Red

Eliot calls as soon as Kenna and I settle into a secluded barn house surrounded by a pile of snow. Alaska bleeds excruciating cold, and this mountainous part we're in is a pinnacle for winter storms. But it doesn't matter. I could dive into the pits of hell to get her back in my arms.

"I think we underestimated my father's lunacy and so I'm gonna have to devise the plan," Eliot informs me in a rushed tone of voice. "He's about to launch the Project Z. Clinical trial, he claims, but we both know what that means. He wants to fuck with you while sending a message to his associates. They want to discard him and he won't mind killing a few people to show them who got the ace even though he no longer has the formula!"

I swallow tightly and grit my teeth. That sonofabitch!

"A lot of people could die. It could lead to another pandemic—how fucked-up can your father get? What  the fuck is wrong with him?" I snap loudly. Kenna and Silver's men look at me from across the room but I soon turn around and proceed with the call. "So what's the plan?" 

"Cora Mitchell is the plan. I'll handle it," Eliot replies, and my gaze shifts toward the flames of wooden fire dancing in the aluminium drum in front of me.  The four of them are the only reason we're not freezing right now. "You stick to your task and I'll do mine. And just to be clear, you don't have much time, Red. My father has scheduled surgery in the morning to get rid of your baby. You only have tonight to stop it and that's the only time I could buy for you as far as my contact is concerned."

Several smoky breaths expel rapidly through my nose. I swear to God I'm going to kill that bastard for even thinking of doing that to my child. He's sick!

"Okay, we'll stick to our part of the bargain! You make sure your insane lab creations don't leak out in the world of the living or else there'll be deaths everywhere!" I warn him.

"Of course. Kingston Pharmaceutical makes drugs and vaccines to cure and prevent diseases and not the other way around! I'm not my father. I will show him what I am and for that, I need him alive, Red!"

"Can't promise that," I reply coldly, thinking of the video Patrick Kingston sent me a few hours ago.

Mia looked helpless. Tied up in a bed like a sex slave, drugged to oblivion, and him laughing and gloating that she's his wife and he'd do anything and I wouldn't be able to stop him.

Eliot continues. "We agreed—"

"It's no longer part of the deal! Your father needs to pay, Eliot, and if you're looking for credit or acknowledgment from him then find someone else to do your bidding because I'm not that person!" I turn around, and Silver walks in—big and tattooed, just as I recall. "A million lives are in your hands now. It's your choice whether to be the hero or villain of the story. As for me, I have my woman and kid on the line and that's my war. Let's meet again once this is all over." 

My family first.

Emotions cloud judgment; I can live with that. They matter to me more than anything else and if tonight is the only chance I have to save them, then nothing is gonna stop me.

Sighing, my attention return to the man of the hour.

Silver Reyes, a Cuban-Mexican ex-member of the SEAL Team 6, is one of my father's commanded apprentices. Last thing I know, Silver was with the SWAT in Georgia, but now he runs a crime drill in Alaska. I don't give an fuck about his reasons as long as he's helping me right now.

"Long time no see, Rayden! Your Pop would be proud." His firm arm grips mine as we share a semblance of a hug.

"Maybe." I pull back and examine him.

Still tall, rugged, and muscular: he's fully dressed in a flannel, timberland, and mountain hikers. Long black hair tied up at the back of his head, low cut to the sides like a typical gang leader. His right forearm is inked with a bone frog tattoo—the elite symbol of the US Navy SEALs.

"You don't fly alone, do you?" He trains his eyes towards Kenna and a smile pops through his tiny gray eyes accented by a scar across his right eyebrow. "Kenna Frederick Rys. What a small world," he murmurs, an amused tone to his gruff voice.

"The fuck it is." She obliges him with a firm handshake. "And this pretty face is here for business so let's get it over with, Silver, or else I'm gonna kick your ass, I swear to God!" Her voice is acidic and it appears this is some kind of reunion for them.

I frown, and Silver booms into laughter.

"Still as sassy as ever. A woman after my own heart." He looks at her rather admiringly.

"You two met before?" I ask.

"Not something I'm proud of," Kenna spats.

A grin spreads on Silver's face. "Apparently, the CIA don' have a soft ol' spot for me no more. I'm probably their top-notch criminal out there—who would've thought?" He seems happy to meet her. Not that I'm interested. "But let's be civil and do what the lady says." He marches toward the table with a lamp and a stack of machine guns and ammunition.

"You found the place?" I ask, and Silver mods. "Where is it?"

"Ever heard of St. Mathew's Island?" He grins at us. Kenna's furrow deepens, as one of his boys hands him a map and he lays it on the table. 

