The Hunted Girls by Jenna Kernan (best book club books for discussion txt) 📕

“Why not just let me roll him into the water. They’ll never find him.”

“You made a deal,” she reminded.

“But if you don’t care for him, why do you care what happens to him?”

“He’s FBI. They’ll never stop looking for him, and if he dies, they’ll never stop looking for us. Don’t you want to be clear of them?”

“Oh, we will be. Where we’re going, they can’t touch us.”

“Where’s that?”

“He’s not taking her north out of the state. He’s heading south,” said Demko. “He’s a naturalized citizen. Born in Cuba.”

FBI Director Gabriella Carter eyed him like a fly in her ceviche.

“You have zero evidence on which direction our suspect is taking. Or proof that Decristofaro is the Huntsman.”

“He hasn’t been at work in two days!”

“I’ll have an agent look into it. Happy?”

“I’ve done that. He’s not at his residence. She’s still missing and you have no leads, no suspects and no progress. We need to move operations to block him from taking her out of the country.”

“I assure you, we have all airports covered.”

“He’s not flying. He’s in a boat. A small one.”

“Detective Demko, you need to leave this to the professionals.”

“Exactly.” He spun and stormed from the field office.

In the outer lobby, Tina Ruz and Juliette Hartfield waited.

“And?” asked Juliette.

“They’re not moving operations.”

“What!” said Tina. “What’ll we do?”

“I’m going to pull every string I can find with the US Coast Guard while driving toward the coast.”

“I’m coming with you,” said the two women in unison.

An hour later, a startled vet had taken custody of a bird, a cat and a dog, while their three human owners piled into his SUV.

“Which coast?” asked Juliette.

The Huntsman had told Nadine he was taking her out of the country. His father had fled Cuba in the mid-1990s, escaping in a homemade raft to Miami with Lionel and his older brother, leaving his pregnant wife behind because the journey was too dangerous. Since then, his father had been unable to secure his wife and daughter’s escape. Lionel planned to return to reunite with his family—the mother he had not seen since he was a child, and the sister he never knew.

Miami was, in fact, closer to Cuba than it was the state capital in Tallahassee. Decristofaro had a shrimp boat in Crystal River, north of Tampa. He’d told her they’d work their way down to the Keys, as innocuous as a tractor trailer on any highway. From Key West, the island of Cuba lay only ninety miles south. Nadine’s courage slipped as she realized that, if Lionel succeeded, Demko would never find her.

He’d left her here, taking the flat-bottomed boat, as he made final arrangements. Nadine did not waste time verifying they were on an island because she feared that Jack’s condition was worse than Lionel had indicated.

She washed Jack’s wounds and the open sores blanketing his back. The bruising on his stomach caused her to suspect internal bleeding.

The Huntsman had taken the medical kit and lighter.

She sat with Jack’s head in her lap. Trickling water from a rag into his mouth, trying to get him to swallow. Her diamond ring flashed in the morning sunlight, streaming through the cracks in the planking.

Why hadn’t she told Clint yes! She’d been so full of fears of what might be, that she’d overlooked what could be. She wanted a future with Demko. She wanted to be his wife, and that meant she needed to be as fearless as her mother, without the crazy. She needed to survive this and tell Clint she would be his bride. If he loved her, he’d understand what had held her back and forgive her for her hesitancy.

She could not change where she came from. She could not change who had brought her into this world or the many relations in her life who had turned to darkness. But she had survived them, and if she could survive this, she could choose her future. She wanted that future with Clint. She wanted it enough to fight with everything she had to win the right to live with him as his wife.

They could make this work. They could share a life together. All she had to do was get Jack to understand where Lionel was taking her, and then keep Lionel from killing him. If Jack could survive to tell Clint, she knew Demko would never stop looking for her.

“Jack. Please wake up.”

How long until he returned?

Nadine soaked the dirt and debris from Jack’s tortured hands. Then she dabbed them dry and began wrapping them with strips she’d torn from her ruined nightshirt.

An idea struck her. She left him to pluck some leaves from the trees beside the dock. Then she returned to Jack and tucked the vegetation within the layers of fabric bandages on his hands. If they found him, they’d have something of this place as well.

Jack groaned, clearly in pain, and his eyelids fluttered.

“Jack!”

He moaned.

“Jack! Can you hear me? It’s Nadine. He’s taking me to Cuba. Do you hear me?”

His lips were moving. Was he trying to speak to her? She lowered her ear to his mouth but could make no sense of his mutterings.

“He’s taking me down the Gulf Coast. Crystal River to Key West to Cuba.” She said it again. Repeating it over and over. But it was useless. He was delirious. His mind shattered and his body pushed beyond its limits.

She tried again to get him to drink, holding the cup to his mouth as the liquid ran down his chin. But this time, he swallowed. Then again.

“Jack! It’s Nadine.” She started again, repeating her words, hoping he’d understand.

Her ring flashed again, a rainbow of hope in the dismal cabin. The idea struck her.

She slipped the ring from her finger and worked it onto Jack’s larger one, pushing it down his little finger as far as possible. The engagement ring stopped between the first and second knuckle.

Nadine then used a bit of charcoal from the fire to write “Keys to