She locked eyes with him, steely and unflinching. “You won’t win.”
Rodriguez laughed again, low and feral. “I already have.”
Drew rapidly searched for something… anything to get more information from Rodriguez. “I don’t know, that last phone call didn’t sound happy. Sounds to me like you’ve got trouble in paradise. Upset that your crew isn’t all that good? I mean, you lost the shipment, and then you lost the one lead you had to find it. No wonder your bosses don’t trust you anymore.” It had been a shot in the dark. Her high school Spanish wasn’t all that good, but Rodriguez’s face flushed a dull red.Bingo.
“You shut your face,” Rodriguez snarled.
“You seem awfully excited for someone who’s seen a lot of failure lately. I’d be much more worried if I were you. This is notlooking good. What if Tessa doesn’t call her cop friends? What if it’s not a setup? Maybe your cop isn’t the only bent one. If that’s the case, then you’re not going to know jack shit before the meet. And if you look at your history, you and your people have always come up short against Tessa and my people.”
Rodriguez slammed the back of his hand across her face, forcing her head back with a snap. She saw stars, and she knew instantly that her face would swell. But damn, it had been worth it. She’d planted doubt. Sometimes all that was needed was a seed and then a bit of water to make it grow. Rodriguez was already on the edge. If she could make him even more paranoid, he would start to really crumble and then make mistakes. She needed that to happen. Any opening that might help her or the rest of them survive this mess.
Rodriguez suddenly chuckled. “You are a bitch. I like that. We are definitely going to party.” He walked past her to the bar in the corner, the scent of expensive cologne clashing with the sweat and stale liquor in the air.
“Boss,” one of his goons called.
“What?” Rodriguez demanded, slamming the bottle of tequila down on the bar top.
The muscle went over to him and whispered something in his ear.
Drew tensed. Pushing Rodriguez had been a risk, but she needed him as stressed as possible. If he decided he wanted to rough her up… or worse…there wasn’t much she could do other than fight with everything she had. No one was coming to rescue her, at least not until tomorrow night.
Rodriguez came back and stood in front of her. “Seems our party will have to wait. I have guests.” His grin made her stomach churn as he reached out and ran a hand down her cheek. “Good news, though. It won’t be over until tomorrow night. An exchange, you for my shipment.” He chuckled. “Wehave plenty of time to party until then, no?” He reached out again, but Drew evaded his touch with a sharp jerk of her head. Rodriguez chuckled but walked to the door. He spoke quietly with one of the guards, then disappeared into the hallway, his men trailing behind.
As soon as he was gone, Drew let her body sag just a little, the tension finally breaking through the steel armor she’d been holding in place since the moment they shoved her onto that plane.
Cross. The image came without warning. His body splashing into the water. Blood. His hand reaching for her—and then nothing. She blinked rapidly, her throat tightening.God dammit, stop, Drew. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Cross was too stubborn. Too strong. The man survived war zones, cartel ambushes, and God knew what else. A bullet and a fall into swamp water weren’t going to take him out. But the thought still gutted her. Her chest ached with it.
She clenched her jaw and sucked in a breath through her nose. He wasn’t gone. She refused to believe it. The last time she’d seen him alive, he’d still been trying to protect her. Still thinking ten steps ahead, like always. And even though he’d broken her heart—left her, lied to her—she knew one thing with absolute clarity:
She still loved him.
Stupid, maddening, self-sacrificing Cross. She wanted to slap him and kiss him and never let him out of her sight again. She also wanted boundaries this time. Trust. Honesty. A real future. If they got out of this—whenthey got out of this—she was going to fight for that future. No more games. No more running.
But first, she had to survive the night.
The door creaked open again, and Dunlop stepped in, a blanket folded awkwardly in his arms.
“You’re freezing,” he said, eyeing the sweat-damp blouse clinging to her frame. “I found this in the back room.” He tossed it over her lap.
“Thanks,” she murmured, surprised by the gesture. It was true, she was cold. She hadn’t noticed until now. They must have jacked the AC since the club was packed.
The shorter of the two guards grunted from across the room. “She doesn’t need that.”
“Why not?” Dunlop shot back. “She’s not going anywhere. Just let her lie down. She’s been in that damn chair for twelve hours.”
The guards exchanged looks. Dunlop held his ground, which surprised Drew. She’d been watching him around Rodriguez and his men. Dunlop kept clear and kept his head down. Standing up for her was a big risk. Not something she expected.
“We’re all stuck here until tomorrow night. What difference does it make if she sleeps on the couch?”
More muttering. A shrug. “Fine. But we’re zipping her down again. Hands and feet.”
“Whatever,” Dunlop muttered.
They moved her to the cracked leather couch near the back wall, zip-tying her wrists and ankles again, though they were looser this time. She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders as best she could and sank back into the thin cushions with a stifled groan.
The guards returned to their perch by the window. Loud club music still pulsed below, but it felt distant now, like it came from another world.
Dunlop leaned close, pretending to fuss with the empty trash can near the couch. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I talked to Billy.”