"That's a dead zone!" Kenna snarls.

"Easy, tigress. What I meant is... it's someplace uninhabited," Silver explains and draws a finger on the map for emphasis. "50 Miles North-West of here, away from civilization. It's a lone property, no neighbors, no shit. Just a stay-in housekeeper and a battalion of guards. Twenty-four-seven security on every angle and surveillance rolling in all directions." He looks at me, then Kenna who's highly absorbed now. 

"Are you sure she's in there?" I demand because there's no room for probability, I'm afraid. 

"The hell she is," Silver replies with confidence. "If the task is to get her and leave, then it needs to be clean which isn't my boys' speciality. Not sure how we're gonna go about it so you tell me what's the drill, Rayden." He gives me a tight look.

I fold my arms on my chest, considering all the details. Even if there are a hundred guards, I'll still have to strike tonight. All we need is a plan, and that's exactly what I don't particularly have.

Not the safe one.

Too little time to devise.

"Who says it has to be clean?" I chime in, unfolding my arms. An amused eyebrow rises on Silver's face. "All I need is her. Your boys can kill whoever gets in the way except for Patrick Kingston. He's mine to kill."

Kenna swallows tightly. I know she thinks I've lost it and damn right, I have.

"That's insane," she mutters. Her sly eyes narrow for a moment, staring at Silver and me in turns until she surprisingly adds, "And I'm so in. We only have tonight so no time for a pink plan. Silver and I will do the break-in, and the best shooter in the room will be wiping out the guards before the party begins. What do you say?" She looks at me with a warmonger excitement in her eyes.

I clamp my teeth and my jaw flexes. It's been ages since I last used my sniper gear. But I crave it. I need it. There's that bloodlust I've long forgotten.

Silver nods with a happy smile. "So... indulge us, Rayden. My boys should have something new to learn tonight about the legendary shooter the US Marine regrets to lose," he jokes.

I sigh heavily, eyes on the map, then on Kenna and Silver before replying, "The plan is in place. Let's do it."

Mia

Someone walks into my room but there is no light to see who it is. I don't move; I lead whoever it is to believe that I'm heavily asleep—something I can't seem to achieve since hours ago. All I think of is Patrick forcing himself on me as the shadow moves through the thin reflection of my bed's canopies.

But not again!

Tightly, I grip the knife I stole from the dining table, waiting for him. My breath burns erratically through my nose, and my heart beats so so fast it may burst. The second the figure reaches the canopies and leans toward me, I fling myself fluidly and pull his body into bed and pin it between my knees.

I hear a yelp and my knife lands on the throat as the adrenaline kicks in. I can't forget my self-defense classes with Red, even though this one came too easy compared to how grabbing him was.

Then I notice why.

Slim, long hair, sharp breathing, and manageable under my weight?

Not a man. It's a woman.

"Easy, Mia. it's me," I hear a familiar, pleading voice.

Anne? I frown.

But I don't let her go. The knife deepens toward her throat, and I make her yield under control.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your throat right now, you bitch!" I snap through clamped teeth.

And God knows what I'm capable of doing at this moment. At this place!

"I'm here to cut you loose, Mia! If you want to escape, now is the time because you won't be able to save your baby tomorrow believe me or not!" she claims.

Angrily, I push the knife even deeper until she gasps and chokes.

"And you think I'd believe you?" I yell in a harsh whisper.

"Well, don't! I'm only trying to help because it's the least I can do for your baby!" Anne retorts. Panting, her breath hovering rapidly on my face, she explains, "Red saved my life and I want to repay him. You don't need to trust me, but you sure need me to get out of here! We don't have time. It's now or never!"

I've never felt this indecisive and furious at the same time. Even though I'm the one holding a knife, I still feel like I'm the one whose life is being threatened. I feel lost and powerless.

How do I know if this maniac bitch is telling the truth or not? What if she's staging a trap so Patrick or his men can finish me? How can she get me out of here and why?

"Where is this place?" I demand.

"Valdez. We're in Alaska, Mia!" she replies.

Alaska? I've never been to Alaska.

My bravery retreats into the pits of my stomach. Startled, I'm rendered foolish of what to decide.

But I finally do.

"What's in it for you?" I don't let my grip on the knife fret.

"MK," Anne replies. "Sell your shares to me once all this is over."

Somehow this makes me feel at ease. At least it makes sense. 

I set her free by getting off her and reaching for the bedside lamp. It flicks on, and she sits up. And now that I can see her face, I realize why Patrick didn't want to keep her around to warm up his bed. She got a black eye and bruises all over her face.

Did he beat her?

