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“Why Matteo? Why did you join them?”
He shook his head and looked away as he worked at the ropes on his wrists, untying them and letting the remnants of the chair clatter to the floor. Finally, he said, “I can’t tell you.”
“If they’re going to kill you anyway, why do you care about protecting their fucking secrets?” And why did I care about the anguish in his eyes and the defeated slump of his shoulders? I wanted him defeated. I hated him. I had to.
“It’s my secret, Carter. Not the cartel’s. It was never about them.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” What secret did he have? We all knew what he’d done.
He stared at me, and I felt like he was trying to get me to understand something, to hear more in his words than he was saying. I pushed away and crossed the cell. I’d had enough of his games.
“You can fucking rot in here if you’re not going to talk.”
Matteo slid down the wall, pulled up his legs, and laid his head on his knees. “Fine. I don’t deserve a quick death anyway.”
Seeing him look defeated, no longer even trying to fight, made my chest tighten. It was supposed to feel good to have him at my mercy. I should be happy, but I felt sick.
I stepped out and locked the cell door as fast as I could, then ran to the tiny bathroom down the hall where I heaved again and again. It had been so long since I’d eaten that nothing came up but bile.
After I rinsed out my mouth, I headed for the door, but partway there I stopped, slammed my hand into the wall, and turned around, furious with myself. I was so weak I couldn’t even leave Matteo hungry.
I told myself I just needed him in decent shape to talk when I was ready to return and try again, but all I could think about was how fucking sad he looked. It had to be an act. If anyone else tried to pull that shit, I wouldn’t budge. I wouldn’t believe it. I knew what he was fucking capable of, and he was still working his magic on me.
I opened a closet and grabbed a bottle of water and a protein bar. I tossed them into the cell, and they landed near his now prone form.
4
CARTER
You have no idea what I am.
It’s my secret, Carter. Not the cartel’s. It was never about them.
Matteo’s words echoed in my head again and again as I drove aimlessly.
He was just messing with me, right? He was trying to make me question myself and how I felt about him. I hated him. I couldn’t possibly feel any other way about him. He deserved to pay for what he’d done.
So why had it hurt—physically hurt like a punch to the gut—to look at him?
I couldn’t let him manipulate me, but something about the way he said those words…. I’d never understood why he would betray us. He had seemed as focused on the goal of eliminating the cartel as anyone, no matter what he said about not being a hero like me.
And now he’d challenged me to investigate, to reconsider everything. He was hinting at something he wasn’t going to say outright. That should have been enough for me to ignore him. He was playing games with me even when he was my prisoner.
Is he the only one in prison, or are you just as trapped?
I wasn’t going to think anymore about that.
I called Miles, needing someone to pull me out of my own damn head. I worked as his head of security, and he was the reason that I’d ended up seeing Matteo again, but he was also one of my best friends. If it hadn’t been for him, Ford, and Worth, I wouldn’t have survived after I came home from the jungle.
“Did you learn anything?” Miles asked as soon as he answered the phone.
“No.” Except that I’m just as susceptible to Matteo’s charm as I ever was.
“Carter?”
“This isn’t easy.”
“I never thought it would be. That’s why I said someone else should go talk to him.”
