She considered the plan. “You think he’ll send Carlos?”
“If he’s on their side, yes.”
“And then we bust Flores and arrest Carlos.”
“Right.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before slowly letting it push past his lips. He was avoiding eye contact. What else was he avoiding? The truth? She didn’t want to believe that.
True, they’d only spent a short while together, but she liked to think they’d come to an understanding. They’d talked about personal things, done personal things. Heck, she’d told him details she never would have told the man she’d called her husband. About her father, her mother, even her self-hatred over the past.
She touched his arm. “You are going to arrest him, right? Or is there more truth than fiction to the story I’m feeding Flores?”
Still, he didn’t look at her. His lips thinned and tension crackled in the air. Finally, his lashes lifted and he fixed her in a level stare. “I’ll try, Nicole, but if it comes down to him escaping…he won’t be escaping. I won’t let him walk away.”
Nicole felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She’d asked for the truth, and he’d given it to her. Now she wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. She didn’t want to be faced with answering questions later and having to choose Constantine over the truth.
When she said nothing, he opened the compartment between the seats and pulled out a phone. He dialed Flores’s number to set up Flores for Nicole’s call. When the call ended, Constantine offered the phone to Nicole.
She reached for it, but he didn’t let it go. “Carlos will hunt us down and kill us, Nicole. He can’t go free or we’ll never be free.” He released his grip on the phone.
Didn’t he see? If she had any more blood on her hands, she wouldn’t be free, either.
But she didn’t say that. She turned away from him and faced forward. “What’s the number?”
He didn’t immediately respond, the heaviness of his stare bearing down on her with leaden intensity. “Nicole—”
Shoving her hair behind her ears, she cast him a sideways look. “What’s the number?” If he dared tell her what to say again, she’d quit the whole scheme.
He gave her the number and zipped his lips. Smart man. She dialed and did her best job of acting panicked.
Flores questioned her, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “How did you get this number?”
“I heard him call you. He went into a quick stop and left the phone. I thumbed through the numbers.” She hesitated. “Oh, he’s coming back. Pier thirty-nine. A boat called Adiós. We’re only about an hour away.” She disconnected and let out a breath before handing the phone to Constantine. “Now what?”
He gave her a steady look. “You did good.”
She bit back an urge to ask why he would think she would do otherwise. “Now what?”
He shifted in his seat and started the engine. “Now we go get those supplies, find a place to wait, and see who shows up.”
Chapter Fifteen
IN THE SHORT DRIVE to the pier, they didn’t speak. Constantine didn’t know why he’d tried to explain himself to Nicole. She didn’t like lies, and it wasn’t his problem if she couldn’t deal with the truth. So why did it feel like his problem? He quickly whipped the car into a parking spot that offered a view of the boat. It also left them exposed. Not that he had options.
The parking garage across from the pier had been closed because of the approaching storm, and he didn’t have time to waste finding another space. Carlos would be close by; he operated out of Padre. Exactly why they’d come here in the first place. Carlos would never expect him on his home turf.
Constantine debated. Leave Nicole in the car or bring her with him? A debate that ended when he admitted he couldn’t risk her being in danger without him by her side.
He reached over Nicole, grinding his teeth against the sweetness of those barely parted thighs. Opening the glove compartment, he pulled out a gun, slammed the compartment shut and handed the weapon to Nicole.
“Where am I supposed to hide this?” she asked, referring to her thin shorts and T-shirt.
Good point. When all else fails, improvise. He grabbed the Taco Bell bag and dumped the contents. “Use this.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief, but she took the bag. “A purse would be so much better.” Her gaze skimmed his shorts. “What about you?”
“Bag in the back,” he commented. “I want in and out of the boat in no more than ten minutes.”
She nodded. “Got it. I was thinking. How are you so certain that Carlos himself will be here today? Couldn’t Flores send someone else? Maybe Carlos isn’t near enough to get here in time?”
The question he’d expected her to ask before now. She wouldn’t like the answer. “I’m a gambler, remember?”