Page 3 of Wild Devil
And a real leader doesn’t do shit without putting the safety of his men first. Samuel, Damien, and his boys, even the cartel holdouts…
They’re all in my corner.
“We’ll regroup,” I say, going along with Ben’s original plan. “You and I will watch the house. Kane will watch over Frey.”
“She’ll be fine for the night,” Ben says. “I’m sure of it.”
A bitter thought creeps in before I can help it—maybe she wanted it this way. Maybe this was a setup from the beginning, meant to catch me off guard. A sleeping-with-the-enemy-type deal. All along, she could have been playing me for the fool.
The thought doesn’t fully enter my mind before I quash it. Bullshit. Frey isn’t like that. If anyone would have had an ulterior motive, it’s me. I’m the one who lied to her from the start and dragged her into this mess. I’m the one who failed not only her, but her brother.
I’m the monster in this fucked-up fairy tale.
“Hey.” I sense Ben come up beside me before he even places his hand on my shoulder. “You’re in your head again,” he points out. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Maybe going to the house is the real trap?” Turning on my heel, I start pacing all over again. “Who knows what they’re doing to her in that fucking church? Leaving her there could be exactly what they want me to do.”
“I doubt it,” Damien pipes up. “Now, quit your bitching and tell us what to do.”
I stop short and face him again. He’s right. In this situation, I’m not in control, and the only option I have left is one that scares me to death.
I have to trust Frey and myself.
“Kane could be right,” I admit. “We should look into Heywood’s activities away from the church. Lie low. The three of us will check out the mansion and see what’s going on. And in the meantime?—”
“Lex will keep cracking at the tablet,” Damien cuts in. “One of his government contacts is bringing in some high-tech computer equipment. In a few hours, he’ll be able to tell us everything we need. Kane will stick around the church. If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this mess,” Ben says, nodding in agreement. “So, when do you want to get this shit show underway?”
I look out of a nearby, partially-boarded-up window. Through slits in the plywood, the sky is already darkening to an inky blue as night falls. A sinking feeling in my gut warns me that unless Frey is freed soon, she might never be.
But if I don’t find a way to take down her father, she wouldn’t accept me as her “savior” anyway.
“Now,” I say to Ben. “Let’s move out.”
“You sure you don’t want to shower first?” He casts a wary glance at my filthy sweats and tattered shirt. I haven’t changed since she left. A day ago, already? It feels like a goddamn eternity.
“No.” Cracking my knuckles, I turn toward the door. “We need to leave now before I change my mind.”
“Yo, blondie. Hold up.” My attention is drawn to the far corner of the warehouse, where shadows obscure anyone on that end. A lone man is heading my way, an eyebrow raised. He’s kept mostly out of sight since we’ve been here, but I recognize him instantly—Marco, one of the cartel holdouts. “We need to talk first,” he says, coming to a stop paces away from me. “Or are you all too busy with this pow-wow sesh?”
“I’ll go get a van ready and make sure we have some backup,” Ben grumbles, heading for the battered metal doors that mark the exit.
As he leaves, I size up the man standing before me. He’s tall, with dark hair and enough muscle to suggest he can hold his own in a fight. I can’t tell much from his guarded expression. For all I know, he could have a knife at the ready, primed to stab me in the back.
It wouldn’t be the first time I trusted the wrong person.
“I want to make it clear that we aren’t here to play Girl Scouts,” he says once Ben is out of earshot. “You made an offer we couldn’t refuse, but we aren’t dogs you can keep on a leash. Don’t forget our deal.”
As if I could. I grind my teeth, recalling exactly what that agreement entailed—I would help them drive Silas and Heywood’s goons from the city once and for all. After that? We’d go our separate ways, supposedly without any further bloodshed. How did that one saying go? The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
“So, is this your way of saying to watch my back?” I counter, keeping my tone neutral.
He shrugs. “This is my way of telling you that our loyalties still lie where they lie. But if you need any intel regarding Cortez or the other leaders, we’re here to offer it. No more. No less. Comprende?”
I nod. “And I’m sure that you’ll offer all this help in exchange for nothing. Out of the goodness of your heart, of course.”
He winks. “You can bet your ass on that.”