“Perfect.”
I explain to Sparrow what’s going on, and we agree that the Appaloosa, who Ant has started calling Domino, should be fine in the stall for now. He and Luke agree to hang out with Lynn while we greet our newest guest.
10
JAVIER
Watching this heavily tattooed man be so gentle with such a frightened horse did things to my heart. I can’t remember a time I ever felt this way—or even allowed myself to feel this way.
Thankfully, Levy and I were very clear that last night was just a bit of stress relief. No need to make things more complicated than they are.
As we walk toward the bunkhouse, a Jeep comes tearing onto the property, driven by the man with the long blond hair who took my cheek swab that first night. The one who saved Levy’s life. Anders.
Next to him is a small kid, maybe nine or ten, strapped into the passenger side, cackling wildly. They pull to a quick stop in front of the bunkhouse, showering us with gravel and dirt. Anders grimaces and hops out of the Jeep.
“Sorry! Bad habit. Totally working on it.”
He goes over to the passenger side and helps the young kid out.
Having heard a few Anders stories over the last couple of days, it all makes sense now. Doing what I do, you figure out pretty quickly who’s sane and who isn’t. Almost as quickly as you figure out who’s in it for the right reasons.
I don’t even know the guy, but I can already tell Anders is in it for the right reasonsandthat every last screw in his head is loose.
Anders takes one look at me, and it’s as if a light bulb’s been shoved up his ass.
“Gasparín!” he exclaims, using the nickname the traffickers gave me. Casper—because I was good at disappearing into thin air.
He comes over and gives me a back-pounding hug as though greeting a long-lost friend. “I apologize for not recognizing you before!”
“How do you know that name?” I ask, wincing from the force of his hug.
“When we ran your background, one of our analysts put two and two together. You are the stuff of legends, man! I can’t believe our Ant is your hero origin story.”
“Uh, thanks. I knew about Charlie and Erik too. This feels like the world’s most imperfect hero conference.”
Anders cracks up, pounding my back again. “Totally. Oh! I can’t forget my purpose for being here,” he says, tilting his head to the little boy clutching his hand. “This is Elias.”
Ant starts speaking with him in Spanish, introducing himself and the rest of us. Elias lets go of Anders’ hand to touch Ant’s leather wristband, a gift from Charlie that I’ve discovered he never takes off. Ant knows the drill, asking a few neutral questions to get Elias to open up. One of his answers is so disturbing that I have to check in with Anders to make sure it’s right.
“He’s thirteen years old?”
Anders’ lips thin. “Yep. Undernourished. Kept purposefully small for his age.”
We both look at Ant, and I realize with some horror that when Ant was thirteen, he was already two years into this kind of hell. He was probably as small as this boy here.
As Ant and Elias continue to talk, I lean over to Anders. “Erik is your cousin, right?”
Anders nods.
“He tell you about this list he’s working on for Ant?”
Another nod.
“What do you think my chances are for getting a copy of it?”
“I can get it to you, brother, but you should not go after those people.”
I raise my brows and point to the little boy. “Give me one good reason why.”
