The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 217

Inside the black gunship, the commander heard a calm, sharp voice over the headset. “There’s only one ship?”

“There are two more, three nautical miles out.”

The real game was probably happening on those two ships. Abbot wouldn’t have shown up here without backup.

“But you can relax, Franco. Even if things get messy—”

Franco spotted a figure slipping downstairs out of the corner of his eye. He remembered her from the other night, when she’d been held hostage, her eyes empty, lost to the wind.

He cut the man off, his tone cold. “There’s no need for a fight. Abbot is playing the gracious host. It would be rude not to meet him. Let them in.”

Harris had already explained what really happened with Petty. Felton was the one who’d had her taken.

And Felton just happened to find Abbot’s informant among the mercenaries. The boat that met the yacht last night—Abbot’s people were behind it.

Franco walked to the stairs, grabbed Petty’s coat hood, and gently tugged her back upstairs as he passed by. “Stay up here.”

Outside, Abbot stepped out of his helicopter. His men trailed behind, carrying fancy food boxes.

Abbot laughed warmly. “Franco, you’ve come all this way. I’m sorry for my late welcome. Hope you’re not offended.”

Petty hovered on the second-floor landing. From here, she could hear Franco’s signature, cool reply. “You’re too polite, Abbot.”

She looked down and saw Franco sitting in the only chair that wasn’t broken. He looked completely at ease, self-assured and born for command, his energy enough to leave Abbot—who was a few years older—feeling outmatched.

“If you’re heading out, I won’t keep you. Next time you’re around, I have to give you the proper welcome.”

On the landing, Petty curled her fingers into a tight fist. Light spilled through the window, warming her cheek. For a second, she felt like her heart had gone numb.

She looked over at the bedroom, her chest heavy, like she was carrying a stone inside.

Before leaving, Abbot glanced up at the staircase. He let out a silent, cold laugh.

When his helicopter lifted off, Abbot looked over at a white civilian chopper flying closer. “Who’s that?”

One of his men pulled out binoculars and tracked the new arrival. After a few seconds, he reported, “It’s Hans, from the Green family in Cabinda.”