Page 31 of Tactical Lies

“What aren't you telling me?” she demanded, directly meeting Connor’s blue gaze.

One of his hands rubbed the back of his neck, the other dragged down his face. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Becca. But your friend Isabella is gone.”

Chapter

Eight

August 18th

4:15 P.M.

All the color drained from Becca’s face.

Her knees buckled.

Connor snapped out an arm to catch her before she hit the ground.

She hung limply in his grasp for a moment as shock rampaged through her body, but his girl was too strong to stay down for long. In the aftermath of her assault, Connor had quickly realized that the soft, sweet girl he’d always known had a spine of steel, one he wouldn't have immediately assumed she possessed.

But she did.

In the darkest of times, her strength had shone through, blinding everyone who came into contact with her, amazing them all, leaving them in awe of the tiny woman who refused to be knocked down and stay down.

When she lifted her head to look up at him there was grief swimming in her midnight blue eyes. Grief that had the potential to drown her if she let it. All Connor could do was pray that she wouldn't. That she would fight through this like she’d fought twelve years ago and come out victorious.

Then he wanted to lock her away someplace where nothing could ever hurt her again. Because as much as he admired her strength and determination, he hated that she had to fight through pain and trauma just to survive.

“Izzy is … dead?” Becca asked, her voice breaking on that last word.

Part of him wished he could tell her yes.

In a lot of ways, death could be easier to deal with.

It was final, it had a clearly defined definition.

What had happened was not.

“I spoke to the leader of the village and the leader of the military unit deployed here,” he told her. Once he’d put his weapons down and walked into the village, explaining who he was and what had happened, the first thing he’d done was ask about the death toll and Becca’s best friend. As much as he didn't want to say this, he didn't have a choice. She had to know. “Honey, Bella is gone.”

“Can I see her body? I just … I need to say goodbye.”

When Becca went to pull out of his embrace, he gripped her biceps, holding her in place. “No, Becca. There is no body.”

“I … don’t understand. You said she was gone.” Those big blue eyes of hers stared up at him so full of confusion he wished he could wipe it away without shattering her heart in the process.

“She’s gone, Becca, but she’s not dead. She was taken.”

Becca gulped. “Taken?”

“Some of the villagers witnessed her being manhandled into the back of a jeep and taken away,” he explained.

“She was … kidnapped?”

From the tone of her voice, Becca knew exactly what that meant for a young, attractive woman in any part of the world, but especially there.

Isabella hadn't just been abducted, she’d been trafficked.

There was not a doubt in his mind that the poor woman was already out of the country or deep in the clutches of someone who would sell her to the highest bidder and not lose a moment’s sleep over it.

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