“Yes.” I wait for her to call me out for not telling her about Kylie. But she doesn’t.
“What did Kylie do?” It’s a rhetorical question, one Luciana can’t answer. One I’m totally, utterly unprepared to answer myself. My heart accelerates. I wish my legs would follow suit, then carry me as fast as possible out of this nightmare.
“Think. Before San Diego, back home. There must be something.”
“I wish I knew.”
Luciana places her hand on mine. “You need to keep running. Understand?”
I nod.
She shifts away, repositioning herself on the couch, and begins treating her injuries, doing what I should be doing except my hands are shaking too badly.
“Who did this? Please, tell me.”
“Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know. You’ll disappear, this time to a place where no one knows where you are. Not even me, in case he questions me . . .”
I don’t know whether to scream or cry. Is this my destiny, to find those people closest to me at risk, for me to keep running from something I don’t understand?
“Remember our bucket list. I’m still holding you to your promise. This time next year, we’ll meet in Rome. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
“Now who’s being overly optimistic?”
She waves a cotton swab toward the direction Diego has taken. “Go to bed, you need to sleep. There’s a second spare room, off to the right. Unless you feel like calming my brother down . . .”
“Jeez, you’re shameless, you know that. Sex is the last thing on my mind.” My familiar reprimand sounds hallow to my ears. As it often does, my thoughts immediately shift to another man and the phone number I’ve memorized by heart . . . in case of an emergency . . . I pull out my cell phone but it’s dead. “Can I use a phone?”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“But it is. There’s someone I know who’ll help me disappear.” He’s done it before, right?
“Diego will lose his shit if we call anyone. You need his help. Let him handle this.”
I bite my lower lip. By the time my stranger arrives . . . if he can be reached . . . if he’ll even come . . .
“Don’t worry. My brother excels at this sort of thing. It’s what he does.”
“He makes people disappear?”
Luciana stares at me for a few seconds without answering. “Will you forgive me?” she whispers, a slight quiver in her tone.
I study her, the closest person to family I have now, someone I don’t truly know at all.
Forgiveness. It like a present that’s been painstakingly wrapped. You hope the gift inside will merit the same response as the pretty paper packaging. That the recipient will understand its value and treasure its worth, without getting side-tracked by the colorful display on the outside of the box. No, I don’t give this gift lightly. But despite her deception, I do know what kind of person Luciana is—the kind who’d tear through the paper with both hands to claim the fig leaf I’m offering her inside.
She shifts on the sofa, and a flash of pain crosses her face. And it’s in that moment, I break.
“I forgive you. But no more lies, okay?”
“No more lies.” She looks at me. Really looks at me, like she’s memorizing every line on my face. “You look like your sister?” she asks softly, gently, and with a shake of her head. “Seems like I’m not the only one of us keeping secrets.”
5
Declan
Tracking them was simple. Far too many locals remembered the blond gringa and her beautiful companion waiting for the early bus to Loreto. A conspicuous pair, as subtle as lightning. I first hired the fisherman, who’d taken Madelyn’s money, then promptly sold her out. A sad ending for him, though. Hell has no use for his ill-gotten Benjamins.
In Loreto, I rented a car under the pseudonym Juan Rodrigo. Yeah, I could teach Madelyn a thing or two about blending in.
But that’s not why I am trailing her and her friend.
My orders are to track them. Call in. Be in position to terminate.
The women are collateral damage. My boss’s real target is that traitor, Kylie Smith.
Madelyn’s sister.
I kick the dirt with my boot. Hayden assigned three amateurs to the simple task of sending a warning to Kylie. Hoping to scare her baby sister in order to flush her out of hiding? Or was him hiring these goons a more subtle message to the traitor: You won’t know who is coming for you until it’s too late? Whatever Hayden’s intent, what was meant to be a slight warning had been taken far further than required.
The fools got knife happy and had been about to get even happier, when I stepped in.
Motherfuckers.
And I wasn’t even supposed to be in Cabo.
If Hayden catches wind of the bullshit I’ve pulled, both last night and four months ago . . . such uncharacteristic breaches in my typical show-no-mercy way of going about business . . .
No one dares challenge Hayden. My boss leads with an iron fist despite the laid-back vibe he puts off. Haven’t we learned that lesson well? Cardinal rule number one that callous bastard has drilled into us is that unfavorable actions have consequences. Seasoned professionals like me, hardened with time and with an ever-growing kill count, have long accepted this.
It’s been my ruthlessly calculated delivery of these so-called consequences that Hayden depends on time and time again. I simply get the job done, that’s all. A one-man show. His stonehard, capable, go-to man.
Trust no one. You never know who will betray you.
Yet who does he call in to clean up the mess? For an assignment that should have been mine and mine alone in the first place?
So here I wait outside Diego’s home, calmly anticipating their departure while wondering if I’ll be commanded to do the unthinkable. Clean up a job gone array. Silence anyone who might give away my organization’s secrets.
If anyone has reason to be furious about what’s gone down, it’s my counterpart, Diego. I’d gotten his call late last night, along with a heated earful of how Hayden’s goons had carved up his goddamned sister.
I’ve never met her, the woman doing me the favor of keeping tabs on Madelyn. Until last night. A case of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And because of her weekly updates, my damned curiosity with Kylie’s sister placed me in exactly the right place, at exactly the right time.
But right now, I’m dealing in the immediate.
Diego knows the drill. It’s impossible to predict what that loose cannon might do if I’m ordered to act. Little will he know, it’s me outside and on his doorstep.
Last night, I’d received two phone calls. The first was Hayden, calling me in to clean up his mess. To find Kylie’s sister and report in. He’d gotten word from one of his goons how they’d taken things too far with the wrong girl. And, as all fucked up roads lead back to Hayden, there’s a risk that unwanted attention will be cast onto our organization if they talk. Secrecy is the name of the game in our world. Now I’m to locate the woman and her friend. Witnesses. A security threat.
Yet ironically, who do they go to for help? My counterpart, Diego—and the second person who’d called me. Who gave me an earful about his sister being cut up and between the curses, growled out their location.