“He tell you where he was going?” Lars asked as he shoved his legs into his jeans. His usual smile wasn’t in sight again this morning; instead, he wore a small, permanent frown between his pale brows.

“Just out,” Finn said. He shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to interrogate him.”

“Fucking should have,” Lars said. “That guy’s been trouble from the word go. He leaves here, wounded and barefoot, and that didn’t raise any red flags?”

“How far could he have gone?” Finn asked. “He’s probably trying to hitch a ride or something.”

“Or,” Lars said, lifting a finger, “or he could be going around saying stuff like, ‘Oh, si, where I find Mexico border?’”

Finn rolled his eyes and then squeezed his lids shut with his fingers. “Jesus, you’re a fucking drama queen.”

“He could be out there right now, trying to—”

The motel room’s door handle rattled. “Hello?” came Angel’s voice from outside.

Finn swept a hand to the door as he rose to answer it. “You were saying?”

“I wouldn’t give him a ride either,” Lars snapped.

Cora sat up in bed, watching the two of them arguing, still wearing nothing but a towel and a slightly worried expression. Finn watched her face as he opened the door and Angel limped inside, a bag of sweets dangling from one hand. Her eyes brightened a little, and then a shadow crossed her face almost immediately.

He closed the door as Lars began tossing Cora’s clothes at her. “Here, put on something decent,” the man growled, giving Angel a foul look before disappearing into the bathroom.

Cora sat with her clothes in her lap, looking confused. “Sure, I’ll just do that,” she muttered. Then she unhooked her towel and began unwrapping it.

Finn grabbed Angel’s shoulder as the man walked past him and spun him to face the door. Then he stood facing the same way, glancing beside him at Angel as they waited for Cora to get dressed.

Angel opened the packet of sweets and offered them to Finn.

He gave them a look and snorted. “Bad for your teeth.”

“I have good teeth,” Angel countered. He chewed one of the sweets, and then took another, fidgeting with it more than anything else. Behind them, Cora cursed quietly under her breath as clothes rustled.

Finn saw Angel’s head turning ever so slightly, and cleared his throat. The guy faced forward again in a hurry and shoved the sweet in his mouth.

“Where’d you go?” Finn asked.

“Out.”

“There isn’t a whole of anything out there.”

“Shop,” Angel said, hoisting the sweets again. “Want?”

“You always have a sudden craving for sugar at the crack of dawn?”

“¿Que?” Angel said, looking up at him with a frown.

“Forget it,” Finn grumbled. He risked a glance over his shoulder. Cora was straightening her shirt, but other than that she was fully dressed. Finn took his seat at the dresser again. “Lars?”

“What?” came the man’s voice from the bathroom.

“You gonna be long in there?”

Lars ripped open the door. “Guess not,” he muttered, and then went over to Cora. She squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You shut up and listen,” he said, seeming to ignore Finn’s frown when he turned to take a seat beside her.

Cora opened her mouth, and then shut it again.

Finn cleared his throat again, then glanced at Angel. He was still standing close to the doorway, another sweet in his fingers. When he saw Finn looking at him, he offered the bag of sweets again.

“No!” Finn said. “Get out.”

“Finn,” Cora began.

“I go,” Angel said, sounding relieved. The motel door closed softly behind him.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Cora said, and then cast Lars a quick glance as if expecting a reprimand for speaking.

Finn sat forward, his elbows on his knees, and laced his fingers together. “Things have gotten fucked up.”

Cora watched him, her gaze flickering across his eyes. Then she nodded.

“Worst case scenario,” Lars said, “both Martin and West still want to get their hands on you.”

She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. Ducked her head. Began twisting her hands in her lap.

“I don’t think Martin’s necessarily out to hurt you, but he seems to have his own fucking agenda,” Finn said.

“And don’t forget he seemed perfectly happy with using Milo as target practice,” Lars added. “That strike you as the action of a sane person?”

“Maybe he thought you were trying to—”

Lars flicked her ear with his fingers. She yelped and turned an astonished face to him. “What did I say about speaking?”

Her mouth fell open, and she held out a hand, staring at Finn as if asking him to intervene.

“Just let us talk, Cora.”

She closed her mouth, but reluctantly, and tightly crossed her arms over her chest.

“We’re taking you away from here. We need to regroup. Change identities. Whatever we can to get off their radars,” Finn said.

Cora looked as if she was bursting to speak, but held her tongue.

“However…” Lars looked across at him, and his mouth twisted reluctantly. “There’s something you should know first.”

Cora glanced up at that, turning worried eyes first to Lars, and then Finn.

“Obviously we can’t confirm it, not stuck out here, but…” Finn paused, glancing toward the motel door before looking back at her. “Javier said you were his goddaughter.”

Cora sat up at this, her face growing slack. The swelling had down a little during the night, but the left side of her face still looked a bit puffy and tender. The scratches were starting to scab. Hopefully they wouldn’t leave scars.

