“Fuck,” he mutters.
“See why we can’t just send them back without doing a little research?”
He nods reluctantly.
“You didn’t mention who you were going after.”
He blinks at me, making it clear he won’t tell me what his end goal is. I’m not surprised. I just need to make sure he’s on my side.
“Lola has a buyer coming in a couple of days.”
He stiffens.
“This man is as close as I can get her to Costa Rica, and that’s her goal.”
“The government is fucking crazy. What kind of organization would put women in these types of situations?”
“Say that to her face, and she’s likely to kick you in the nuts for even insinuating that she can’t handle herself. She’s a good agent. She’ll be okay.”
“Until she isn’t,” he mutters.
“Until she isn’t,” I agree.
“Lay out the full plan for Megan.”
“I’m going to carry her out in a body bag.” He winces. “I know, but I also know there are eyes all over this house, and I wouldn’t put it past staff to sell some intel to make a little money on the side. You know as well as I do that once we move on, this house will still be used for the exact same thing. This house came with the contract with the women Gonzalo Sevilla supplies.”
“This motherfucker will be burned to the ground once we’re done.”
I give him a smile. “I think I’m going to like working with you.”
Chapter 15
Cara
“What?” I ask around a mouth full of crackers and spinach dip.
Javier shakes his head. He doesn’t stop staring at me, but he doesn’t answer either.
I caved. Just like I knew I would. He offered some of his lunch the third time I was in here yesterday, but when I discovered that he was eating the exact same things that were being brought down to us, something inside of me just snapped. I resisted the food he placed in front of me for all of five minutes before attacking the plate like a hyena going after an injured zebra.
“Maybe slow down?” he says as I shovel in another mouthful of delicious food.
He was right that first day. Lupe is an amazing cook.
“Where are we?”
“The office.”
I frown. Why did I even think he’d actually tell me what I want to know?
“What happened to Megan?”
He doesn’t answer this question either, but his demeanor changes slightly. I only recognize the shift from keeping such a close eye on him every time I’m brought in here.
“The others are asking. Did she die?”
“She was starving herself.”
“And she’s no good to you if she’s dead? So what? You sent her to a hospital?” It hits me that he used past tense. “She’s dead?”
He pulls his eyes from mine, but once again he doesn’t explain. I honestly have no expectation for him to answer me. I don’t know why I even bothered.
Maybe it’s the way Lola and Angel no longer seem like enemies. Or the way Angel has never really seemed bad and his demeanor toward Javier has changed over the last couple of days.
I’ve been paying more attention to Angel and Lola. I caught them whispering to each other this morning, and either I’m crazy or she was fucking flirting with him.
Maybe she’s crazy. She did claim Javier as hers, saying that no matter what he does to her there are always worse men.
Is it Stockholm syndrome? I’ve wondered this about myself more than once, but now that I think back to being excited to leave my cage to come up here today, I’m thinking it might be true even more than ever. Who in their right mind would be happy to visit the psycho who played a hand in abducting her? One that keeps her continually locked in a basement cage along with now four other women?
Someone unhinged, that’s who.
Me.
I’ve lost my damn mind.
I drop the cracker back on the plate and sit back. Javier glances over, his eyes dropping from my face to the plate of food sitting in front of me, but he doesn’t say anything. The man has silent manipulation down to an art.
The silence grows thick around us, and I wonder if I made a mistake by not fighting Angel. I may be misreading the situation, but did I lose the chance to escape? If he’s not as bad as I thought, then maybe he won’t chase me as hard if I try to bolt out the front door. I know Miguel is still around and that lunatic would probably lunge at the chance to teach me a lesson.
I stiffen when Javier stands from his desk chair and crosses the room to sit in front of me on the table.
His dark, shaggy hair falls into his eyes, but it only takes a practiced twitch of his head to put it back into place. His full lips turn down in a frown. Why in the ever-loving fuck am I noticing his lips?