I stagger back until I hit the wall, then sink down to the floor. “Your brother and I are going to have a serious talk when we get back.”
“From what I was able to piece together,” she says, her voice taking on a strange mix of excitement and pain, “Luis stayed with Sosa until maybe a year before Sosa was killed. Then he disappeared. The next record of him anywhere is in Caracas right after Gil died.”
I get up and start to pace, my thoughts pinging from one possibility to the next.
Dani pulls a flash drive from her pack and plugs it into her tablet. After a couple of taps on the screen, she hands me the device showing copious notes she made before we left.
From an interview posted to the Democrática Resistencia’s blog:
Luis wasn’t always on the side of the resistance. He says he joined when a man he used to work for rose to the upper ranks of the Loma Collectivo. Question: Was this man Gil’s father?
Translation of quote from Luis reads: “The Loma Collectivo was not born from hate. Not that I could see. They wanted reform and believed Marcos Farías would be Venezuela’s redemption. I fought for them and told anyone who would listen that Farías was the ruler Venezuela needed. After he took power, his actions became militant, and I saw him for who he was. A dictator and a monster. I was branded an enemy of the Collectivo the day I joined the Democrática Resistencia, and they have repeatedly tried to silence me, but the truth cannot be silenced.”
“Dani.” I clear my throat, trying to ward off the memories of the worst day of my life. “Austin and I—along with a joint CIA-JSOC task force—spent three years of our lives trying to take down the Loma Collectivo. And you’re telling me that your birth father was a founding member?”
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Yes.” With a sigh, she moves to the window and opens the drapes, but I step in front of her and snap them shut.
“Too dangerous right now.”
“Fine.” Stalking over to her pack, she pulls out her tin of thinking putty and starts to work it between her fingers. “I never wanted to meet him, you know.” Her tone turns wistful, and her gaze is somewhere else, somewhere inside—or maybe even back home. “I have a mom and dad. Steve and Betsy were the only parents I ever needed.”
“Until…?” Pulling her back against my chest, I wrap my arms around her waist, trying to offer whatever comfort I can.
“Until this year. The anniversary of Gil’s death. I don’t know why. But all of a sudden, I justhadto know who he was. The more I read, the greater that need became until it was all I could think about. The story is about The Crypt and the fight between the Farías government and the Democrática Resistencia, but I came down here because I needed to meet the man who gave me half my DNA.”
Dani settles in my arms, and she feels so fucking good there, I keep quiet. Every time I try to talk to her I piss her off, and I don’t know how many more times I can get away with that before she cuts me out of her life for good.
“Say something.” She tips her head back to look at me, uncertainty and pain swimming in the depths of her eyes.
“We’ll stay the night. But no gym time for you. No leaving this room at all. I’ll go out and get us some dinner and connect with Leo. He can keep an ear to the ground—try to find out if we’re walking into an ambush tomorrow or not.”
Do her eyes take on a slight shimmer as she turns in my arms? My Danisaur never cries. Well, almost never.
She releases a shuddering breath, blinks, and the shimmer’s gone. “Thank you, TJ.”
The long-ago nickname twists my heart and makes me want…more. So much more. “Don’t thank me yet, Dani. I’m not agreeing to go back to The Crypt tomorrow. Not yet. You’re still my mission. Myonlymission. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe. Even if that means throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you through customs.”
“You wouldn’t,” she says and tries to wriggle free, but I hold tight, dip my head, and take the biggest fucking risk of my life when I press my lips to hers.
A soft moan comes from low in her throat as she stops fighting and kisses me back. Her lip gloss tastes like watermelon, and I want to go deeper, but I can’t. Not yet. Instead, I pull back slowly and hold her gaze. “I would. Because you’re more important to me than…well, than anything.”
* * *
“I’m headedout to meet Leo,” I say as I pull the baseball cap over my dark brown hair. Every weapon I have is strapped to my body somewhere—except for the ceramic knife in my hand. Flipping it around, I offer it to Dani. “Keep this close, and don’t answer the door for anyone.”
She eyes the black, shiny blade, then gingerly wraps her fingers around the handle. “I don’t know how to use this. Beyond...aim the pointy end at the bad guy.”
A quick glance at my watch tells me I have another few minutes before I have to leave, so I drop the cap on her bed and gesture for her to stand facing me. “There are two main type of grips you can use with a knife like this.” I take her hand and position the weapon with the sharp side of the blade pointing up, towards her thumb. “This is a forward grip. You don’t have to get as close to your opponent holding the knife like this.”
She flexes her fingers slightly. “What’s the other one?”
“Reverse grip.” I ease the knife from her hand and turn it over so the blade faces the other way. “You probably feel in more control like this, right?” Dani nods, and I use my free hand to tip her chin up slightly. “If you hold the knife like this, you have to attack using a downward motion. You have to be closer.”
Taking her arm, I raise it above her head, then slowly bring the knife toward my carotid artery, stopping an inch away. “Slice if you can. Don’t stab. Stabbing can trap your knife in your opponent’s body, and you lose your weapon.”
“Trevor…” Her voice is nothing but a whisper, and I guide her hand lower as I pivot my body until the knife rests against my inner thigh.
My jeans are unbearably tight with her this close, but the thick material protects my skin from the lethal blade. “Femoral artery.”
