Lost Too Much

LOST TOO MUCH Chapter 31

Casa De Franchis — Two days earlier

Callen led Bronte down to the yacht for one last sail. It was sad to leave, but they missed their boys. He rowed the small boat to the yacht and helped Bronte onboard. "Me lady." He smirked, he loved spending every moment with her.

"Why, thank you, sire." Bronte put on a British accent for the little game they now played while he assisted her onboard their yacht one last time. She gave him a warm smile, he kissed her firmly on the lips and held her close.

"Let's get the sails up." She went to help him but he shook his head, "it's okay, I can do it."

"You're being stubborn, G. I'm pregnant, not an invalid. Move over." She did as she had done everyday for the past two weeks and raised the sails. She revelled in the moment she hitched the sails up and the wind caught in them. There was something about the wind blowing through your hair and onto your face. Salt water splattered up onto the yacht, refreshing their warm bodies from the heat of the sun. They had barely gone a quarter of a mile, when a rumbling sound caught their attention. Callen turned and his face paled.

"What was that?" All colour left Bronte's face when she saw the villa with smoke billowing out. "G?" Fear replaced the peace in her eyes.

"It's not our villa, Bron. But we need to go back, grab our things incase it was meant for us."

"No. We can't."

"We have to." He turned the wheel around, the rudder shifted and the sail moved to the other side of the stern. They swiftly made their way back to the rocky outcrop near their villa.

"I'm coming with you," Bronte gripped his arm as he stepped into the row boat.

"No. You have our baby to think about now, Bron. I won't have you risk both of your lives. I'll be careful, slip in from the rear, no one will see me."

She watched on with anticipation, she felt the bile rise in her throat and leaned over the side and vomited. She hated this feeling, but she knew it was a good sign that the baby was strong and healthy. She hoped so. She couldn't face losing another child to leukaemia like she had Joshua. Nor to violence like she had Carrie. Callen was right, she moved below deck and waited, her eyes scanned the cabin looking for a weapon.

Callen moved like a ghost. He kept to the shadows of the cliffs and checked the perimeter for any dangers before entering the villa. They were already packed for their return flight home, one he knew they wouldn't be making. He grabbed their cells and shut them down, they couldn't afford to be traced, they needed to disappear. He wasn't sure how long before Hetty knew something was wrong, but he trusted his team to come to their rescue when they found out. At least it hadn't been their villa and they had been on the yacht. It unnerved him that this could happen so close to where they were staying. He collected all their rubbish and looked around the villa. The bed was made as if no one had slept in it, he knew it would be a week or so before the owner came to wash the sheets. The villa belonged to an old colleague he'd worked with in the CIA. He trusted him, but now his paranoia kicked in and he trusted no one outside his and Gibbs' team at NCIS. He picked up their bags and headed back down the steps, scanning the area as he quickly fled the scene. He threw their things and the rubbish bag into the boat and rowed around the cliff to a small cove where the yacht rocked steadily on the water. He sighed with relief when he saw Bronte's figure appear on deck. In a fraction of a moment, his heart thumped heavily inside his chest that something had happened to her.

"Pass it up, G." She leaned over and grabbed the rope, tying it up securely. He passed their bags up and threw the rubbish bag onto the deck.

"I've left it as we found it, no one will know we were ever there." He held her for a moment, taking in her scent of salt water and her shampoo. She was safe, they all were. He placed his hand on her belly, "let's go far away from this place."