Although she’d look smoking hot with a pale scar over her cheek.

Finn pushed away the random thought and shrugged. “Until you’re twenty-one, that could mean Javier’s your legal guardian.”

“Unless you emancipate,” Lars said.

“Which you’d probably have to do in Mexico, since you’re an illegal,” Finn said.

“I’m his goddaughter?” Cora whispered.

Lars didn’t flick her ear this time. Perhaps he thought the announcement deserved a little back-and-forth.

“That’s what he said.” Finn shrugged. “He could be lying, of course…”

“I…” Cora ducked her head. “It’s possible. My father thought the world of him. I guess, if something happened to Papá, there wouldn’t be anyone else to—” She cut off, and blinked back tears.

Finn scratched the back of his neck, and glanced across at Lars. “Then…there’s something else you should probably know.”

Cora’s face went pale. Two spots of color popped onto her cheeks.

God, why was this so difficult? And Lars seemed to be waiting him out instead of jumping in. Guess he had it coming. He’d kept Lars out of this whole thing for days; the man had every right to be upset.

“Before I met you, Lars and I—”

“You were a couple?” Cora put in, her voice quavering.

Finn deflated. “I wouldn’t say—”

“Jesus,” Lars said dryly. “We fucked a few times, that’s it.”

When he looked across at Lars, the man wasn’t making eye contact with him.

Cora turned round eyes to Lars, and then began fidgeting with the collar of her shirt. “Oh,” she said, and then swallowed visibly.

“That’s it?” Lars said, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “No questions? You don’t want to know what we got up to—”

“Lars,” Finn said gruffly. “This isn’t the time.”

“Yeah?” Lars shot him a quick look, and then his eyes darted to the closed motel room door. “Think Angel’s going to bust in on us? ‘Cos I was thinking we could show her what we—”

“Enough,” Finn said hastily, drawing Cora’s eyes back to him.

He didn’t know what he’d expected. Revulsion, astonishment, anger. Instead, something else brimmed from those bright golden eyes, a kind of hedonistic curiosity.

It was probably his imagination. After what she’d seen him do to that guy yesterday, there was no way she could ever look at him like a woman looked at a man. Not without seeing the violence teeming just beneath the surface. How could you be vulnerable in the face of something so destructive?

“Look, I can’t see into the future. All I know is, we got to get you somewhere far away from the cartels,” Finn said, loud enough to drown out the thoughts in his head. “I was thinking—”

“Ah, fuck you Finn,” Lars said. “You seriously not going to be honest with her?”

Finn closed his mouth and threw Lars a meaningful glare which the man completely failed to see. Lars tucked a curl of Cora’s hair behind her ear. She shivered, and dropped her gaze into her lap.

“What he’s too shit scared to say, is that he’s fallen hard for you.”

“Lars,” Finn growled, but the man flat-out ignored him.

“You see, bunny, I know Finn. We’ve been friends for years. I know when some chick comes along and uses his heart for a punching bag.”

Cora glared up at Lars, heat in her eyes and her mouth pulling into a line. “What?” she demanded.

“It probably wasn’t intentional,” Lars said soothingly, still playing with a curl of her hair, “But you did it nonetheless.” He gave Finn a quick glance. “So it’s not good for us to keep hanging around you. But we’ll make sure you don’t ever have to worry about the cartels again.”

“And then?” Cora asked in a shaking voice. “Then I’ll never see you again?”

Finn rose. “That’s the plan,” he said quietly.

Cora turned to Lars, as if seeking some kind of explanation. Lars shrugged and said simply, “We’ll all be better off without each other.”

His words stung Finn like a slap through the face, but he made himself turn away so he could tell Angel to come back inside. They’d had their talk. It was time to gear up and get themselves to safety. And once Cora was—

As he opened the motel door, there came the sound of a gun cocking. Finn froze, and moved only his eyes to the right. Beside him, stood a stranger and, a little behind him, Angel. The newcomer held a Smith & Wesson magnum in his hands, steady as a statue, and trained it on Finn’s chest.

Larger target. Better chance at getting a hit.

“Who the fuck are you?” Finn grated, loud enough that Lars had to have heard him through the open door. True enough, he heard frantic movement from inside the motel room.

The guy holding the magnum gave him an unpleasant smile, eyes flickering for a second to the room as if he’d heard those furtive noises too. “Tell them not to bother. There’s no way out ‘cept through this door.” A slight dip of the revolver took in the doorway Finn crowded. “And ‘sides,” the man said with a smug little sneer. “Backup’ll be here any second now.”

Finn’s eyes flickered to the grimy sign heralding the motel’s name.

The Elegance.

He’d known it was no fucking coincidence. This motel was probably one of Zachary West’s fronts. And this guy must have been working the counter. Maybe he’d seen one of them who matched a description—

But then Finn’s eyes darted to Angel. The young man held his chin up, eyes blazing with defiance.

“What have you done?” Finn whispered hoarsely.