Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
She had nearly drifted off when a car with squeaking brakes stopped near the Ferrari. The sedan’s interior light came on as a man exited the passenger door and slammed it shut. Another man remained behind the wheel of the idling car.
Quickly, she dashed off a text. Keys are under the driver’s-side floor mat.
It took a few minutes before the man circling the classic car looked at his phone, then he bent for the keys. That told her that neither of the men sent to retrieve the Ferrari was the informant. That also told her he had some power and position in the organization since he had men of his own.
The lackey started the sports car, then dashed off a text to someone. Three minutes later, Victor’s phone lit up with Kimber’s location and a schematic of the compound, which the Edgingtons had been desperately seeking for nearly two weeks. Still, she had to be cautious.
She typed out a question. How do I know Kimber is really where you say she is?
Moments later, a picture of the woman herself, all matted auburn hair and big, terrified eyes filled the screen. Laila had never met Kimber, but her heart went out to the wife and mother suddenly torn away from her comfort, her family, and her life. Kimber was holding a phone displaying a map that pinpointed the location the man had told her.
As a precaution, she will be moved tomorrow or the next day. Montilla does that often. That is beyond my control.
Laila would do everything she could to ensure Kimber was rescued before then.
Now where is Victor Ramos? the man on the other end demanded.
Since she had the information she needed, Laila answered in kind. She typed out the name of the motel, which she had noted on her way out. Our business is now concluded. I will not answer again.
Yes, you will, Laila. As you pointed out, it is good to be a hero. Montilla saw the video of you helping Ramos steal the car. He wants blood. My boss would definitely think me a hero if I brought you to him.
Laila’s blood ran cold. She sat frozen, not daring to reply. When the men who’d come for the Ferrari both started coming toward her, guns in hand, she started the truck and floored it, putting as much distance between her and them as possible.
Blindly, she flew down dark roads, heedless of where she was going, simply relieved she’d been too fast for them to follow. But she needed to ditch this truck, to find safety, and to tell EM Security where to find Kimber before Montilla moved her. She had to return to the villa outside of La Pesca and try to retrieve Trees’s guns and her clothes. And as much as it killed her, she would have to send Trees the email meant to break his heart and hope that he hated her too much to ever want to save her.
A few hours later, Trees found himself sitting beside Logan in a rented van, rumbling away from an airstrip northeast of San Luis Potosí in tense silence. The bosses had called fifteen minutes after Laila sent her backstabbing video and told him that his mission to find her was on hold. They needed all hands tonight to rescue Kimber.
Fuck.
Of course the bosses wanted to save their sister. But the timing goddamn chafed. Laila was out there, double-crossing him and EM Security. Hunter, Logan, and Joaquin had to know he’d been the fidiot who allowed that to happen. So he had to be the one to stop her. But Trees itched to hunt her down, tie her up, and extract some fucking answers. After she confessed when and how she’d decided to play him so he wouldn’t make the foolish mistake of trusting her again, he would do whatever necessary to exorcise her from his stupid, shattered heart.
While Matt had driven them the 250 miles from the doctor’s office to meet Logan, Trees had tried to close his eyes. But the visual of Laila being touched by Victor Ramos—and her obvious pleasure—replayed through his brain in an endless, destructive loop. Fury boiled his blood and jacked up his mood. Sleep wasn’t happening. His one consolation? If he couldn’t get his pound of flesh from Laila now, he’d at least get to fuck up assholes pushing drugs.
That thought had kept him going until he’d stood to greet Logan at the airstrip. Then he’d puked everywhere.
“You still look green,” Logan remarked an hour later, steadying the wheel as he drove down an empty highway just after three a.m. Once their plane had landed, he’d sent the rest of the team ahead. Matt was now sacked out in the back of the van.
“If you’re looking to get laid, flattery won’t work.”