When the vehicle stopped moving, it seemed the longest time before the trunk was opened, sunlight flooding into the space and causing Riley to blink against the pain. Rough hands dragged and pulled him out first, and the minute his feet touched the ground, the excruciating pain in his ankle had him on his knees. Something was broken inside his boot. They left him there on his knees, then pulled Tom out until Tom was at his side, coughing and leaning against Riley momentarily.

They exchanged glances, but shouted Spanish and a tug forced them apart.

Riley knew Spanish well past rudimentary high school level, but he couldn’t understand the slang, the shouts, and fuck, his head hurt.

They separated him and Tom, dragging Tom away.

“What do you want!”

No one answered him, then with more shouting and another hit to his neck and head, everything became a blur.

Chapter 10

Jack cracked his neck and nudged Solo Cal with his knees into a canter. He was checking the far fences, which to be fair were more ornamental than anything. The D was vast and backed onto common land, and there wasn’t much danger of the fencing being destroyed or any of his horses getting this far away from the house. When he’d inherited the work out there, or rather when Donna had inherited, Jack’s dad had shrunk everything down, selling stock, pulling everything back in. When Jack took over, he had to rationalize and focus on the horses. They didn’t have the money to really keep this extended area in focus.

That all changed when the foals had started to sell, and added to the business of teaching Jack’s own unique version of horse whispering, there was enough to see the ranch in the black for a long time.

Riley understood now why Jack wouldn’t take his money, but at first the fights had been legendary. Riley couldn’t see why Jack wouldn’t take what was his by right. Not only had Jack married Riley, but Riley’s supposed father, Gerald, had swindled Jack’s family out of their share of the money in the first place.

The fence looked solid, and he encouraged Solo Cal up a rise and to the front of the acreage. There he stopped and sat for the longest time, contemplating what to do next. Vaughn had jumped at the chance to come and work at the D, and he was showing promise. Robbie liked him, and Liam seemed to be comfortable as well. Now that they had Vaughn, Jack’s idea of the school could be a go, especially with both Robbie and Liam behind it as well.

He narrowed his eyes at where he knew the distant road would be. Did he want strangers using the main D road? Did he want them coming past his home?

Probably better to spur from the approach road and build something solid here. He dismounted and turned three-sixty, looking at what they had in this part of the D: good pasture land that needed to be seen to, an offshoot of the water that ran through the D, inclines, trails. They could do this. If he shut his eyes, he could imagine new buildings, white fencing, cleared paths. He needed to get all this down on paper. They’d need to have something to show all the suits who would want to get involved with the building of this.

Last of all, he wanted to talk to Riley, see if maybe his husband wanted to invest in the venture. For Max.

His cell vibrated, and he pulled it out, seeing three texts from Riley and smiling like an idiot. He knew Riley was out at the field today. They’d talked last night about Bryan’s security concerns, and Jack had made Riley promise to text him. Seemed like all three were arriving at the same time.

A complaint about coffee, or lack of it, was typical Riley. That was the first, the second was a reminder to Jack that Max was on half days twice this week because of teacher training, but that Carol was picking him up. Like he needed reminding, Riley had a huge calendar on the wall that micromanaged everyone. Also typical Riley. The last, which made Jack laugh so loud he had Solo Cal nudging his shoulder, was a selfie of Riley pulling a face with the caption “Getting bored sitting here.” He fired off a reply with his own selfie, well kind of selfie, more a close-up of Solo Cal’s teeth and the comment that Riley was missed by all his family.

He pocketed the cell and made his way back to the house. He was only halfway back when he saw Robbie heading his way on horseback. Robbie reined in the horse so hard he had to fight to keep astride.

“Jesus, Robbie,” Jack began.

“It’s Riley. There’s something wrong.”

Robbie turned and headed back the way he came, Jack’s instinct to ride fast kicking in instantly. Together they clattered into the yard, and Liam took the reins. Jack looked around. He didn’t know what for. A cop? Someone with news? He saw a man at the porch and another just inside the door. He crossed to them in long strides, his heart in his throat.

“What happened?” he demanded.

The first man held up a hand. “Edward Carson, FBI,” he introduced himself. “Are you Jackson Campbell-Hayes?”

“I am. What’s happened to Riley? Is he hurt?” Then it hit Jack, was Riley dead? Were they here to tell Jack that Riley was dead? He stood firm, refusing to crumble, and he could see Carol behind the second Fed with one of the twins in her arms. She was crying. Why are you crying?

“There has been a kidnapping. Two men have been taken by the Nuevo Cartel, we believe one to be your husband, and there has been an immediate demand for ransom.”

“When?”

Carson stepped forward. “Can we sit somewhere and talk?”

The sound of a helicopter approaching had Jack checking the sky. Was that Riley? But as it got nearer, he realized it was a news helicopter. He’d thought those days were behind him. He heard a horse whinny from behind him, startled at the noises. Damned ’copters need to get out of my space. Where was Riley? What was happening? Riley was coming home? Right?

“We’re not sitting,” Jack finally stated. “Get that helicopter away from my land, and tell me what the hell is going on.”

“It’s on the TV,” Carol interjected. Jack pushed past Carson and whoever the hell the other guy was who looked just as official. He followed Carol into the good room, and she replayed the TV news report.

“Reports in from the Texas-Mexico border of another kidnapping…” The words faded to nothing more than white noise as a picture of Riley appeared on the screen. All Jack could think was that he had better photos of his husband. He wasn’t making any sense even to himself. The ticker said simply, “Oil millionaire kidnapped by Nuevo Cartel, in Mexican oil land grab.”

Jack turned on his heel and stared at Carson. “When?”

“Four hours ago,” he said carefully.

“So we have guys on the ground, SEALs, Marines? Right? Who the hell is getting my husband back?”

“We have people considering the situation. It’s delicate—”

“Fuck delicate. If you don’t get someone down there, I’ll hire privately and you can clear up the mess they leave.” Jack was on a roll. He could handle this. He could hire someone, mercenaries; after all, there had to be a reason he and Riley had money.

“Sir, you need to sit down so we can talk.”

“How much money do they want?” Robbie asked. Jack cast him a grateful look. He hadn’t even thought about the money. Fuck, they had money.

“Twenty-five million.”

“We can do that,” Jack said instantly. They had some put in places that could be easily gotten to, surely Riley’s trust or something could do that much money. The rest? Jim could help them. Didn’t Sandra have money? Eden? Hell, Steve?

“The US doesn’t negotiate—”

“Look.” Jack poked Carson in the chest, and to the Fed’s credit, he didn’t flinch. “I don’t give a shit how the US does it, but I will get my husband back and anyone else they took.”

“We have a team in the area working with—”

“You said two men? What about the others? Tom?”