Keep Me
Page 39
My fear of losing her is starting to border on the pathological. I recognize that, but I don’t know how to control it. It’s a sickness that seems to have no cure. I worry about Nora constantly, obsessively. I want to know where she is at every moment of every day. She’s rarely out of my sight, but when she is, I can’t concentrate, my mind conjuring up deadly accidents that could befall her and other frightening scenarios.
“I want you to put two guards on Nora,” I tell Lucas one morning. “I want them to tail her whenever she walks around the estate, so they can make sure nothing happens to her.”
“All right.” Lucas doesn’t blink at my unusual request. “I’ll work with Peter to free up two of our best men.”
“Good. And I want them to text me a report on her every hour on the dot.”
“Consider it done.”
The guards’ hourly reports keep my fears at bay for a couple of weeks—until I get an email that turns my world upside down.
* * *
“Majid is alive,” I tell Nora at dinner, carefully watching her reaction. “I just heard from one of Peter’s contacts in Moscow. He’s been spotted in Tajikistan.”
Her eyes widen in shock and dismay. “What? But he died in the explosion!”
“No, unfortunately he didn’t.” I do my best to keep my rage under control. The fact that Beth’s murderer is alive makes my blood boil with pure acid. “It turns out he and four others left the warehouse two hours before I got there. You didn’t see him there when I came for you, right?”
“No, I didn’t.” Nora frowns. “I assumed he was outside, guarding the building or something . . .”
“That’s what I thought, too. But he wasn’t. He was nowhere near the warehouse when the explosion occurred.”
“How do you know this?”
“The Russians captured one of the four men who left with Majid that night. They caught him in Moscow, plotting to blow up the subway.” Despite my best efforts, fury seeps into my voice, and I can see the corresponding tension in Nora. If there’s any topic that can move my pet to anger, it’s that of Beth’s murderers. “They interrogated him and learned that he’s been in hiding in Eastern Europe and Central Asia for the past few months, along with Majid and the two others.”
Before Nora can respond, Ana walks into the dining room.
“Would you like some dessert?” the housekeeper asks us, and Nora shakes her head, her soft mouth drawn in a tight line.
“None for me, thanks,” I say curtly, and Ana disappears, leaving us alone once again.
“So what now?” Nora asks. “Are you going to track him down?”
“Yes.” And when I do, I’m going to take him apart, one piece of flesh and bone at a time—but I don’t tell Nora that. Instead I explain, “His cohort admitted to last seeing Majid in Tajikistan, so that’s where we’ll start our search. Apparently, he’s managed to gather a sizable group of new followers in the last few months, injecting fresh blood into Al-Quadar.”
That last tidbit worries me quite a bit. Though we’ve done serious damage to the terrorist group over the past couple of months, the Al-Quadar organization is so spread out that there could still be a dozen functional cells throughout the world. Combined with the new recruits, these cells could be just powerful enough to be dangerous—and, according to the intelligence Peter got from his contacts, Majid is getting ready for something big . . . something in Latin America.
He’s preparing to strike back at me.
He won’t penetrate the security of the estate, of course, but just the possibility of these motherfuckers coming within a hundred miles of Nora makes me livid with rage and awakens the fear that I can’t quite shake.
The stark, irrational fear of losing her.
There are two-hundred-plus highly trained men guarding the compound and dozens of military-grade drones sweeping the area. Nobody can touch her here, but that doesn’t change the way I feel, doesn’t quell the primitive panic gnawing at my insides. All I want to do is grab Nora and carry her as far away as possible, to a place where no one will ever find her . . . where she will be mine and mine alone.
But there is no place like that anymore. My enemies know about her, and they know that she’s important to me. I’ve proven that by coming after her before. If they still want the explosive—and I am certain that they do—they will try to get her, again and again, until they are completely wiped out.
Overkill or not, given this new information, I need to take additional precautions to ensure Nora’s safety.
I need to make sure I always have a connection to her.
“What are you thinking?” Nora asks, a concerned expression on her face, and I realize that I’ve been staring at her for a couple of minutes without saying anything.
I force myself to smile. “Nothing much, my pet. I just want to make sure you’re safe, that’s all.”
“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” She looks more puzzled than worried.
“Because there is a rumor Majid may be planning something in Latin America,” I explain as calmly as I can. I don’t want to frighten her, but I do want her to understand why I have to take these precautions.
