Page 103 of Everything We Found

Thomas jerked to attention and something vital ripped apart inside him. His thoughts flying to Nadia. Fascinating how the mind grasps for the light of love when faced with the darkness of death. The image of her smile blazed in his mind, the sunlight caught in her hair the morning after the first night they spent together. Her laughter. Her touch. The way she looked at him as if she saw the man he was beneath the hard, cruel layers baked onto him.

He shared a look with James. He loved his brother hard. He’d die for him if it meant he’d live. And it looked as though that would very well happen tonight.

“I’m sorry,” he said to him. Sorry for not being the brother he deserved. Sorry for the years he spent in Mexico. Sorry for not considering other options and believing the only way to keep him safe had been to fake his death. James had lost so much because of him.

James gave him a small nod, understanding pooling in his eyes. “Me too.”

The vehicle took a wide turn, aiming straight for them. It stopped abruptly behind Cammy’s old truck. A door opened, the driver got out, and Thomas’s blood thundered in his ears at the sight of Fernando. He rounded the front of the black SUV in anunzipped green windbreaker worn over all black. Black pants, black shirt, black sneakers.

“¡Mis hijos! ¡Papá ha vuelto!” Fernando stretched his arms wide, his voice booming. Cesar remained emotionless, his eyes cold. Salvador beamed, his joy over his father’s arrival plastered on his face.

“Bienvenido de nuevo, papá.”

“I’ve missed you.” Fernando switched to English. Thick mustached, thinning hair, belly hanging over a tightly cinched leather belt, the escaped felon had only smiles for his sons. If Thomas wasn’t so intent on getting his sights on his mother, he’d throw up in disgust. The casualness of their reunion—as if they were meeting for dinner instead of an execution—made his skin crawl.

Salvador threw out his arms, waving the gun, his gestures as exaggerated as his father’s. “We’re here to rescue you! Your plan played outmuy bien.” He kissed his fingertips and flared his fingers. Chef’s kiss.

Cesar looked at his watch. “Hurry up.” His tone was all business.

“Always impatient, that one.” Fernando smiled at Thomas and James. He opened the rear passenger door, reached in, and yanked out Claire.

“Jesus,” James said.

Someone had worked her over. Her silver hair, usually tied behind her head in a simple twist or clasped in a long, straight ponytail, was disheveled. A noticeable bald spot was on the side of her head, dried blood crusted around the edges as if someone had pulled out her hair. Her face was bruised, the left eye swollen shut, her bottom lip engorged. Hands bound with zip ties at the wrists in front of her. The light blue silk blouse she wore was torn and smudged with dirt, as were her cream pants.She was barefoot. Fernando yanked hard on her arm and she stumbled as he hauled her toward the group.

Her gaze swung vacantly past Thomas and back. “Thomas.” A hoarse whisper.

“Mom.” His throat closed. The sight of her—proud, elegant Claire Donato—reduced to a broken shell twisted something in his chest that would never be right again.

“Take it easy on her.” James stepped toward their mother and Salvador yanked him back by the collar of his shirt. James swung, but Salvador easily dodged him.

“James, stop,” Thomas hissed. He shook his head when James glared at him. Salvador was already unhinged. Last thing they needed was for James to give him a reason to shoot him.

James blew out a breath of frustrated rage. Fernando kept a tight grip on Claire’s arm. Thomas tried to get her attention, just an eye lock so he could measure her frame of mind. But she stared vacantly past them, disassociated.

The metallic taste of fury coated his tongue at the unspeakable pain she must have endured the past few days. “What did you do to her?”

“He said, shut up.” Salvador lifted the gun and fired just as Fernando thrust Claire at James. White hot pain tore through Thomas’s arm. He bellowed and Claire screamed. James almost fell with their mother in his arms as she tried to reach for Thomas. Both of their expressions horrified.

“Tom!” James yelled. He muttered something that sounded like “sand” under his breath.

“I’m okay. Just a graze,” he downplayed. He gritted his teeth as warm blood seeped down his arm. He clamped a hand over the wound to staunch the flow. He didn’t think the bullet hit an artery, but he didn’t have to look down at his arm to know it had gone through his triceps. “Let them go and you can do whatever you want with me.”

“No!” Claire shrieked.

James pushed his face into her hair, begging her to shush.

Fernando joyously hugged both sons and turned to them, looking first at James, who had his arms around Claire, holding her up. He then looked at Thomas.

“Lo siento, no.”

“Everything is negotiable,” Thomas pushed.

“Not when your life is worthless,” Cesar said.

“Then why did you bring us here?” he demanded.

“Don’t expect a villain monologue from that one.” Fernando winked at Thomas, throwing a hand in Cesar’s direction. “He’s a man of little words. Straight to business.”