Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
She sucks in a quivering breath, and keeping her head bowed, she whispers, “Will I ever go home again?”
“Of course. Once you’ve healed and you’re better, we can travel to Ireland.”
Her head snaps up, and hope fills her eyes.
Seeing as we’re finally talking, I ask, “Do you have family in Ireland?”
Instantly, the hope vanishes, then she shakes her head. “No family. My father is dead.”
She wraps her arms around her middle in a defensive move, which tells me she’s not being completely honest.
Knowing I’m pushing my luck, I ask, “Who held you captive?”
Her chin quivers, and her shoulders curve forward as if she’s trying to make herself a smaller target. “Nolan.”
“A man?” I check to make sure.
She nods.
Now, I know not to waste time looking for a woman.
But my men didn’t find a man. The house by the trees was empty when they searched it. They found a chain bolted to a wall, but that’s all. The fucker must’ve made a run for it right after Ciara escaped.
My tone remains gentle as I continue with the questions. “Do you know for how long you were held captive?”
“I think nine months.”
I already know the answer, but still, I ask, “Was he sick with the flu? Is that how you managed to get away from him?”
When she nods, I close my eyes for a moment.
I had the fucker in my sights.
Pulling out my phone, I type a message for Pedro.
Santiago: The fucker who held Ciara captive is blonde/ginger. Freckles all over his face. Estimated 5.9ft. Probably mid-thirties. He drove a blue Ford Fiesta.
“Can you tell me more about him? His last name?” I ask
She turns her head slightly to me, then whispers, “Why?”
I contemplate lying to soften the blow, but decide against it and reply honestly, “So I can kill him to make sure you never cross paths with him again.”
Silence follows my words for a long while before she looks at me. I meet her gaze, and it feels like she’s trying to figure out if she can trust me with the information.
“Walsh.”
Santiago: Nolan Walsh. I want him brought to me alive.
Pedro: Notifying the team a.s.a.p
As I tuck the phone back into my pocket, I smile at Ciara. “Thank you, mi pequeño sol.” Her eyes narrow slightly, and it has me translating, “It means my little sunshine.”
Confusion flits over her features, but she keeps quiet.
Once again, silence falls between us, and while she stares at the lone tree on the hill, I take in every inch of her.
She looks healthier, and there’s color in her face.
One win at a time.
Chapter 13
SANTIAGO
After tucking Ciara into bed, I head back downstairs, where Pedro’s waiting in the living room.
“How is she doing?” he asks.
I gesture at a couch while dropping down on the other one. “Today was a good day. She’s starting to talk.”
“That’s good. I’ve sent Jorge and four other men to join the others so they can help search for Nolan Walsh. I was able to get more information on him.” Pedro takes a seat and locks eyes with me. “He’s thirty-three. He’s been married once, but the wife died in a car accident. The house he kept Ciara in belongs to Ian O’Connell. We’re looking for him as well.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I nod.
“Walsh hasn’t paid his taxes for two years, so there’s no work history. He has a father who lives in the UK. I’m keeping an eye on him in case Nolan turns up at his place.”
I think for a moment, then say, “Should we do a search on Ciara?”
Pedro shrugs. “Just give me a photo of her, and I’ll find out everything I can.”
I lift my hand to my face and rub my fingers over my jaw. “I’ll see if she opens up more during the next few days.”
“What do you want to do about Bolivia? It’s been two and a half weeks.”
“I know,” I mutter. “Give me three days to get Ciara settled, then we can leave to shut down that fucking club.”
“I’ll get everything ready for Tuesday.”
Nodding, I let out a sigh.
“Anything else?” Pedro asks. When I shake my head, he asks, “How are you holding up?”
I begin to twirl the diamond ring on my finger, and glancing down at it, I realize I’ll have to get it sized smaller to fit Ciara.
“Santiago?” Pedro says to get my attention.
“It’s hard,” I admit before lifting my eyes to his. “All I want to do is hold her. Comfort her.”
“She’ll get better,” he murmurs. “But take time for yourself as well. You haven’t watched a sunrise since you found her.”
“I don’t need to. She’s my sunrise.”
A worried expression tightens his features. “Are you sure?” When I nod, he asks, “How do you know she’s the one for you, Santiago?”
I lift my hand and pat the area over my heart. “I can feel it. Every day, she burrows in deeper.”