“And you will get it as soon as you learn where Montilla is. In the meantime, I will walk to the village, blend in, and see if any of his men have come looking for you.”
Victor tried to dissect her intentions with his stare. “And what then?”
“If it is not safe here, we leave and take the car with us. But I do not think it wise to keep it in the truck, sitting in plain sight. It looks out of place among vacationers and attracts attention you do not need.”
A grudging grunt told her that he hadn’t thought of that, but he didn’t disagree. “When you reach town, go see Gustavo Pastrana. He is a mechanic. Tell him I need a favor and to make me space in his warehouse.”
As much as Laila didn’t want to associate with others on Victor’s behalf, she had to appear like his ally, and it gave her an excuse to put miles between her and Victor. “All right.”
“While you are in town, pick up food from the market. I am starving.”
Laila wanted to remind him that she was his partner, not his slave. But that argument would be lost on him. Instead, she lowered her guns and chose a tactic he would understand. “I cannot be your eyes and ears in town if I return here.”
He mulled that over, then pulled out some bills from his pocket. “True. Besides, others who were once loyal to Emilo will be arriving soon. You go buy some clothes. A hat, too. Disguise yourself. Find a place to stay. Blend with the locals and listen in on them. No one will see you as a threat.”
As long as Montilla’s hitmen couldn’t tell at a glance that she was the woman who had distracted the security guards so Victor could steal the car, she should be safe. Not only would the sicarios never see her as a threat, they wouldn’t even look at her twice if she seemed like just one of the townsfolk. “That will be best. With this money, I will also buy a phone so I can call you if I hear anything important.”
Victor glared at her in warning. “Remember… If you betray me, your sister will pay dearly. You know I am well versed in causing pain.”
He was, along with degradation, humiliation, and terror. “I will do anything to spare Valeria.”
The smile that stretched across Victor’s face was nothing short of superior. “Go.”
Laila didn’t give him time to change his mind. Despite the fact the sun would set in less than two hours, she went in search of her clothes and the flip-flops she’d found abandoned at a park on their way to Orlando, then hustled out the door.
The February afternoon was temperate, much warmer than Louisiana. She’d missed Mexico’s warmth and the tropical vegetation where Trees lived.
But if you had a choice between the sun and the man, which would you choose?
Trees, always.
The sun sank lower as she reached the sleepy little village. Laila found a woman selling clothes from a table leaning against the side of a run-down building. She negotiated the purchase of a flowing, lace-trimmed skirt and a matching blouse, both in white. On the next street over, she picked up more underwear, some toiletries, a floppy hat, sunglasses, and a burner phone. After she donned her new things in the store’s restroom, she spent a little more money on a street taco that tasted like heaven and pocketed the rest of the cash. It bothered her to take anything from Victor, but she was doing a job for him—watching his ass. That should pay well. As far as she was concerned, they were even.
As she ate, Laila set up the phone, then stared at the plastic device longingly, but she didn’t dare reach out to her sister until she secured a location for the stolen car and found a place to lay her head for the night. And she couldn’t tell Valeria where she’d gone. The less her sister knew, the less danger she would be in.
What about Trees? Will you call him later, too?
As much as she ached to, no. What would she say? How could she possibly apologize? Or atone?
With the final rays of sunlight, she finished eating and sauntered up one of the town’s narrow streets, looking for both Gustavo Pastrana and a place to stay. The mechanic was easy to find. He looked close to her age with tattoos that covered him from his neck to his fingertips. He eyed her with blatant appreciation that made her uncomfortable—until she dropped Victor’s name. Then he was suddenly all business.
“Is he in town?” Gustavo asked.
Laila had no idea how much Victor trusted this mechanic. His ink suggested he’d been more than a little involved with a cartel or two in the past. She didn’t remember him from Emilo’s compound, but that meant nothing. Her late brother-in-law had employed men all over his territory. And if Victor intended to let this man hide a rival’s fifty-million-dollar car, didn’t that suggest he trusted Gustavo on some level?
“Soon,” she hedged just in case, offering a smile to an older man who passed them, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Papá, finish cleaning inside. I will take care of everything out here,” Gustavo told his father in rapid-fire Spanish.
The older man merely scowled and nodded before disappearing inside.
Through a window, Laila watched the old man wipe down a counter and reach for the ringing phone as Gustavo went on. “Don’t mind him. He is getting grumpy with old age. So what does Victor need?”
“Do you have a space in your warehouse to store a car?”
Gustavo lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “What can you tell me about the vehicle?”
Why did he want to know? “Nothing. He simply sent me ahead to ask if you had room.”
The mechanic looked her up and down. “He is fucking you, I presume. You’re a pretty, tasty treat, after all.”
Everything inside Laila urged her to step back. Hell, to turn and leave. But since she’d been Victor’s possession once, she knew his expectations. So would this man, most likely. Cowering from any of his friends would only earn her ridicule and punishment, even allowing this man access to her body. She would be better off playing along.
“Naturally. Can you help him?”
He took a drag of his cigarette and blew out his smoke. “Yeah, tell him to bring it.”
She nodded, hoping the car would be secure here. “I will let him know.”
Laila thanked him, then quickly called Victor with the news.
“Good. I’ll bring the truck,” he told her. “Are Montilla’s thugs looking for me around town?”
“I have heard nothing yet.” Though she hadn’t exactly asked, and it was entirely likely there were eyes and ears everywhere. “But I am still gathering information.”
Victor grunted, then hung up.
Grateful that was over, she wandered down the street, toward what looked like a local hotel. The pastel building was a bright, two-story structure, surrounded by lazily swaying palms. A series of tiki huts outside added to the resort-like feel. The one beside the pool seemed to double as the bar. The other, just beside it, had been set aside for relaxation and games.
She bypassed them and went in search of the office. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too expensive to stay here, since it was the closest hotel to town. The others were near the beach.
As she approached the little office with the loud air conditioner humming from the wall, she passed under an awning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of men emerge from one of the rooms. One looked well-built and athletic as he settled a hat on his head. But it was the other who caught her attention, broad and startlingly tall and achingly familiar.
Trees.
Shock sucked the air from her lungs. He was here? How had he found her? And how would she muster the strength to walk away when all she wanted to do was run into his arms?
For his sake, she had to.