Well, that went well.

I rested my head against the back wall of the elevator and closed my eyes. No one could ever call me a pussy, but I stood in front of my friend and boss and took his wrath like a man. As his second in command, it’d been my responsibility to keep him informed of everything I’d learned—especially since it involved another high-ranking lieutenant. But when it came to Leighton, the lines between my loyalties became shaded with gray areas I couldn’t explain.

Not that it mattered. Val wasn’t interested in hearing my justifications. He wanted action and consequence, all dealt by my hand for allowing the situation to escalate to the point it had. I’d accepted his demands, and if I had any brains left in my head, I’d be carrying them out right now.

Instead, that gray line of loyalty drove my SUV right back to The Houstonian. I owed Leighton an explanation of what had to be done, and I wanted to kiss her one more time. There was a good chance I’d never get the opportunity again, and I needed nothing left unsaid between us.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival and as soon as the doors opened, I headed toward our suite, trying to piece together the words in my head to make her understand.

“Leighton, we need to talk.” The suite was silent, and after checking everywhere, I stood in the middle of the living room gazing at the hardwood floor. I hoped to hell she was having lunch downstairs or indulging in the resort spa because ignoring Val’s commands again to go searching all over Houston for her would be suicide.

I dialed the front desk and barked out the question I already knew the answer to. “Did my wife leave the property earlier today?”

“Yes, Mrs. Alvarez left not long after you did,” the attendant confirmed. “I offered to call a car service for her, but she seemed quite impatient.”

Val insisted on checking us in under aliases. I thought the extra precaution had been unnecessary but didn’t question it.

I managed a mumbled, “thank you,” before slamming the receiver down.

“Fuck!” I yelled, grabbing my hair in my hands. This was the last damn thing I needed. What the hell was she thinking?

But her disappearing act wasn’t what pissed me off the most. It was her impressive acting skills. The way she’d acted so tired, resting her head on the couch, all the while waiting for me to leave so she could act on whatever vigilante shit she’d concocted in her head.

I paced the room. She didn’t know what she was doing, and it was going to get her killed. Letting out a roar, I punched the wall. I’d take Val’s bullet, but I couldn’t stand by and let her take one too.

Grabbing my keys and phone, I’d just opened the door when my phone rang. I considered ignoring it, but when I saw the number on the caller ID, I answered.

“You have thirty seconds, Bright.”

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t mess up,” he said, stuttering over his words.

I stopped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your wife.” Bright cleared his throat. “She told me the order came from you, but now I’m not so sure.” As he recounted his conversation with Leighton, the vein in my temple swelled, and I gripped the molding over the door so hard, I almost cracked the wood.

“Don’t talk to anyone else.” I didn’t trust myself to say more.

I took my anger out on the road, pushing the limits of the Tahoe to speeds it was never meant to hit. Eight times I called Leighton’s phone. Eight times it kicked straight into voice mail.

My tires squealed as I slammed on the brakes in front of Caliente. I didn’t even bother pulling around back. I didn’t give a shit who saw me. Startled patrons gasped as I kicked the door open and roared his name as I stomped through the cantina and toward his office.

“Reyes! Get your fucking ass out here!”

The waitress who’d tried to handle Leighton when she was piss-ass drunk met me in the hallway. She wasn’t smiling.

“Where’s Emilio?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, wringing her hands. “I don’t know where anyone is. Sarah never showed up for work. She didn’t call or anything. Emilio was already pissed, but he got a phone call then ran out of here earlier mad as hell. No one has seen him since.”

I walked away during the second wave of her rant. I’d heard enough. Grabbing my phone, I dialed while climbing into the Tahoe. Once he picked up, there wasn’t time for a greeting.

“Emilio has Leighton,” I said, slamming my foot on the gas.