I nodded. Wyatt was right. If an experienced gang had taken Savannah, they would have trafficked her fairly easily with their connections, even though she had a recognizable face. “On the other hand, I doubt the ones with experience would have taken her captive in the first place,” I grumbled.

  Smart and established criminal gangs wouldn’t have risked it. They controlled large territories and they had plenty of possible victims since a barrage of migrants crossed through the Darien Gap every year.

  “True,” Wyatt agreed. “Regardless, we’re getting her back.”

  I turned my head to see a determined look on my older brother’s face. “You feel up to this?” I asked him. “It’s been a while.”

  He shot me an irritated glance. “Are you trying to say I’m too old for this? I spent years leading a team of elite Delta Force members on highly classified operations a hell of a lot more difficult than this one.”

  Okay, was Wyatt getting a little defensive about the fact that he was going to be forty on his next birthday or what?

  Shit! He didn’t need to get touchy about that. I was only a few years behind him.

  It wasn’t like I doubted his experience or his skills. My brother had balls of steel, and he was also fitter than most guys half his age.

  “Hell, no,” I told him. “That’s not what I’m saying, but it has been a few years since we’ve personally done a rescue.”

  Like the Montgomery brothers, Wyatt and I tried to keep a low profile with our involvement in Last Hope since our faces were recognizable.

  Secrecy was an important advantage for us, and we knew it.

  “I’m always ready,” he snapped. “What about you?”

  I grinned at him as I quoted the motto of the 160th SOAR. “Night Stalkers never quit.”

  In a more serious tone, I added, “You know I trust you more than anyone to watch my six.”

  Wyatt nodded sharply. “Same. I couldn’t sit back and watch you take this on without me being there. I know the importance of keeping a low profile, but I also get why you volunteered. This one is personal.”

  “I couldn’t sit in Last Hope headquarters running this mission while someone else was out there looking for Savannah,” I confessed.

  “You’re not,” Wyatt reassured me. “We’ll find her, Chase, and we’ll bring her home.”

  A lump began to form in my throat as I answered tightly, “We have to.”

  “I know,” my brother shot back.

  Thankfully, he didn’t pursue my admission.

  Instead, he pulled out the map and started to study it. “You should be able to land your bird in a small clearing that’s fairly close to Savannah’s location,” he said in a no-nonsense voice. “From there, we’ll do a short boat paddle to get to a good location to penetrate the jungle. Marshall will have a local guide waiting to keep an eye on the helicopter.”

  I already knew that “short boat paddle” was actually a fairly long stretch of river.

  I’d already memorized the entire route and our plans by heart, but I didn’t mind going over the details. It kept me from thinking about anything else. “I don’t think Marshall missed a single detail,” I told Wyatt.

  We’d planned the operation time so the entire mission would happen under the cover of darkness, which wasn’t a problem for me. I’d spent most of my military career flying night and twilight missions.

  “Does Marshall ever miss any details?” Wyatt asked drily. “I’m pretty sure the guy never sleeps.”

  I chuckled. “Everyone involved in Last Hope is really anal. We have to be. But Marshall is one of those guys who excels at thinking about every single thing that could go wrong and having a plan in place for every possibility.”

  “Which is why he’s so respected and the guys coming out of special ops are willing to put their asses on the line in the civilian world,” my brother pointed out.

  “True,” I agreed. “There wouldn’t be a Last Hope without Marshall. Sometimes I do wonder why he chose to dedicate his civilian life to this volunteer organization, though.”

  “I don’t think he was ready to retire,” Wyatt mused. “He needed a purpose. I get that, but the man could definitely use some time off occasionally.” He started to put the map away as he added, “I think we’re ready. We need to try to get some sleep before we land. We’ve got a few hours.”

  He was right. We needed to be as rested as possible.

  I stood to make my way back to my bed.

  “Chase?” my brother said roughly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Make sure you actually sleep,” Wyatt demanded. “There’s nothing we can do until we get to Panama.”

  I nodded.

  I’d sleep because I had to, but I highly doubted I’d be dreaming about anything or anyone else but Savannah.

  Savannah

  “Vanna? Talk to me, sweetheart! Come on!”

  I heard the voice urgently calling to me in a hoarse whisper against my ear, but I couldn’t quite wake up. Why was I even being asked to do that?

  “Savannah! Fuck! Talk to me, dammit!”

  The voice that had sounded so far away got a little bit closer.

  As some of my senses started to awaken, I noticed something I hadn’t felt for what seemed like forever: a slight breeze on my face.

  I suddenly became aware that someone had a gentle hand on me, apparently trying to shake me awake.

  Definitely not one of my captors since this touch is painless.

  “I gave her some Narcan before we got in the boat because she was so heavily drugged that she was barely breathing,” a different voice remarked in a harsher whisper. “But I doubt she was only getting opiates. It won’t reverse some of the other drugs.”

  Through my brain fog, I began to wonder if someone was trying to…help me.

  At least two people, actually.

  Both were male, but were these two guys friend or foe?

  As my mind cleared a little more, I also noted that the second voice had mentioned…a boat?

