“I’ll be honest,” Romero said. “Her plan scared the shit out of me.”
“It was reckless.” Luke gave her hair a scolding tug.
“Shut up,” she mumbled. “It was brilliant.”
“You saved us a lot of time.” Cole leaned forward, arms braced on knees.
The vertical frown lines between his eyes were more prominent than the downturn of his lips. His thick brown beard did a good job of hiding the subtleties in his expression, which was probably a calculated effort. But no amount of hair could conceal the beautiful symmetry of his features.
“When you contacted us,” he said, “we were at least two or three days away from isolating your location. You saved a lot of innocent lives.”
“And ended a lot of evil.” Luke’s fingers tightened in her hair.
“It was all her. I was just doing what she asked.” Romero blushed, looking sheepish. “She was pretty convincing once she started talking about how I could earn back my freedom by joining a movement against human sex traffickers. When I got involved with La Rocha, I knew they were criminals, but I didn’t know about the girls and the slave buyers and everything that went on at the compound. I really had no idea what I was getting into until it was too late.”
He told them about his family in Mexico, their poverty and sickness, and his desperation to help them. He’d been naive, just like her, and they’d both paid the price.
Romero had been imprisoned in his concrete room at the estate for two years, designing and maintaining the proprietary technology that secured the property. Only Silvia and her brothers had access to his room.
Vera would bet her last dollar that Silvia had raped the poor kid. Frequently.
“They threatened to butcher my family,” he said. “I left my parents two years ago, promising to send them money. They haven’t heard from me or seen a single dollar since I left.”
“We’ll take care of them, kid.” Lucia looked up from her laptop and winked. “You’re one of us now. Tu familia es nuestra familia.”
Your family is our family.
Vera felt that in her bones, and it made her eyes heat and dampen. Luke was taking her to her sister, bringing her into his tight-knit family, and giving her a home.
He was offering her a world of tangible dreams and possibilities.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to show up.” With her head in his lap, she reached up and cupped his scratchy, chiseled jaw. “Romero and I didn’t come to an agreement right away. I didn’t trust him not to use one of his devices to notify the cartel.”
“And I didn’t trust her not to smash in my skull.” Romero released an anxious laugh.
“We eventually worked out a fragile truce. Then we spent hours ironing out a plan.” Guilt riddled her. “I took too long.”
“You showed up.” Luke slid a thumb across her cheek.
“Not soon enough.”
“I’m alive, Vera. With all my body parts intact.”
Her throat tightened at the memory of Marco holding pruning shears when she’d charged in.
“I saw the instrument Silvia used on you.” She lowered her voice. “You should let the doctor examine you.”
“What instrument?” Tate asked.
“Strap-on.” Luke met his friend’s eyes. “It had been a while since…”
“Eight years, man.” Tate blew out a breath. “It’s not easy to relive a second time, is it?”
“No, but I remembered the training, everything Van taught us. It helped.”
“Are you injured?”
“It’s minor. I’ll heal.”
She watched their interaction, recalling everything Luke had told her about the captives in Van’s attic. The nine of them shared such horrific memories, but she found comfort in the ease in which they could talk about it.
Lucia set her laptop aside and crawled onto Tate’s lap, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her face in his neck.
For a group of vicious killers, their empathy was palpable, their deep friendships undeniable. Vera respected them for that. Quite frankly, she was in awe of how these proud, dominant males could undergo such trauma and not lose themselves on the other side of it. Some victims never recovered.
“I betrayed you, Vera.” Luke’s roughened voice drew her gaze.
“What?”
“Silvia…put hands on me. Her mouth.” His jaw went rigid. “My body reacted. I couldn’t control—”
“Did you want her? Did you give your consent?”
“No. Fuck, no. But I wasn’t strong enough to—”
“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Luke.” She pushed herself up to meet him at eye-level. “I was raped for three years. You don’t have to convince me you didn’t want it. I’ve been there.”
“Yeah, I know.” His eyes hardened. “I raped you.”
“I forgave you. You don’t have to forgive Silvia. In fact, I’ll be royally pissed if you do.”
“Dayyy-um.” Lucia grinned. “I like her. It’s about time someone put you in your place, Luke.”
“When her leg heals, my place will be standing behind her upturned ass while I blister it red.”
“Promises, promises.” Vera lay back down, returning her head to his lap.
She slept off and on through the duration of the flight. During moments of alertness, she listened to them wrap up the details of the mission and discuss the status of another one Camila was running in Mexico.
But mostly, they talked about Tomas.
Cole asked a lot of questions about the email, its origin, and Tomas’ childhood. Luke and Tate didn’t have the answers. Tomas had never told anyone he’d loved and lost a girl. He’d certainly never told anyone he’d been writing to her ghost all these years.
It sounded like they were going to give him a week to make contact. Then Cole would fly back to America and go after him.
“Who are you?” Vera cringed at the rudeness of her question. “Sorry. That came out wrong. But seriously. You’re not one of Van’s captives. You’re not related to them by blood or marriage. You’re not a Restrepo cartel member. So… Who are you?”
Cole flashed her a wolfish, bearded smile, all teeth, and no answers.
“If you ever figure it out…” Luke stroked the curve of her hip. “Tell the rest of us.”
Vera spent the next week in a blur of recovery and acclimation. She’d been dug out of hell, dropped into a brand-new life, and she embraced it with her entire being.
The Restrepo Cartel headquarters in Colombia was even more lavish than Casa de La Rocha. Nestled in the Amazon rainforest, it boasted top-notch security, freedom to roam without consequences, and the best part? The cartel didn’t traffic humans. They sought and destroyed those who did.
Matias and Camila were in Mexico right now, running another mission. But she met the rest of the crew. Liv and Josh, Van and Amber, Kate and Tiago, Martin and Ricky. And Tula…
Her sister had greeted her on the helicopter pad, arms wide, black hair whipping in the turbulence, and tears streaking down her face. They cried together, blubbered their regrets, and reconnected for days.