French flashed the sketch at Remy. Their eyes locked with silent communication.

"Your son?" French asked the man again.

The man wiped the tears from his eyes. "No. No son. Son gone!" He stepped closer to French, his face filled with grief as he pointed to the portrait. "Venom! Venom take son!"

If Remy hadn't been sitting down, the revelation would have knocked him flat.

The man took the notebook and flipped a page. "Here. Venom here."

French glanced from the book to Remy. "We found what we were looking for."

"This is a mistake," Remy said, refusing to believe. "He must be confused."

"There's only one way to find out."

The man shoved the book at Remy. "Find. Find son."

Remy nodded and accepted the book. "Find son," he agreed. Remy swallowed, holding his stomach back.

Chapter 14.

Ava rested on the floor for a good hour, keeping her leg propped on the chair. She didn't think it was broken, but it might be bruised at the very least. What she needed was a splint to help keep it secure for a bit. Unfortunately, there was no one to aid her. While she had heard murmurs and shuffling in the hall, no one came to check on her.

Well, she wasn't going to lie on the cold hard floor and wait for help. There was a forest right outside. She could use a couple of branches to make a crude splint. After that, she had no idea what to do. It wasn't as if she could go far. But, she'd sort that out later.

Easing her leg down off the chair, Ava twisted to flop onto her belly. She pushed up and grasped the chair. With strength that was slowly returning to her, she lifted herself up and sat on the chair. Giving herself a moment or two, she took a breath before continuing. Ava held the back of the chair and lifted herself into a standing position, keeping the weight on her good leg.

Here goes nothing, she thought, taking a trial step. She cried out as she crashed to the ground, jagged pain stabbing at her.

Ava cursed, letting the explicative carry some of her agony.

It seemed her leg was truly broken after all.

And she was stuck in h.e.l.l.

David knocked on Jared Boyer's door. Boyer's truck was in the driveway, so he had to be home. It was crucial that David speak with him. Greyson had contacted his Turkish connection and paid a steep sum for information leading to Venom. With Boyer's help, David could be overseas in a matter of hours with a team standing by.

Remy was in over his head, and it was David's fault. He should've told Remy the truth when he had the chance. But there never seemed to be a good time, and then it was finally so buried in the past that it remained that way. David didn't have the heart to drag Remy back to that painful time.

G.o.d, when he had found Remy, wandering the desert, barely alive and out of his mind, David thought he might've been too late. Remy was covered in slashes and burns, which David promptly found were of his own making. The drugs coursing through his system were psychotics, fueling Remy with enemy visions. The only enemy present was Remy, spurred by a series of injections that ran up his arm like a train track.

David pounded on the door again. "Boyer! Open up!"

The door cracked open. "What?"

"I need your help."

"I was just on my way out. I got an urgent call."

"This is more urgent," David said, pushing the door open. "It's about Remy."

Boyer stepped back and allowed David to enter. "What's this about? I have a plane to catch."

"Ava has Remy. I think she's working for Venom. I can't get in touch, and I know something is wrong."

"What do you know about Venom?" Boyer asked, becoming more interested.

"I got information from a Turkish connection. He said Venom has a weapons ring and that he's dangerous. Crazy dangerous."

"How so?"

"You're going to think this insane, but he's experimenting on people with psychotic drugs."

"To what purpose?"

David rubbed the back of his neck and took a long breath. "This is where it gets even more bizarre. According to the Turkish connection, Venom is trying to make human weapons. And I believe it," David quickly added. "Ava must have pumped Remy with the drugs before the attack. When I found him weeks later, he was out of his mind with a trail of injection scars. He was fighting a war with himself."

Boyer looked thoughtful for a moment. "What did you do when you found him?"

"I brought him to an abandoned shelter, restrained him, and let the drugs wear off."

"And then he was okay? Were there any side effects?"

"He seemed fine, if not a little confused. To this day he thinks he was in an enemy prison."

"And you didn't correct him?"

David shook his head. "I should have, but I thought I was protecting him."

"Protecting him from what?"

"Himself."

Ava propelled her way down the corridor using only her forearms and elbows, dragging her legs behind. She fought to control the pain as she maneuvered out into the open without cover or defense. She refused to linger in the holding room until someone decided she was no longer worth the ransom. Remy trained her never to quit.