  Shit! Was I dreaming?

  I listened, trying to shake my confusion enough to figure out what was going on.

  We were definitely in the water. I could feel the sway of being in motion on the river.

  A moment of panic seized me, but I shoved it back down.

  Where were they taking me?

  “She’s breathing, but her pulse is racing, and her whole body is shaking. Come on, Savannah. Talk to me. Argue with me if you want. I’ll even let you win this debate,” the first voice cajoled in a calmer tone as he lightly shook me again.

  “I think she might be septic from her injuries,” voice number two replied. “I didn’t have much time to get a good look, but some of Savannah’s wounds look severely infected.”

  Okay, they were using my name. That was…different.

  Maybe I should have been terrified that I was being taken away from my previous location, but for some reason, I wasn’t anymore.

  I finally recognized the fact that I was being cradled carefully on someone’s lap, a firm but gentle arm securely around my waist.

  “Savannah,” the voice sounded again right next to my ear. “Torie’s worried about you. I want to be able to tell her that you’re going to be okay. Talk to me. Even if you just tell me to go to hell. I need to know that your brain is functioning.”

  My entire being was shocked into paying very close attention.

  Dear God, I recognized this voice now.

  Chase?

  The possibility of Chase Durand being here in the Darien jungle was less than zero, but I couldn’t shake the instinct that it was him holding me, begging me to wake up.

  I willed my eyes to open, and they finally obeyed, but I couldn’t see anything except darkness. Everything was pitch black.

  “So thirsty,” I managed to say in a voice that didn’t sound at all like my own.

  My throat felt like sandpaper, and it was a relief when the person holding onto me offered me a drink.

  Instinct took over and I drank, even though I couldn’t see a damn thing.

  “Go slow,” the voice said, his tone sounding relieved that I’d finally opened my eyes.

  I took another sip. And then another. I drank slowly until I was eventually satisfied.

  “Please tell me that you’re here to take me back home,” I choked out.

  “We’re here to protect you and take you home,” the slightly amused voice replied obediently.

  Wait? Wasn’t that what they said in the movies when the Marines were sent in to rescue someone?

  I shook my head, hoping it would shake away the confusion.

  It didn’t.

  “Military?” I questioned.

  “Not exactly, but we used to be if that makes you feel any better.”

  “Chase?” I blurted out his name without thinking. “Is that you?”

  “It’s me, sweetheart. Wyatt is currently rowing us to safety,” he told me quietly. “It’s over, Vanna. You’re safe.”

  I was still disoriented, but the relief that flooded over my body was very, very real.

  I tried to hold back a sob, but the gentle hand stroking my hair made me lose that battle.

  I buried my face against Chase’s shoulder, trying to be quiet because I wasn’t certain we were completely out of danger. I tried to keep my voice low as I asked, “How is this even possible? Where are we? How did you get here? Why are you here? How did you rescue me? And how can you see anything? It’s pitch dark out here.”

  “That’s a whole lot of questions at one time. Relax, Vanna,” he directed. “I’ll answer all your questions eventually. How are you feeling?”

  “I think I’m sick, Chase,” I murmured, unable to stop my body from shivering uncontrollably. “I know I was heavily drugged, and I’m not sure where I’m injured because my entire body hurts.”

  “I know, sweetheart. We’re getting you to a good hospital as quickly as possible. Once we get to the helicopter, Wyatt can look at your injuries while I’m hauling ass to get you to the hospital. You’re hurt, dehydrated, undernourished, and probably septic from infection. I’m not going to lie to you.”

  Strangely, it was actually comforting that he was being completely honest. “Thank you. It helps to know the truth. I’ve been so drugged that I’m not actually sure how long I’ve been here.”

  “It’s been a week now,” he answered. “It took a while for us to realize you were kidnapped because no one saw or heard anything. The government thought you just wandered off and got lost. There were endless search parties that turned up nothing. Torie sounded the alarm when you didn’t get back to San Diego on time. She knew something was wrong.”

  “How did you find me?” I questioned, my brain still muddled.

  “Now that’s a longer story,” he said gently. “Let’s focus on simpler things right now.”

  “God, I feel so dazed,” I groaned. “I’m still not sure that I’m not hallucinating.”

  “It’s the drugs and the infection,” he replied. “Wyatt and I are here, and we’re getting you home. You’ll have to trust me. I want to orient you, but I don’t want to overwhelm you right now. You can get all the complicated answers later. I just want you to know you’re safe, Vanna.”

  Safe?

  Honestly, I hadn’t experienced anything except fear and pain since the moment I’d realized that I was being kidnapped.

  “I was so scared, Chase,” I admitted softly, my heart acknowledging what my brain couldn’t at the moment.

  Chase was here.

  He was real.

  He and Wyatt were actually rescuing me.

  As ludicrous as this all might seem, it was truly happening.

  “I tried to escape,” I explained. “I was beaten for every attempt. I knew they were going to traffic me. I guess it just became easier for them to keep me unconscious. That’s when I started losing track of time.”

