CHAPTER SEVEN
After the gas station debacle and two separate motel incidents, Diego Cortes didn’t have the disk or the lady. She was on the run with a proficient partner. Sweat soaked through his shirt. If El Jefe knew of his failures, it would be a writ of execution. Juan Carlos Silva was as vicious as he was creative. This was bad, but he could salvage it. Diego’s reputation and beating heart were on the line, and if ever there were a chance to prove he was worthy, it was now.
Representing the Silva Cartel was an honor. He wouldn’t fail.
The Lady of the Rosary medallion under his collar stuck to his chest. He pulled it out and flipped the medal between his fingers. Santa Madre de Dios, please help.
Diego was the last man standing and, like he was told by Senor Silva, he needed to use his brains. He should have done that before, but, no, his head was too big. Hiring local criminals was a mistake. More than a mistake. They were amateurs. And now, they were dead. He’d handed them a handful of bills after trolling for sordid men jonesing for an American dollar. He should have found an investment instead of a quick fix.
He knew Senor Silva better than most. Diego slaved under his tutelage, earned his trust, and swore to the Virgin Mary his loyalty. If he didn’t complete his task, Senor Silva would take immense pleasure in his death. He would nurse a crystal glass of high priced liquor, bleed him out, and delight in calling his mama. Senor would torture her, recounting how Diego failed the Silva cartel. Their family, his legacy obliterated. How his mama would weep, mourning for so many reasons.
No. Success must happen. The holy medallion slipped back under his shirt, tangling in his chest hair. It pulled, ripped a hair loose at the root, and reminded him this sting was a mosquito bite compared to what could happen.
He prayed for strengths and triumph. Santa Maria, Madre de Dios.
***
Winters eyed Mia. She rolled the window down, slapping the button as it shorted out, twice. He needed to do the same, anything to air out the stench of leftover fast food and stale smoke. The car was disgusting. The steering wheel was sticky, and empty beer cans rolled on the floorboards. He needed to wash his hands pronto. This clunker was foul, but according to Titan, not hot.
“So who do you love, Colby?”
Her question swung him out of autopilot. He wouldn’t tell her the truth. “What’s it to you?”
“Never mind. You’re such a jackass.” She huffed, pushed further away from him against the car door. Her foot shoved a beer can aside. She sucked on her lip, and he could all but taste the resentment. Mia had mastered the art of a first-rate sulk, and it tested his resolve.
“Wow. You come off as so put together and analytical. I’m surprised you’ve resulted to name calling.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Obviously,” he said.
She turned to face him. “I have no idea who you are. I have no idea who you love. And I have no idea why…”
“Why do you care?” That was way too harsh. But he didn’t want to answer her question. He couldn’t. He needed to protect himself. He should have stuck with the brilliant plan of lies.
“I already said never mind. Just leave me alone.”
He didn’t want to leave her alone. That was part of the problem. Winters checked over his shoulder before changing lanes, stealing a glance at her pouting lip and tight eyebrows. Tears brimmed on her bottom eyelids. I’m an asshole. He looked again. Yup, tears were idling up for a free fall. Oh hell. Don’t do that. I can’t stand your tears.
But as soon as he thought it, he cringed. He didn’t need her in his life. He shouldn’t share anything personal. It was easier to fight with her than speak the truth, but the bickering wasn’t worth her hurt feelings.
Winters shook his head at what he was about to say. His secrets were bubbling free. His typical MO abandoned him miles ago. Right now, he’d do anything to get rid of those wet eyes.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Mia. I was talking to my mom.”
Could he not keep his mouth shut? Work world. Personal life. Two very separate things. The two worlds didn’t comingle. They shouldn’t. For a million reasons, they simply could not. Loose lips sink ships. His ship was far too precious to make vulnerable. But here he was, unable to keep his lips sealed. All because some beautiful babe pouted? He glanced at her. Yeah, her angelic face would do it.
Days ago, that revelation was implausible. Today, no other choice existed. He’d knock out her hurt and jealousy like he took out the enemy who attacked her.
He opened his trap to again to explain. “My—”
“Your mom? Are you kidding me? Big, tough badass calls his mommy when he can’t come home from work? You’re worse than I thought. I didn’t think my asshole meter was this far off.”
Like an attacking rattler, she had drawn back and fired with spitting accuracy. Given this once in a lifetime bout of honesty, he didn’t see it coming. But now that she’d made her move, it was game on.
“My, my, Miss Mia. You’re about to get a taste of foot in mouth syndrome.”
“Try me.”
“With pleasure, babe. My mom babysits for me, doll. I have a daughter. A baby. Tiny tyke. Cute as she can be. And my mom watches her when I work.”
Mia’s jaw fell wide open. Ding, ding, ding. That was what he wanted to see. Mia was dumbstruck—and pretty as hell—but with nothing sassy to say. One of his prouder moments of the day.
Still, his gut churned, anxious over his revelations. He was stupid to say this much. Yet, somehow he needed her validation. He cast a glance her way, hoping for her reaction to justify his trust.
“I didn’t know.” Mia shifted on the vinyl car seat, crossing her ankles, and crunching an empty fast food wrapper.
“Why would you know?”
“You don’t seem like the fatherly type.”
“I bet I don’t seem like a lot of things.”
