“Textbook. Tatiana played her part.” He pauses. “She had intel. Unverified, but worth flagging.”
“What kind of intel?”
“Chatter about a contract on Vicente and Arturo.”
I glance at Nina’s sleeping face. “How credible?”
“Unknown. Could be stale—these guys have enemies lining up around the block. Tatiana couldn’t confirm if it’s active or just old noise that’s resurfacing.” Another pause. “But given everything else we’re tracking, I don’t love the timing.”
“You think it’s connected to Rafael?”
“I think I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Neither do I. But right now, Nina’s hand is warm in mine and she’s safe and the rest of it can wait a few hours.
“We’ll dig into it more tomorrow,” I say. “Tonight, she just needs to rest. We all do.”
“Yeah.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m heading back now. Should be there in forty minutes.”
“Actually—can you swing by Mason’s garage first? I need you to pick up Nikita from my apartment. One of the guys can let you in.”
“The cat?”
“Nina could use a snuggle buddy for the next few days. And I’ve been neglecting her.”
Chris snorts. “You want me to transport your cat.”
“Unless you want to explain to Nina why she doesn’t have a furry nurse.”
The line is silent for a beat. “Fine. I’ll grab her.”
“Deal.”
I hang up and look back at Nina, still sleeping, still holding my hand.
In two weeks she’ll be back at work, back to her regular schedule—sitting in a room with two men who might have a target on their backs.
I hope the intel is stale. I hope it’s old noise, recycled threats from enemies who know better than to actually try.
But I don’t believe in coincidences either.
34
Nina
The world comes back in soft pieces. Wyatt’s voice, low and steady. The hum of the engine. My seatbelt across my chest, holding me in place.
“You with me?” he asks.
I turn my head toward him, movements slow and disconnected. “Mmhmm.”
“How you feeling?”
“Floaty.” The word comes out stretched, like taffy. “Really floaty.”
His mouth curves. “That’s the good drugs.”
“They are very good drugs.” I watch the palm trees slide past the window, their fronds blurring into green streaks. “Did you know palm trees are waving at us?”
