With a nod, she stood. Trees’s stare swept up and down her body. She flashed hot. Self-consciously, she tugged at his shirt, trying to drag it below her knees in a futile effort to feel less seen. But unlike the Ramos brothers, his stare wasn’t a precursor to a sexual demand. Trees merely rose to his feet, withdrew his phone from his pocket, and headed to the corner of the house that contained his home office—the room beside hers.
After a shower, she realized she had nothing clean to wear until she finished laundry, so she donned Trees’s overlarge red tee again, gathered all the dirty clothes, then started the washing machine. While the clothes agitated, she cleaned the kitchen.
That left her with nothing to do—a state she hated—so she made Trees’s bed, then started tidying the rest of the house. As the weather warmed, he left his office. Together, they made lunch, then ate in relative silence. Afterward, he took her out back to better acquaint her with Barney. The big black dog still intimidated her, especially when he growled at her approach. But soon enough, he sniffed her outstretched hand, took a treat from her, and allowed her to pet him. Perhaps they would never be best friends, but she would settle for him not biting off her leg.
Back inside, afternoon shadows turned to evening. With that came thoughts of bedtime. Would Trees invite her to sleep there again? If he did, would they finish what she had so abruptly ended last night?
Laila wrestled with her mixed feelings as she tried to find interest in a telenovela. Eventually, the dramatics of the characters seemed too foolish to waste even another moment, and she drifted around the corner from her bedroom. The door to Trees’s office was cracked enough to see the darkness inside, broken only by the glow of his computer monitors.
As she hovered in the doorway, his phone rang. He swiped it off the desk with a curse. “What’s up, Muñoz? Any break on Kimber’s case?”
Laila didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but as she stepped back to give him privacy, his next words stopped her.
“No. Fuck no! Listen, let’s cut the shit. Laila is safer here than anywhere else. Every inch of my land is monitored, and no one can set foot anywhere on it without me knowing. I’m armed to the teeth. I’m ready for any battle, even the fucking apocalypse. You know that; everyone on the team does. The only reason you and the Edgington brothers told Walker to come get Laila is because you think I’m fucking guilty of being your mole.”
Shock froze her. Was it possible? Ever since their Orlando safe house had been breached, she had been wondering who inside their organization had leaked information to the wrong ears and exposed her family’s location to Emilo. But Trees? In the past few days, she’d come to believe he was forthright. That he kept his word. That he was one of the good guys.
Isn’t every man…until money is involved?
Was it possible he had sold out?
Would his own bosses think he was guilty if he hadn’t?
She had to do something to protect herself. To protect Valeria and Jorge.
Thoughts racing, Laila tiptoed away from Trees and rushed to her bedroom, shutting the door with a barely audible click. She didn’t want to believe Trees would betray her and her sister to men determined to kill them, then lie about it…but she hadn’t managed to stay alive in a dangerous criminal underworld without being cautious—and using whatever connections she had.
She plucked up her burner phone and dialed one of the few numbers she knew by heart. On the second ring, she got an answer and exhaled with relief.
“Hello?” The voice was cautious—but thankfully familiar.
“Señor Walker, it is Laila Torres.”
“You okay?”
He wasn’t much for small talk, which suited her. “I need to ask you a question.”
Walker would be bluntly honest. In Emilo’s compound, their mutual desperation to escape had led them to team up. His three weeks in captivity had almost killed him. Her six years there had nearly destroyed her. She had found an outside line of communication to her sister to facilitate EM Security’s arrival. One-Mile had hatched a plan to put them in the right place at the right time for their rescue. Together, they had succeeded. Then, when their first safe house in St. Louis had been breached, Walker had helped her and Valeria flee to Florida with perfect precision. He had never once made her doubt his loyalty or his intentions.
Should you really doubt Trees now?
She didn’t want to. After all, EM Security’s owners might be wrong. Or maybe there was a misunderstanding. It might even be an accident. Of course she wanted to find some way—any way—in which Trees wasn’t guilty. But was that realistic? Was that her foolish heart talking? After all, she had only known the seemingly gentle giant a handful of days…but she had known the nature of men for years. Which should she really trust?
“Shoot. I’ve got a few minutes. I’m just waiting for my fiancée to finish talking to the florist. Our wedding is in two weeks.”
He was getting married? Laila would have sworn the taciturn sniper wasn’t the sort to take a wife, but he sounded downright happy. She was thrilled for him, but she had to get answers while she could. “I am calling about Trees.”
“Talk to me.”
His cautious note set her on edge. “Why do your bosses want you to watch over me instead of him?”
“I’m sure they’ve got their reasons.”
But his growl made her think he didn’t disagree. “Is it because they believe that, in the past, he has leaked our whereabouts to Emilo?”
“Fuck,” he spewed. “Where did you hear that?”
“It does not matter. What I want to know is if you think it is true.”
He sighed. “Look, I don’t want to throw a teammate under the bus. He seems like a good guy and all, but here’s what I know. Last October, when we suddenly moved you to Florida, it was because we spotted Emilo in St. Louis, close to your house. We couldn’t fucking figure out how he knew you and your family were even in the city. I worried we had a mole, and I worried it was Trees because he was with me when I got taken by Emilo’s goons. Somehow, the lucky son of a bitch escaped. When I got free, I tested my theory that it was him by sending the exact address and the schematic of the St. Louis safe house to him via the office secretary. Within twenty-four hours, Emilo broke in through the back door with every intention of killing your sister. I don’t know who else to blame.”
“The secretary, perhaps?” Laila winced. She really wanted Trees to be innocent…and it was breaking her heart that the EM operative she trusted most was putting the nails in that coffin.
“I don’t think Tessa has the know-how or the connections.”
But Trees did. “I see. So he’s guilty of selling you out?”
“I wish I didn’t have to say it, but I’m afraid so.”
“…The only reason you and the Edgington brothers want Walker to come get Laila now is because you think I’m fucking guilty of being your mole,” Trees growled into the phone, wishing he could reach through and tear Muñoz a new asshole. Sure, he was pissed off that his own boss thought he was guilty and wouldn’t man up and admit it. But he was way more hacked that the standoffish fucker had made the unilateral decision to take Laila away from him.