"Never quit, never stop, and never let the enemy have the last say," he told her.

That was all well and good when you had working parts, she scoffed. But Ava continued anyway. It was as if he was with her, being obnoxiously encouraging.

She loved that about him. According to Remy, no one was weak. Broken bones meant nothing to him.

She wished he was with her now.

"Going somewhere?"

American accent?

Ava looked back to find Hollywood standing behind her, his arms crossed. "Screw you," she said, continuing on her path.

With a few quick steps he was in front of her, blocking her. "Where do you think you're going?"

She paused to take a breath. "To find a couple of sticks." With a grunt, she continued, plowing past him. She had to look ridiculous, she knew, but she wasn't going to stop.

He stepped in front of her again. "I could do this all day," he said dryly.

Ava looked into his eyes. "Either shoot me or get the h.e.l.l out of my way."

He twisted his mouth, then moved to the side and allowed her to continue. Ava could feel his hovering presence as she made her way to the exit. She was sure he was going to try to stop her again when she finally made it to the door. Looking up at the doork.n.o.b high above her head, Ava now understood why he didn't bother stopping her.

From her position on the ground, the k.n.o.b looked as if it was ten-feet high. Reaching up, her fingers grazed it. She just needed to lift herself a couple of inches. A couple of brutal inches. If the socialite weren't behind her, she would cry.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"Go to h.e.l.l!" Ava pushed up and grasped the handle, turning to open the door.

"I'm already here," he muttered, holding the door for Ava.

After Ava cleared the door, she stopped to take a break.

"Would you like help now?" he asked.

Ava glanced up at him. "I don't need help from a terrorist."

"I'm not," he said simply.

"You could've fooled me," she said.

"Do I look like a terrorist?" he asked. "I can barely shoot straight."

"Then why are you aiding these men?"

He laughed. "Because my cousin, Natan, talked me into it. Although I think he tricked me, but I can't prove it-nor would he let me."

Ava groaned. "If I ever get up, I'm going to kick his a.s.s."

"I'd like to see you try," Natan's voice boomed from behind. "What is she doing out here?"

"I believe she's escaping," Hollywood said.

"And you were going to let her?" Natan asked, his brow creased.

"No, just making sure she was okay."

"It's not your job to help her, Mikael."

"I don't see anyone else doing it."

Ava relaxed as the men argued. If Natan was going to haul her back inside, she would save her strength. Although, he looked like he was in as rough shape as she felt.

"Go and help with Toma. He'll wake up any moment now."

"What about her," Mikael asked, nodding at Ava.

"I'll deal with her."

"You won't kill her," he stated, but it seemed more like a question. When Natan didn't respond, Mikael sighed. "Just remember who the real enemy is." Mikael headed inside, leaving Ava alone with Natan.

"I gave your cousin the option of shooting or getting out of my way. I give you the same," Ava said, gauging Natan. He didn't budge, nor did he fire a shot at her. He stood there looking as if he was in deep contemplation. Again, Ava waited, conserving her strength. If Natan decided to make a move, he'd catch her within a few steps.

"You said you could help," he finally said, the words choppy as if he had to force them out.

"That was before you broke my leg," Ava snipped.

Natan glanced at her leg, raking his hand through his dark hair, gripping it as if he wanted to tear it out. Leaning down, he touched her leg. "Where is it broken?"

"Near the ankle," Ava replied. She wanted to tell him to b.u.g.g.e.r off, but pain and broken bones had her nearly begging for help. She wouldn't beg.

Gently rolling the hem, he inspected. "Does this hurt?" He pressed down above her ankle.

Ava squeezed her eyes shut. "Not at all," she ground out.

He laughed. It was mirthful and unexpected. Ava glared at him.

"Can we call a temporary truce?" he asked. "Let me at least set your leg so it heals properly."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like seeing anyone in pain."

"Then you're in the wrong business."

"You helped me before with Toma. Let me help you."

Ava nodded. It was the best offer she'd receive. "Temporary truce."

He called out, and within seconds, one of the guards came in and plucked her up off the ground. Tears sprung up as the movement tweaked her leg.

"Sorry," Natan said. "I didn't tell him to be gentle."