As long as he keeps my condition a secret and the antidote locked in his safe, I can’t leave.
Where was the safe? Did she have access to its location? Were guards posted in every room?
There might’ve been guards where she met Badell for dinner, but it was just the two of them talking and eating. The discussion focused on business—police activities, competitor secrets, and weapons suppliers. If Tate were a government spy, the information would’ve been gold. But he didn’t give a shit about Tiago Badell’s dirty affairs.
The entirety of his concern focused on the brown-eyed beauty who was sitting with a man who could kill her on a whim. Meanwhile, Tate paced her apartment with knots the size of Texas tying up his insides.
When she finally left the compound, he turned off the light, stood behind the front door, and listened to her footsteps through the receiver. When Van called to tell him she was in the alley, he silenced the phone and waited.
The seconds felt like a marathon—sprinting pulse, labored breaths, the urgent need to cross the finish line.
She was his finish line, and when she opened the door, it took every ounce of his self-control to remain silent and still.
Close the door, Lucia.
The instant she did, he launched…right into the barrel of a gun in his face.
“It’s me,” he whispered into the darkness.
“What are you—?”
Without warning, she dropped the Beretta in his hands and covered her mouth. Then she ran through the unlit room, falling with a thump near the toilet.
“Lucia?” He holstered the gun and searched for the light switch.
When he found it, the sound of retching shuddered the air.
CHAPTER 15
“Shit.” A surge of panic sent Tate racing toward Lucia’s doubled-over body as she emptied her dinner into the toilet.
The guards would be outside on the street, probably out of hearing range. But just in case, he would have to keep his voice soft.
“Did you get your medicine this morning?” He dropped to his knees beside her and gathered her hair.
“Yeah.” She moaned weakly with her head in her hands and elbows wobbling on the seat. “Nighttime is always the worst.”
He stroked her back, vibrating with anger at his own helplessness. “What can I do?”
She vomited again, and tears streaked down her pallid face. “I’m sorry.”
His chest caved in. Why the fuck was she apologizing?
Her arms dropped, and her head hung over the toilet, swinging back and forth and plopping tears into the bowl. “I raped a man this morning.”
Fucking Christ. This was wrong. Wrong timing. Wrong place. Wrong everything. As each wrongful second passed, he felt more and more useless.
“You just puked the only thing you’ve eaten today.” He hit the toilet lever and glimpsed specks of blood before it flushed away. “Goddammit!”
There was no drug store. No urgent care. Nothing in this apartment to help her. There wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do. Nothing!
“Please, don’t be mad,” she whispered.
“I’m not mad.” He was so fucking livid he couldn’t think straight. “What hurts?”
She sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth. “I probably look like the living dead, but I feel better.”
Her complexion was ghost-white, her eyes sunken and bruised, and she appeared to have lost ten pounds she didn’t have to lose. But despite it all…
“You’re beautiful.” He touched a knuckle to her chin.
Her pretty, pixie-like features contorted in misery, and her chest heaved in sudden bursts, as if she were swallowing down a sob. “You’re lying.”
“Lucia—”
“Don’t.” She made a wretched sound and pushed him away.
He wouldn’t budge and instead reached for her.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.” She twisted, giving him her back. “Please, Tate. Just go. Go back to Texas.”
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’ll leave you.” He shifted around her and got in her face. “We’re doing this. Together. Us. Get that through your stubborn head.”
She laughed, a painfully broken sound that sent more tears skipping down her hollow cheeks.
“What?” he asked softly.
“Us? What does that even mean?”
“It means I’m staying—”
“For how long?”
He wanted to sling her over his shoulder like a damn caveman and take off tonight, right fucking now.
She must’ve read it in his eyes, because she heaved a frustrated breath. “Let’s say I left with you. Hypothetically. What happens next?”
“I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” His pulse accelerated as he edged closer and brushed the hair out of her face. “We can stay with your sister in Colombia or go home to Texas. We’ll get you healthy and safe.”
“Then what?” More tears brimmed her eyes.
“Then we can…I don’t know…get a Netflix subscription, rescue a dog, take a road trip to wine country, whatever people do. I don’t give a fuck as long as you’re well and we’re far away from here.”
“You talk about us and we in terms of a relationship. In terms of always.”
Goddamn, woman. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation.
“You’re in love with Camila,” she said.
“This isn’t…” Jesus fuck, he wasn’t pursuing a relationship with anyone. His focus was on here and now and keeping Lucia alive.
“It’s not what?” she asked.
“We’re not doing this right now.” He gripped her elbow. “Can you stand?”
“You just said we’re doing this. Together.” She stared at the floor and didn’t move. “I want to understand.”
“You’re right.” He closed his eyes and gave himself a second to calm down. “We can talk about the future, but right now, I’m focused on your health and the danger you’re in. You’re hurting, and it’s…” Helpless rage locked up his fists, and he breathed through it. “It’s not in my DNA to sit back and let you dictate how this will go.”
“Okay,” she said numbly.
“Tell me what you need.” He bent down to capture her gaze.
Her chin trembled, and she hugged her waist, shaking her head. “Why do you have to be so nice?”
It looked like she needed a hug more than anything else.
He pulled her onto his lap and embraced her tightly. “You’re about to spend some time with me, and you’ll find out just how not nice I am.”
“You might be crazier than I am.” She looped her arms around his neck and buried her nose against his throat. “Thank you for the food.”
It was comforting, in an unfamiliar way, to hold her like this. It was also exactly what he needed, and he hadn’t even realized it. She had the ability to hurt his heart and put it at ease all at once.
“I’ll bring you more to eat,” he said. “I’m also going to install slide bolts on both of those doors.”
“You don’t need to—”
“I’m sleeping here from now on. Until we leave.”
Her muscles tensed, as if she were bracing to argue. Then she seemed to deflate with her next exhale. “I need to brush my teeth and take a shower.”
He carried her to the sink and prepared her toothbrush. “Did you sleep today?”
“Yeah. How did you know I was at the market?”
“I’m watching you, Lucia. Get used to it.”
She surprised him with a simple nod and turned her attention to the toothbrush.
As she cleaned her teeth, he slid the heels off her feet, removed the gun from her waistband, and grabbed the second Beretta from his. Then he set everything beside her clothes in the corner.
The bugs on her guns were too conspicuous. It was only a matter of time before she or someone else noticed them. They also had a limited battery life and would need to be recharged every few days.