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My legs gave out on me, and I caught the nearest seat on my way to my knees, trying to slow the fall. “He left me. He said he’d never leave me.”
Mason crouched before me, keeping his hands off me, as I broke down into a spluttering mess of snot and tears.
“He’s out of it. Not thinking clearly. He didn’t leave you. Us,” Gwen Montgomery piped up from the seat I was still holding on to.
I looked at her as she worked on her laptop, her focus solidly on the screen as she tried to track him down in the city. Gwen’s father was a Navy SEAL who worked directly for the President, and her uncle, Grayson Chandler, co-ran Falcon with Carter. She worked with us from time to time. She was a skilled cyber expert, and the one who’d created Oliver’s alias, JJJ. If anyone could find him in this city on the cameras, it was her.
But if she couldn’t, what would that mean?
There was only so much the rest of the team could do walking and driving around the city searching for Oliver at night.
Now that I was a wanted fugitive, I couldn’t join them in the hunt. I hated being on that plane. Helpless. Lost to my thoughts. To the painful memories of what had happened that morning.
“If Oliver’s so out of it, then how’s he managing to avoid being seen on the CCTV footage you’ve been checking?” I whispered, my voice too raw to speak any louder.
Gwen looked over at me, her fingers going still on the keys. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing since he has the authorities and the Sorens, aka The Collective, after him?”
“But that still means he wanted to get away from me.” The implication hit me hard, rocking me back like a punch to the gut. Releasing the seat, I sat on my heels.
“I’m going to rub your back.” Sydney gave me a heads-up so I didn’t startle in my fragile state. Helpless and hopeless.
“I can’t lose him,” I cried as she smoothed her hand in a circle at the small of my back, soothing me like she would for a simple case of heartburn. Except this was much more like heartache. “He needs me. He shouldn’t be out there alone. It’s not safe.” For so many reasons. “He may not even know his face is on the news yet.”
“He has no money on him, right? He can’t go far. Maybe he’s on his way to the airport now, and he’ll show up here soon, ready to go.” Gwen’s optimism was fake. I could hear it in her tone that she was only trying to keep me calm so I didn’t snap, recognizing my state was brittle. Hell, already broken.
“He, uh, does have money.” Mason’s announcement had me opening my eyes, looking up at him to elaborate. “I set a bag of his things in his room when we arrived. We all keep go-bags on the jet at all times, just in case. Clothes, weapons, burner phone, multiple passports, and cash inside.” He scratched his stubbled jaw. “I took the weapon out, but before we got off the jet to come to the hospital, he asked me to bring it.”
So, he’d not only been conscious without me knowing about it on the jet, but he’d spoken, too? What the hell?
“You didn’t think that was a little suspicious?” Sydney asked him, voicing my own worried thoughts.
“Well, I fucking do now.” Mason shook his head in apology. “But the idea of Oliver splitting never crossed my mind.”
“I’ll pull up a list of the possible aliases he has,” Gwen said, typing again. “I’ll track him that way. If he rents a car, or takes a flight or train, I’ll get his final destination.”
“Oliver’s too smart to be tracked.” My shoulders fell. “If he doesn’t want to be found . . .” I was going to be sick.
Trying to distract myself, my brain took a brief detour to the reason we were in this mess in the first place.
“Where’s Hugo? Do we know if he was even in Thailand yesterday morning?” What’d I do to get him not to trust me?
If only I hadn’t opened my mouth while we’d been walking yesterday, then maybe we would’ve had the meeting as planned.
A fresh wave of guilt burned an ugly path through me, incinerating any last rational thought.
“I don’t know if he was ever in Bangkok or not. Surely a man like him flies private, and he could easily manipulate and cover his tracks the way Carter does in regard to his whereabouts,” Gwen shared. “If Hugo was there, he must’ve suspected something was up prior to the meeting, and he, uh . . .”
“Confirmed it by eavesdropping on our conversation on the way,” I finished for her. “Then canceled.”
“Not your fault,” Sydney piped up, reading my thoughts.
“The Collective is always one step ahead of us.” I covered my face with my trembling hands. “More like three, since the Sorens had Interpol agents and police on standby to intercept us before they’d even eavesdropped on our conversation.” I swallowed. “This is all my?—”
“Nope,” Sydney cut me off. “We’re not doing that. Not today or any other day.”
I appreciated Sydney’s efforts, but no amount of comforting would help. Not with Oliver out there all alone and those responsible for what happened free to live their lives and play with others as if they were just characters in some game.
I reached for Gwen’s seat again, testing my legs like I was Ariel in The Little Mermaid, walking for the first time.
