked into the guardhouse. Moments later, the gate swung open, and Caid drove up the long drive. It was the first time he had gotten a look at the house Charmont resided in. It was immaculate. Not a blade of grass out of place.

The large two-story house sitting at the top of the hill was something straight out of a movie. It was a white plantation-style with powder-blue shutters, and displayed front and center was a water feature that changed color as it shot water into the sky.

How much blood had this house been built on? Caid wondered.

The door opened as they approached, and Caid held out his badge and the warrant.

“We have a warrant to search the premises.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he tried his best to slam the door. Caid’s men stepped around and stopped it from closing all the way, and before anyone had a chance to stop them, they burst in weapons drawn.

Caid’s first view was of nearly a dozen armed men rushing the door.

“On your knees!” Caid yelled at the men. “You’re gonna want to put those fucking things down!” he yelled as other agents came pouring in behind him. Charmont’s men lowered their weapons and fell to their knees. Caid charged past them toward the stairs as his team took charge. His mind was only on one person, and he prayed he would find her.

He began searching room to room, but found nothing. Refusing to let the panic grip his heart, he stayed focused as Lance approached and they searched together.

He opened the door to what looked to be a little girl’s bedroom. The bed was made perfectly, and the walls were decorated with pink and purple flowers. He took a step closer to a wall with pictures and saw one of a young Jemma sitting stone-faced near her father.

“He sure is a fucking piece of work, isn’t he? She’s what? Ten there, and looks miserable.”

“She would have just seen her mother die.”

Lance nodded sadly. “And she’d had to live with it alone. I should have been there.”

“How? You had no idea.”

“I should have done more research on our mother, found out why she would come visit but never stay. Surely that would have led me to Jemma.”

“We will find her, Lance.” They stepped into the hall. “She has to be here,” Caid said. The rooms were all empty. “She has to be here,” he repeated to Lance, who looked just as broken as he felt.

“King!”

Caid turned to see one of the men hauling a cuffed Liam up the stairs.

“He says he wants to talk to you.”

Caid saw red and slammed Liam against the wall. “Where the fuck is she? You better not have hurt her.”

Liam laughed in his face. “I’ll take a deal.”

“Not on your fucking life. But if you don’t tell me where she is, both these fine officers will look the other way while I tear you apart.”

“You think I’m afraid of you? Deal, or I don’t talk.”

“Hey, Pops. Mind if I call you Pops?” Lance stepped forward, and Caid took a step back. “You have my sister.” As Liam’s eyes widened, Lance let out an empty laugh. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot to introduce myself.” He leaned forward, and for the first time in his life, looked directly into the eyes of his sire. “I’m Lance, son of Madeline Charmont. I’m also Willow’s twin brother.”

“That’s not possible.”

“It is, and it’s the truth. Your wife hid me from you, and you never even had a fucking clue. So, how about you tell me where my sister is?”

Face red, Charmont grinned. “Your bitch sister is as good as dead.”

Before either Lance or Caid could react, Rogers pulled Charmont back. Caid ground his teeth. “Get him the fuck away from me before I make good on my promise and kill him.”

“We’ll find her,” Lance offered. “He said she was ‘as good as’. That means she’s still alive.”

Caid and Lance bounded down the stairs. “Anything?” he asked one of the SWAT team members.

He shook his head, and Caid headed out the back of the house. His eyes scanned for anything out of the ordinary. She couldn’t be gone; he wouldn’t accept failure. A future without her was one he had no interest in being a part of.

He spotted the willow tree she had mentioned was her namesake, and he began walking toward it.

“Caid.” Lance grabbed his arm and pointed to what looked like a storm cellar door that had been chained shut. “I’m running in to grab the cutters.”

Caid nodded and ran toward it. “Jemma?” He banged on the door, and when he heard a small whimper, he tried to pry the chain off with his bare hands. “Jemma, I’m here! Baby, hang on!”

“Here!” Lance handed Caid the cutters, and he clipped the chain from the doors. He flung them open and felt a rush of relief and anger as he took in the sight before him. He jumped down inside the concrete pit.

“Caid.” A tear-stained and dirty Jemma reached for him, and Caid pulled her into his arms. “You came.”

“Of course I did. You knew I would.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“It’s over.”

Tears began to pour down her cheeks. “I’m free?”

“Yes, baby, we got him. We got the asshole.”

He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. They sat, wrapped around each other in the pit that had been her prison.