  Chase rocked my body slowly. “You were brave, Vanna, and you’d have to be crazy not to be scared shitless. Especially since you realized what their intentions were. Did they sexually assault you? We have to know so we can treat you for that when we get to the hospital.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think so. If they did, I don’t remember it. But I’ve been so out of it—”

  “It’s okay,” Chase said in a husky tone. “We’ll get you checked over for that anyway. Don’t get frustrated because you don’t remember things. You were drugged. Wyatt gave you Narcan to reverse the opiates, but I’m sure you were sedated, too, which is why you still can’t think clearly.”

  “I want to remember,” I told him. “I just…can’t.”

  So much of the whole experience was still a big blank spot in my head.

  I’d been held captive for an entire week, but all I could recall was the first day or so.

  “It’s okay, Vanna. Let’s just get you well right now,” Chase replied in a steady, comforting voice.

  I let out a small sigh. Like I had a choice? It was highly unlikely that my head would suddenly clear. “I guess I’ll have to focus on that,” I told him. “I’m definitely not up to debating you right now.”

  This Chase was new to me. This man who was holding me, gently reassuring me, and making me feel safe was a part of him I hadn’t seen since I was child. He’d patched me up several times when I was a kid, but I’d probably forgotten exactly how kind and reassuring he could be.

  But this time we were all grown up, and it was undeniably….different.

  “Damn,” he said in a teasing tone. “With you in this condition, I might have a chance of winning a debate.”

  “You always win anyway,” I protested weakly.

  “My father was a Parisian,” he grumbled. “I had plenty of practice. And you got your point across often enough.”

  I tried to smile, but it was painful. I remembered how much Torie’s father had loved a lively debate.

  “We’re here,” Wyatt said in a firm, no-nonsense tone. “Let’s get this bird moving.”

  I felt the bump of the boat connecting with land and grimaced.

  Shit! I hurt everywhere.

  “This is going to be painful, Vanna. I have to move you to the helicopter. I’m sorry,” Chase said, his voice radiating with remorse.

  “I can’t see anything, Chase. Is someone here to fly us out of here?” I asked, disoriented because I couldn’t see anything but darkness.

  I assumed that Chase and Wyatt were wearing some kind of night vision goggles since they appeared to have no problem navigating in the dark.

  “Yeah,” he answered in a joking tone. “Me. You ready to put your life in my hands, sweetheart?”

  It suddenly dawned on me that Chase was piloting me out of here himself.

  I held back a cry as he shifted me in his arms. “Not frightened at all,” I answered honestly as I panted through the pain. “According to Torie, you used to be one of the best helicopter pilots on the planet.”

  “Still am,” he shot back as he stood. “Hang tight, Vanna. This is the really unpleasant part.”

  I let out a whimper of pain I couldn’t stifle as he started to move. Everything hurt so much that I felt the darkness closing in. I fought it. I was finally somewhat aware of what was going on. I didn’t want to lose that awareness now.

  “Christ! I’m sorry, Vanna, but I have to get you off this damn boat. I think your shoulder is dislocated, and I know this is going to hurt like hell,” Chase rasped against my ear.

  When he hopped off the boat, the agony of my injuries became too much to handle, and I decisively lost my battle not to fall into unconsciousness.

  Chase

  Two weeks later, I felt like I’d been dragged through hell and back again.

  Savannah had recovered at the best medical center in Panama City, but the road to that improvement had been way too precarious for me.

  When I’d finally seen her condition in the light of day, I’d wanted to kill all four of the bastards who had abused her.

  Now, I still wanted to kill them, but my mind was slightly calmer since she’d made it through the rough patches. It also helped that the four assholes responsible for her kidnapping had all been apprehended, pled guilty and had been put in prison already.

  I knew I’d never forget the cry of anguish that had left her mouth the moment I’d jumped down from the boat to get her on the helicopter. Or the helpless whimpers of agony after that.

  The flight to Panama City had seemed like the longest I’d ever flown, even though it was relatively short. Vanna had lost consciousness and had stayed out cold for the entire duration of the flight, which had been a blessing for her.

  In hindsight, it was a damn miracle that Vanna had even had the strength to speak while she was on that boat.

  They’d fixed her dislocated shoulder and it was out of a sling. Her fractured ribs were healing. A plastic surgeon had done his best to repair the deep wounds on her face. The doctors had gotten her pain under control soon after we’d arrived, and after so many IV antibiotics that I’d lost track of them, she was finally clear of the infection that had invaded her entire body.

  So why did I still feel so hypervigilant even though her condition was improving and I was taking her home to finish her recovery?

  Hell, truth was that she still looked fucking fragile as she sat on the bed in my bedroom on board my private jet.

  She hadn’t regained all the weight she’d lost, and the repaired lacerations on her face looked painful and angry against her pale skin.

  She was smiling at me as she put me in check on the chessboard, but her beautiful hazel eyes were still slightly haunted.

  Not that she really talked about her fears much, and the woman had been braver than an injured soldier twice her size during her recovery, but I could sense that the uneasiness was still there.

  It was going to take time. I knew that. Hopefully, she’d feel more secure once we were back in the States.

  “Check,” she said as she finished her move.