"I knew you had your own agenda," I sit at the corner of the bedside table, my arms crossed on my chest. Anne shrugs, and my eyebrows crinkle the more I look at her marred face. "What happened to you?"

"Patrick did. All because I said Red will come for you." She laughs quietly, as though that's the very pathetic thing she's ever seen. 

"You earned it. I just don't understand why you're so obsessed with him," I think out loud. Anne looks at me with an indescribable glint in her eyes. "You had the chance to escape him but you still chose to go back to him."

Unexpectedly, Anne says, "I love him."

"Love," I whisper piteously. "How twisted can it get. Well, good for you, Anne. Good luck with him."

"Well, it doesn't matter. Save your sarcasm to yourself!" Anne snaps bitterly, even though that was never my intention. "I have the keys to the only car here so if we manage to sneak in, we're out of here. I got no phone, no nothing. But we'll find a way to leave this country once we leave this godawful place."

"Just like that," I utter, unsure if it's a question or statement.

"Yes, Mia. You got a better plan?" She snarls.

Honestly, no. But it sounds too easy to be true even though bypassing the security guards isn't child's play either. Even my room is guarded, which brings me to...

"How did you get inside my room?" I stand upright, my gaze trained cautiously at her.

"I have my ways, Mia. I'm not some weakling waiting for a man to save me!" She drops off the bed and all I manage to do is scoff because I can't bring myself to argue. She tiptoes toward the door, opens it carefully, and peeps outside for a short while until she whispers, "Are you coming or not?" while looking at me.

I don't trust her. I fucking don't. But I'm tempted to take a leap of faith and follow her. Like a fool, I want to get out of here regardless of the danger.

"I'm coming." I choose the reckless choice.

Two bodies are laying next to my door. I walk past each and glance up at Anne. How did she drug them? Or kill then? I don't have time to ask out loud as we walk through the darkness, heading for the exit I don't know.

And then, just as we're about to reach the so-called door through which I could the white snow-covered ground shimmering from the moonlight, the alarm goes off and security guards flood in a moment after. 

"Fuck!" Anne yells frantically.

"Well, surely this was not part of the plan, was it?" I fall back into the foyer, and Anne looks equally panicked, glancing around us as we get trapped so easily.

"Well, well, well," Patrick says, emerging between the guards behind us. I swiftly turn around, and he saunters over holding a gun. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he says, eyes blood-shot cold at me.

My chest heaves but I don't bring myself to cower despite the danger. I already knew this escape plan was too easy to be true, but it was worth a try.

"It was my idea! I wanted to take her away from you!" Anne bellows.

Her anger toward him seems deeper than I imagined.

But I don't need a save.

"Fine, you got us," I tell Patrick, showing all the signs of a willful surrender. "I guess I should just get back to my room." I have a bad feeling about Anne's pure reckless defiance and I'm not gonna be part of it. 

Patrick is no longer stable; I can't predict what he may do with that gun he's holding rather tightly in his hand. 

I'll do anything to keep my baby safe and dying isn't my only option right now.

"Not so fast, butterfly," Patrick replies and cocks his head slightly toward me.

Automatically, Bastien grabs me by the arm, holding me in place.

"Let go of me!" I wiggle around but he's too strong to resist. "I said let go of me!"

Ignoring my protest, Patrick saunters toward Anne with a menacing look in his eyes. I feel my breathing shallowing as I watch, and I stop moving when he grabs a handful of red hair into his fist, and draws her head back, forcing her to look at him.

Into her ear, Patrick roars, "I warned you to stay away from her, didn't I?" 

"Well, I couldn't! And she'll never be yours again! And that's your downfall, Patrick, because even if you hold her here she's still not yours! She's not! She never will be ever again!" Anne screams at his face.

Patrick doesn't respond but I see him lifting his gun.

I feel sick in my stomach because something is happening and I don't like it.

"You'll never be happy, you animal. You'll die alone and no one will cry for you! Do you hear me?" Tears well in Anne's eyes and the barrel of Patrick's gun is already pressed against her temple. "I despise you with all my guts! But I know your end is near!" She laughs, but for once I can feel her pain as though I understand it.

Patrick removes the gun from the safety; it clicks and his finger embraces the trigger.

"No..." I murmur, shaking my body to escape Bastien's grip. "Patrick, no. Don't."

"I know whose end is near, Anne," he tells her with a smile. No, no, no! I shake my head frantically as Anne closes her eyes. "Yours."

Bang! Bang!

_______

A/N: Well, I guess this is the end of Dear Anne's journey in this book. For good this time. In case, you've noticed, I changed Mia's location from Montreal to Alaska. Just a minor detail.