Page 137 of Blind Prophet

Luke never mentioned a pilot’s license. If the background he supplied Arrow is accurate, which it probably is—closest to the truth is always best—he wasn’t in Naval Aviation, and he hasn’t been out long enough to pursue a license in his free time.

Luke's got at least sixty pounds on me, with a special ops background. But he’s expecting compliance—standard protective services mindset. The element of surprise might be my only advantage.

Can I overpower Luke? There’s no doubt he’s stronger, bigger, better trained. But I’m more agile. I wish I were wearing stilettos and not these square heels.

I scan the adjacent parking lot. Three empty vehicles. The sun’s glare shields the interior of two vehicles. That’s a minimum of five individuals on-site, somewhere in this vicinity.

We’re close to the coast. Is he flying me to a ship in international waters?

When the driver comes back, can I take out two men? I’ve got to try.

If I get on that helicopter, I’ll never be seen again.

CHAPTER34

DORIAN

My attention remains locked on the transponder signal, a precise GPS coordinate moving across my tablet’s topographical display. The Mark IV tracking system has a ten-foot margin of error—not perfect, but enough. Even with my hands steady, my blood pulses through my fingers strongly enough that I’m aware of the rapid flow as I grip the phone.

I swear, my heart might pound out of my chest.

Ryan insisted on driving.

There are two SUVs behind us, loaded with armed men. Fisher’s in the backseat.

Do I wish I had my security team with me? Hell yes.

If my arrogance and desire for privacy get Caroline killed… I’ve built a business on controlling every variable, anticipating every threat to my infrastructure. But I never imagined she’d become collateral damage in someone else’s power play. I too often refused to be trailed by security, insisting I was safe.

My throat constricts at the thought of her in danger because of me. Cold sweat beads at my temples as images flash through my mind—Caroline hurt, afraid, alone.

Even when Caroline and I were together, and the press hounded us, hoping for photos of my new bride, I refused security. I thought I was protecting our privacy, our sanctuary. Now that choice haunts me with crystal clarity. If my arrogance gets her killed…I won’t survive it. Not this time. The universe is giving me a second chance with her, and I’m watching it slip through my fingers like sand. The weight of dread sits heavy in my chest, a physical ache that makes it hard to breathe.

“Nick checked in,” Fisher says from the back seat. “He’s got a team on this, but so far, no leads.”

Trevor stayed behind, dealing with the emergency team and securing the office. I don’t know the others with us. Names were shared, but they didn’t stick.

Thanks to my satellite footage, we know where she is. The dot hasn’t moved, and we’re minutes away.

A helipad comes into view up ahead on the hillside.

Fucking hell.

“Can you go faster?”

Stop-and-go traffic slowed us down, but we’re out of the city, and the speedometer reads ninety-two.

Every second counts.

“If the chopper takes off, we’ll track it.”

That’s not the answer I want.

“Tracking is exactly what he expects—what he may want,” I say, stating the obvious.

“We’ve got a team researching Luke. May lead to some clues,” Fisher offers up, I’m sure in an attempt to be helpful.

I stare at the dot.

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