Page 73 of Healing Love

“Can’t reach him. He’s not picking up…or can’t.”

A thin line of light pierced the darkness as Cam blinked, trying to remember where he was. Consciousness came slowly and with it the realization that the light was coming from under a door. Lifting his head, he felt the cold, hard floor underneath him and moved awkwardly, as his hands were tied behind his back. It was obvious his assailant…fuck, that was Manuel…did not care about completely disabling him, but rather keeping him from being able to protect Miriam.Shit! Have they got her already?

His mind still slightly groggy, he heard his name being called from a distance.The sound became closer and clearer.Bart?Moving his feet toward the door, he began kicking as hard as his drug-induced body would let him.Surely someone will hear!He had no sense of how much time had passed, but prayed he was not too late.His heart pounded in fear, but he willed it under control. His feet continued to kick at the door until he heard a commotion on the other side.

“Cam? Cam?”

“Yeah! I’m in here!” he yelled back.

Within a few seconds the door splintered inwards, and Bart, Blaise, and Chad rushed in. Blaise dropped down beside Cam, a pen light in his hand as he immediately began to assess Cam’s condition while Bart deftly cut off his restraints.

“Do you know what they gave you?” Blaise barked out.

Shaking his head, he said, “No. Something in a hypodermic needle, but it was just a pinprick in the neck. Not a full injection.”

“Your pupils are slightly dilated. With the way you were kicking the door, it must not have been too potent.”

Bart and Chad assisted Cam up, while he roared, “It was Manuel fuckin’ Reyes, Alberto’s man.”

“We know. We got the intel, but it was too late. Do you know where Miriam is?” Bart asked.

The fear that had hold of Cam now threatened to choke the breath out of him. “Oh, shit. She was looking for Sister Genovia. They must have gotten them both.”

The dread in his eyes was replaced by confusion when he saw the glance shared by the other three.”

“Bro, the real Sister Genovia is still in Mexico. She became ill and is in a small hospital not associated with the Red Cross. We also got that intel. Someone is impersonating her.”

Stumbling out of the closet, Cam tried to get his legs to hold him up but found that Bart’s strong arm supporting him was necessary.

“Richmond PD, DEA, and FBI are here, Cam. We called everyone in as soon as we got here and neither you nor Miriam could be found,” Chad reported.

Monty and Marc came running down the hall toward the other Saints. “Got a visual of a woman in a nun’s outfit walking out with a woman who appeared intoxicated. There was a Hispanic man with them, and we’ve preliminarily identified him as Manuel.”

Cam whirled around drunkenly, grabbing Bart’s shoulders to steady himself, gulping air to clear his mind. “No reason to grab her unless they were taking her back.”

“Back to Mexico? To whom? You think Juaquim wants her?” Blaise asked.

By then the men had made it outside the building, the cold air slapping Cam into sobriety. He continued to breathe deeply, forcing his mind to work the problem. “Maybe. Jesus, I don’t know. The only one who showed any interest was…” he jerked his head back up. “The fuckin’ doctor. Dr. Villogas.”

Marc began talking to Luke quickly, who had Alberto on the line as well. A few minutes later, Marc nodded. “Got it.” Turning to the group, he said, “CIA has uncovered recent calls between Manuel and Ernesto Villogas. Luke is tracking her on his radar. Looks like the medallion you gave her with a tracer is working. She’s heading to a little airport outside of Charlestown.

Fearful his knees would buckle, Cam stiffened hislegs. Bart noticed and grabbed his friend by the shoulders, pulling his face directly in front of his.

“Bro, pull it together. We got this. But she’s needs to have you thinking clearly.”

Nodding, Cam pulled in a deep breath before looking into the eyes of the others. “Let’s go,” he growled.

The Saints rushed to action, each knowing exactly what needed to be done.

Miriam felt her body slightly bouncing as she forced her eyes to open. She had never been drunk and knew that was not what was wrong, but everything was foggy—her vision, her hearing, and her mind. The slight light hurt her eyes, so she squeezed them tightly together.

The sound of faraway voices became clearer.A man. And a woman’s voice. Close by. Very close.Instinctively recognizing possible danger, she slowed her breathing and tried not to move, mentally assessing her body with a nurse’s skill.Hands tied behind my back. Shoulder pain, but not broken. Ankles tied together also.She wiggled her fingers and toes, working the circulation back into them. Licking her parched lips, she tried to still her pounding heartbeat.Who are they? What do they want with me? Oh, Jesus. Please no. I can’t go back!

“He’s going to be surprised when I tell him we got her. He thought there was no way in hell I’d be able to pull it off.”

“Well, don’t forget who got you this far,” the woman’s voice said. “Without me stepping in to play the part of the good nun, you’d never have gotten your hands on her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know and you’re being paid well for your part in the charade.”

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