She gaped. Score one for Team Winters. He couldn’t shake his grin. Hell, if he’d known he could smile this much. His cheeks hurt. They were possibly the only muscle he didn’t work out on the regular.
“And the baby’s mother is?”
“It’s complicated.” The answer was an automatic defense mechanism. His mouth again spoke before his mind gave it the okay to proceed. His attitude was meant to protect his baby but served only to deflate Mia.
She sat still, hands folded in her lap, awaiting a simple explanation. Her therapist brain must’ve been in psychoanalytic overdrive. Simple was the furthest thing from the truth. He was already facing deep waters. Time to swan dive. “My line of work leads me straight to hell on a better than average day.”
Mia watched him in the dark car. He changed lanes needlessly, rubbing the back of his neck, then checked all his mirrors again, adjusting the rearview even though it was fine. Nerves punched, and he thought about backpedaling. “I like to keep my private life private.”
She still didn’t say anything. Must’ve been the therapist in her working him over. And, boy, she was good. He could barely keep the story contained. He fidgeted with the temperature controls and scanned the radio stations. Nothing but static. Stupid mountains. Mia remained quiet, and he couldn’t find anything to do other than recount the story. Ears over asshole, Winters dove into the truth.
“We busted up a very bad situation. Human traffickers, sex trade fuckers. There weren’t a lot of girls we could save, but we got some safe, back to the States. Everyone picked up new identities. Except one lady. A girl, in all honesty. She wouldn’t. Her name was Vanessa, and she was a beauty queen look-alike with a brass set of— She was a tough one. Kind of like you.” He paused, pissed his mouth ran off again before the brain gave a thumbs-up. “Anyway, she wasn’t going to give up her life. College. Friends. Though she had no family to speak of. Little did I know, she was pregnant. No idea who the father was. They did bad things to her.”
“That’s horrible.” Mia was a thousand notches quieter than when she doled out her quips.
“Vanessa went back to college in Cali, and that was the last time I heard from her. A few months later, California Child Protective Services showed up on my doorstep, newborn and diaper bag in tow. Vanessa died mysteriously. She apparently listed me as the father. And in her will, she left a key to a safety deposit box.”
Mia didn’t say a word. He wasn’t even sure she was breathing.
“You tell me how many college girls write out a will. None. She knew those fuckers tracked her. She knew if anything happened to her that baby would be safe with me. I found a note in the safety deposit box explaining everything to me. So that’s who I love. My mom and my daughter.”
Static played on the radio. He didn’t make a move to change the dial, concentrating on the road. It was the first time he told the story to a stranger. Right now, she was anything but. Anxiety gave way to relief. Somehow, he was content in his decision to enlighten Mia.
She slid both her warm hands over his nearest forearm. His skin tingled and the rush carried into his chest.
“Colby, I was way off base. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no way you’d know. Anyway, Clara’s single-digits months old. She’s my world. And I’m lucky to have my mom and trustworthy peeps around. That trust now extends to you. It’s better you know anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
He’d have to clue her in to his op plan eventually. What a plan…if it could be called that.
“’Cause I’m bringing you to my place until we figure out what the hell is going on. It’d be a shade past awkward if I roll up, and all of the sudden, you have to hang with my family.”
“We’re going to your home?” Her fingers clenched, her nails biting into him.
He ignored her reaction and smiled in the dark. “It’s the safest place I know. I have to stash us off the grid. I’ve never brought anyone there before, other than family and the team, so this is an adventure for both of us.”
***
If Mia had guessed what type of person Colby was, she would’ve been wrong. If she guessed what would transpire after deciding to get that disk in Kentucky and go for a cross-country ride with him, she’d have been wrong on that account also. No, actually, she’d have been dead.
They barreled down the highway, on the way to his home. To his family. She shook off a shudder. No one would describe her as family oriented. Family conjured up the worst memories, and even in her therapy practice, she held her nose when discussing it. What kind of psychologist did that make her? Not one worthy of the distinctions she somehow pulled off.
Then again, her family wasn’t on the agenda. He wasn’t trying to enmesh her into his, nor was he taking her home. He was keeping her safe. Keeping her alive. Right about now, that was worthy of a champagne toast and kiss on the lips. Or cheeks. Cheeks would be safer around him.
Exhaustion clouded her mind, but still, she studied him, thinking of their kisses. He concentrated on the dark highway, only the dashboard lights illuminating the chiseled hardness in his jaw. It looked more than capable of taking a punch. He was none the worse from earlier. And those lips. They promised to keep her safe. The whole act was… attractive. In an evolutionary sense. Women were attracted to alpha males for biologic reasons.
Besides, he wasn’t her type. Safe and stable worked just fine. Though his callous, foreboding act was interesting. She’d give him that. Add that to his impermeable wall breaking down, well, it made her want to curl up in his arms. This is insane. But psychologically speaking, her reaction made sense.
Dang his bad boy charm.
Heat crawled up her neck, and her nipples tightened. What she wouldn’t do to feel his kiss again. She brushed her fingers over her mouth. It tingled with his memory. The adrenaline had disappeared, but the desire stayed alive. Too bad he wouldn’t kiss her like that again. Men like him used women to expend energy. The action was gone, and his interest in her morphed into the sexual equivalent of oatmeal. Tasteless, colorless, and only appetizing if starving. With that understanding, her want froze and eyes sealed tight against the sight of him in the dim dashboard light.