Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Matias gave her a stiff shake of his head, and Nico ended the call.
With a strong, urgent gait, Nico returned to the table, eyes on his capo. “We can make it there without a refuel. Burd will drive us the rest of the way.”
“And you trust Burd?” Matias shifted to the edge of the chair.
“We’ve used him a dozen times. He’s a good falcon. But I recommend waiting a while. Maybe next week—”
Matias slammed a fist on the table, stopping her heart and knocking over several beer bottles. “We’re not fucking waiting.” He launched from the chair, taking her with him and catching her around the waist to support her stumbling steps. “Set up the appointment for tonight. Get the helicopter ready. We’re leaving immediately.”
“Tell me what’s going on.” She folded her arms across her chest, shivering against the tension in the air.
“What about the plan we discussed?” Nico scowled.
“Get everything lined up.” Matias grabbed her hand and turned toward the door.
“Hey, boss.” Chispa stood, rubbing the back of his neck as he lifted a chin in her direction. “Maybe you should sit this one out. We can do this—”
“No fucking way.” Matias pulled her into the interior living space.
Her scalp tingled. “Hold up!”
“Are you bringing her with us?” Chispa chased after him. “What if something happens while—”
“She’s going.”
“Matias!” She slammed to a stop, only to be yanked forward again by his strong grip. “Are we in danger?”
“No. We’re in a hurry. Pick up your fucking feet.”
MATIAS PRESSED HIS BACK into the plush leather of the helicopter chair. The seven-passenger light twin was built for luxury and comfort, but he was far from comfortable.
Squeezed into the cabin with the entire inner circle and battling for leg room, he felt like rubber bands were wrapped around his chest. Guns at his lower back, shoulder, and ankle dug into his skin. His hands slicked with sweat, and the woman sitting next to him glared daggers at the side of his face.
The past hour had been a whirlwind of weapons collecting, safety planning, and route mapping. Camila had followed him around his suite, huffing and demanding answers, but he’d been too focused and rushed for a sit down with her.
Now that they were in the air and heading out of the Amazon basin, he had three hours to tell her where they were going and what he’d been doing for the past ten years.
A jittery ache kicked through his stomach, and it had nothing to do with the flight. The twin engines purred quietly, and the smooth rotor system propelled the aircraft fast and seamlessly through the atmosphere. With a sticker price of eight-million dollars, he’d more than paid for a shudder-less ride.
“I thought it would be louder in here.” Camila leaned over his lap in their rear-facing seats and peered out the window into the dark sky.
“There’s a capsule between us and the airframe, and the dual-pane glass helps.”
Two rows of three seats filled the cabin, configured to face each other. The cockpit was behind him and Camila. Nico sat on her other side, talking quietly with Chispa and Picar as they bent over the tablet he held between them, studying a digital map.
Frizz sat directly across from Matias, head resting back on the seat, eyes closed, and complexion paler than usual. Matias wished the guy wouldn’t participate in these jobs, knowing how they affected him. But like Camila, Frizz was haunted by his own experiences and motivated to retaliate.
“I’m trying to be patient.” She sat back and drummed her fingers on Matias’ thigh. “Like really trying here.”
He hadn’t envisioned telling her like this. Of course, showing her had always been the plan, but he would’ve rather sat her down in private, when she was ready, and explained it all.
His stomach hardened. Fuck, what if she wasn’t ready?
He’d removed her collar last night after dinner, and she didn’t need it now, not where they were going. She wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and tennis shoes, just as he’d instructed. Everyone in the cabin donned the same look—casual, a little rugged, with footwear that wouldn’t slow them down if they needed to run.
Maybe it would be better if she went in blind. With an actual blindfold, because she would never be able to unsee what they were about to walk into.
“Why aren’t you telling me where we’re going?” She pressed her nails into the denim on his inner thigh. “And why don’t I have weapons like the rest of you?”
His breath hitched as hope warred with suspicion. Did she want to shoot him or… “Would you fight alongside us?”
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “I mean, as long as we’re not headed to some meeting place to pick up more slaves.”
Chispa coughed into his fist, and she whipped her head toward him. Matias clenched his teeth.