She shouldn’t thank him. He was going to seduce her for all the wrong reasons. It would ultimately save her. But if she ever found out all the reasons he’d lured her between the sheets, she would hate him forever.
Nothing like having your balls in a vise…
Zy bit back a curse and headed to find Trees, who stood near the coffeepot with Kane and Walker, discussing strategy. “Those fuckers we work for left me in charge.”
One-Mile cursed. Trees raised a brow. Clearly, they thought him being temporary head honcho was as ridiculous as he did. Getting those two to follow his orders would be harder than herding cats. The verdict was still out on Kane, but the bosses hired a certain breed of warrior. Zy doubted very much the new guy would be cut from a different cloth.
So he changed the subject. “Where are we with your trip to Florida?”
“We have a problem,” Trees finally said. “We don’t know exactly where we’re going. Valeria came home from a concert last night and realized someone had broken into her safe house. They ransacked it, too. There were signs of a struggle…but her sister and her son were nowhere to be found.”
“Logan said as much.”
“If Laila got out, she left in a hurry, because her phone, wallet, and money were all still there. But if the cartel took her…”
“If they did, why would they have kidnapped Kimber this morning, demanding to know Valeria’s location? They already have hostages they can better use as leverage.”
Good point. “Because they want to fish Valeria out fast and they’re leaving no stone unturned?”
“Maybe.” It was the most likely scenario Zy could see, but Trees obviously disliked not knowing.
That made two of them. “So no one has heard from Laila?”
One-Mile shook his head. “But she has my number. When I left Florida, I made sure she knew how to contact me.”
But if she didn’t take her phone when she fled, how could she? “Unless you hear from her, we need to come up with a plan. If Laila escaped, every hour she and baby Jorge are floating out there without help or resources is another hour they’re likely to be scooped up by the remnants of Emilo Montilla’s gang—if they haven’t been already. Do we know who’s running the show now that Walker put bullets in his head?”
“I made a few friends while I spent a month down there, trying to off the son of a bitch.”
That sounded unlikely. One-Mile wasn’t usually nice enough to make friends with anyone, but Zy bit anyway. “And?”
“I’ve heard that some underlings inside Emilo’s compound are trying to seize power…but there’s also gossip that his father intends to take over and oust anyone who gets in his way.”
That made sense. Emilo had been like a gator—lazing on the shore, enjoying the sun, and sinking his teeth into anyone who wandered too close, especially if they dared to question his authority. But he’d been small-time compared to his father. Geraldo Montilla was a legend for his predatory ruthlessness. The man was pure shark.
Zy’s guess? Geraldo had given the splinter faction to his son, mostly so Emilo would have something to do, because he’d known his only son lacked the balls to run the larger Tierra Caliente organization. But now that his son was gone? No way would the narcotics king turn over any part of his organization to Emilo’s lackeys. “Makes sense. Do we know where Valeria is holed up?”
“No,” Trees answered. “I have a number to call, probably a burner phone. When we get to the Orlando area, I’m supposed to arrange a meet point.”
“And we’re certain she still hasn’t heard from her sister?”
“Yeah, but she says she keeps getting calls from an unfamiliar number. She’s been afraid to answer it, but I told her she should next time her phone rings.”
“Good call.” Maybe Laila had found another phone. “Keep me posted.”
As the others nodded and stepped toward their desks, a phone buzzed. Zy searched for the source of the sound and zeroed in on One-Mile, who pulled his device from his pocket.
“Walker.” The sniper listened to the frantic, high-pitched voice on the other end, then frowned. “Wait. Wait! I don’t speak Spanish.” He pulled the phone from his ear and glanced at the others. “Who the fuck speaks Spanish?”
Tension gripped Zy. He didn’t, but he was more focused on the caller. “Who is it?”
“Laila, but she’s crying and too upset to speak English, so I can’t understand a fucking word she’s saying. Brea will have my balls if I don’t help a woman who obviously needs it.”
Walker didn’t care about staying on the good side of many people, but he’d do whatever it took to keep the pretty, pregnant preacher’s daughter happy.
“I do. I’ll talk to her.” Kane held out his hand.