Why I have to do what I’m about to do to her.
“You think they’re coming here?” Her face pales a bit, but her voice remains steady. “You think they’re going to try to attack the estate?”
“I want you to put two guards on Nora,” I tell Lucas one morning. “I want them to tail her whenever she walks around the estate, so they can make sure nothing happens to her.”
“All right.” Lucas doesn’t blink at my unusual request. “I’ll work with Peter to free up two of our best men.”
“Good. And I want them to text me a report on her every hour on the dot.”
“Consider it done.”
The guards’ hourly reports keep my fears at bay for a couple of weeks—until I get an email that turns my world upside down.
* * *
“Majid is alive,” I tell Nora at dinner, carefully watching her reaction. “I just heard from one of Peter’s contacts in Moscow. He’s been spotted in Tajikistan.”
Her eyes widen in shock and dismay. “What? But he died in the explosion!”
“No, unfortunately he didn’t.” I do my best to keep my rage under control. The fact that Beth’s murderer is alive makes my blood boil with pure acid. “It turns out he and four others left the warehouse two hours before I got there. You didn’t see him there when I came for you, right?”
“No, I didn’t.” Nora frowns. “I assumed he was outside, guarding the building or something . . .”
“That’s what I thought, too. But he wasn’t. He was nowhere near the warehouse when the explosion occurred.”
“How do you know this?”
“The Russians captured one of the four men who left with Majid that night. They caught him in Moscow, plotting to blow up the subway.” Despite my best efforts, fury seeps into my voice, and I can see the corresponding tension in Nora. If there’s any topic that can move my pet to anger, it’s that of Beth’s murderers. “They interrogated him and learned that he’s been in hiding in Eastern Europe and Central Asia for the past few months, along with Majid and the two others.”
Before Nora can respond, Ana walks into the dining room.
“Would you like some dessert?” the housekeeper asks us, and Nora shakes her head, her soft mouth drawn in a tight line.
“None for me, thanks,” I say curtly, and Ana disappears, leaving us alone once again.
“So what now?” Nora asks. “Are you going to track him down?”
“Yes.” And when I do, I’m going to take him apart, one piece of flesh and bone at a time—but I don’t tell Nora that. Instead I explain, “His cohort admitted to last seeing Majid in Tajikistan, so that’s where we’ll start our search. Apparently, he’s managed to gather a sizable group of new followers in the last few months, injecting fresh blood into Al-Quadar.”
That last tidbit worries me quite a bit. Though we’ve done serious damage to the terrorist group over the past couple of months, the Al-Quadar organization is so spread out that there could still be a dozen functional cells throughout the world. Combined with the new recruits, these cells could be just powerful enough to be dangerous—and, according to the intelligence Peter got from his contacts, Majid is getting ready for something big . . . something in Latin America.
He’s preparing to strike back at me.
He won’t penetrate the security of the estate, of course, but just the possibility of these motherfuckers coming within a hundred miles of Nora makes me livid with rage and awakens the fear that I can’t quite shake.
The stark, irrational fear of losing her.
There are two-hundred-plus highly trained men guarding the compound and dozens of military-grade drones sweeping the area. Nobody can touch her here, but that doesn’t change the way I feel, doesn’t quell the primitive panic gnawing at my insides. All I want to do is grab Nora and carry her as far away as possible, to a place where no one will ever find her . . . where she will be mine and mine alone.
But there is no place like that anymore. My enemies know about her, and they know that she’s important to me. I’ve proven that by coming after her before. If they still want the explosive—and I am certain that they do—they will try to get her, again and again, until they are completely wiped out.
Overkill or not, given this new information, I need to take additional precautions to ensure Nora’s safety.
I need to make sure I always have a connection to her.
“What are you thinking?” Nora asks, a concerned expression on her face, and I realize that I’ve been staring at her for a couple of minutes without saying anything.
I force myself to smile. “Nothing much, my pet. I just want to make sure you’re safe, that’s all.”
“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” She looks more puzzled than worried.
“Because there is a rumor Majid may be planning something in Latin America,” I explain as calmly as I can. I don’t want to frighten her, but I do want her to understand why I have to take these precautions.
Why I have to do what I’m about to do to her.
“You think they’re coming here?” Her face pales a bit, but her voice remains steady. “You think they’re going to try to attack the estate?”
