38. Rafe

38

RAFE

I sat in the den, my head hung as I sipped my whiskey. Zavala had gone to take care of business and left me in his den. I knew it was a test, and kept my curiosity at bay. I couldn't afford to fuck anything up right now. I knew I was being watched every second of the day.

After downing the last of my whiskey, I set the glass on the side table. I had no fucking idea what to do or how long any of this would take. All I could think about was the pain Isabelle was in and that I had caused it. I hoped it would save her life. If it didn't, the decision to be so violent with her would haunt me forever.

"Mr. Zavala requested that you return to your room."

I cocked my head at the guard who had taken Isabelle away. I wanted to ask how she was doing, but that would only betray my true intentions. I would have to be content with knowing I had injured her enough to need a hospital.

I stood and walked past the guard toward my room. We were in the hallway when I heard his low voice right behind me.

"Isabelle said to tell you Max."

I frowned slightly. "What?"

"Max. That's all she said."

Max was the pilot for OPS. He practically lived in the Caribbean after he got out of the military, but she couldn't possibly be talking about him. How the hell would she even know him?

I kept my gaze straight ahead as we moved down the hall. "Has she had any calls recently?"

"She talks to her mother once a week. That call happened yesterday."

It was a message from Cash. It had to be. Was he sending in a rescue party? I hoped to God he had a good fucking plan because if he didn't, he would get us all killed. I wanted to ask more questions, but I wasn't sure where this man's alliances lay. But if he was an ally, I couldn't afford to not talk to him. He was sending me a message from Isabelle. That had to mean he was on her side, even if only when the opportunity struck.

It was a risk I had to take. "How is Isabelle?"

"Do you care?"

I didn't dare turn to look at him, speaking only under my breath. "Does she need a hospital?"

"The doctor isn't here. I have no way to help her. I gave her some pain pills, but they'll only do so much. She has a high fever."

"That's because I was trying to rupture her appendix."

"You did it on purpose?" There was a hint of pride in his question, along with incredulity.

"When the time comes, make sure I'm in the room with Zavala."

"What?"

"You'll know what I'm talking about," I said as I reached my door. "Vomiting and extreme abdominal pain. Don't wait too long or she'll die."

And with that, I opened my door and walked inside. I leaned back against the door, then rushed over to the bathroom and slammed the door right before emptying the contents of my stomach in the toilet. I'd never once been affected by my actions toward others. They were for the greater good and that always took precedence over everything else. But I was in the final stages of my plan. Isabelle was all that mattered, and I'd just put her life in jeopardy to end this game we were playing. I couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

I flushed the toilet and bent over the sink, letting the cold water run. After splashing water on my face, I let the water drip from the tip of my nose and swirl down the drain. The sickening realization that I might have killed my sister almost had me racing for the toilet again, but I shoved it down and forced myself to take deep breaths.

There was only one thing I wanted right now and that was Libby. I needed to feel her in my arms and know that she was safe. I needed her calming presence to steel me for what was to come. But there was no way to contact her—no way to let her know I was thinking of her.

"Libby," I whispered, closing my eyes. I drew the best memories of us to the front of my mind, allowing them to calm me. Our lives were so tangled with work and taking down The Syndicate that there had never really been a time for just us. I had sacrificed our lives together for this single mission. She just didn't know it.

What I put her through was unfair. It didn't matter that she always stood by my side through anything or if she stayed with me despite knowing she was always in the dark. What kind of life had I given her? And now it was all drawing to a close. I needed this day as much as I dreaded it. Once it was finally over, our lives would return to normal.

Her life.

I prayed she was able to move on and forget about the insanity of what her life had become. She was so strong, but what I desired for her more than anything was a normal life filled with love and family—something I could never give her.

She didn't realize it yet, but I saw the longing in her eyes when she looked at my brother with his kids. She told herself that she didn't want to settle down, but I knew better. She would never get that chance with me, but someday when she was ready, she would have every opportunity that I could never give her.

I made sure of it.

My chest ached with every minute that I thought of her. I rubbed at the pain, hoping to lessen it to some degree, but nothing helped. She was the love of my life and I would only break her heart. Even if I survived this, I wasn't sure she would want me when this was over. I was no good for her—always worried about my own work above anything else. Everything else ranked lower than this job, and that included her.

It was a shitty way for any wife to live, yet she accepted it. She breathed it and lived it as if it was her way of life also. But she would tire of the constant danger and want to break free. It was only a matter of time.

I snatched the hand towel off the wall and wiped the water from my face. The time for self-pity was over. I had a job to finish. I had to make sure Isabelle got off this island, and I needed to end Zavala once and for all.

A swift knock at the door had me rushing over. When I yanked it open, the guard from before was staring at me in panic.

"What is it?"

"Isabelle…"

"Is Zavala with her?"

He nodded. "We don't have a doctor and the air ambulance is busted."

It was my shot. "Take me to him."

"How am I going to explain?—"

"Don't worry about it. Let me handle it."

I followed him down the hall to Isabelle's room. Zavala was sitting on her bed, looking every bit the doting husband, but I knew better. "What's going on?"

He turned on me, the scathing look on his face nearly taking me back a step. "What the fuck did you do?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Were you trying to fucking kill her? She's got a fever! She's barely fucking conscious and she's in pain!"

I shrugged. "So, call for the doctor."

"I did! She's not here!"

I rolled my eyes, pretending I was annoyed by the situation. "You wanted this."

He raced over to me, slamming his fist into my face. "You will pay for this!" he hissed. "Something's wrong."

"That's what you wanted," I reminded him. "You told me to show you. And I did."

His nostrils flared at my words as his rage got the better of him. "I need a fucking air ambulance right now. If she dies, this is on you. Do you understand me?"

I yanked his hands from my shirt, stepping back. "Relax. I know a guy. He's an island jumper and flies anyone anywhere. But he'll cost you."

"Does it look like I fucking care?"

"Fine. But we'll have to get medics. He only flies."

He was so fucking torn up that he didn't even question me. He was playing right into my hands.

"Zavala, I need a phone."

He snapped his fingers and the guard handed it over, nodding slightly as he gave it to me. I called Cash immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Max, I have a job for you."

"Thank fuck," he hissed.

"You'll have to gather a medical team. I'll pay you double if you can get out here within the hour."

"It'll be tight."

"Just do it," I snapped.

"I'm going with," Zavala said, glaring at me.

"Yeah, and clear the way for one passenger. If you fuck this up, your head is on the chopping block. I'll send you the coordinates."

I hung up and shrugged. "Done. I just need you to let him know where to go."

Zavala stared at me for a moment, then took the phone and punched in the coordinates. So far, it was smooth sailing, and that's usually when everything went to hell. I wasn't sure Zavala would let me off the island, and there was still the problem of Raven being here. I would give anything to get Isabelle off the island, but they would kill me if I left Raven behind.

He stepped into my space and gripped my arm in his. "If she dies, I'll hold you personally responsible."

I nodded.

"Take him to the basement," he snapped at the guard.

I knew this might happen. There was never any assurance I would make it off this island. But knowing Isabelle would be safe was enough for now. The guard jerked me by the arm, taking me away from Zavala and Isabelle. I caught a glimpse of her laying on the bed in pain—barely conscious—and prayed that wasn't the last image I had of her in my head.

The guard took me downstairs and opened the cell, leaning in close as he slammed the door. "Sorry about this."

"I figured it would happen."

"Who is she to you?"

"You already know that."

"But…why?"

It wasn't a hard question to answer. "Because she's family, and I would do anything to save her life."

"Even give your own?"

"Anything," I responded, then turned and walked over to the wall and sank to the floor.