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“We have soda, water, basically whatever you might like? Ever since I moved in, Miles has enough groceries delivered to feed ten people because he wants to be sure there’s everything here that I like.”
I rolled my eyes. That was so like Miles: officious, arrogant, but also incredibly caring. “I’ll have some water—or actually, a cup of coffee would be good.”
Ben nodded. “I think I’ll make some for me too. It’s looking like it’s going to be a long day, and it’s hardly started.”
“I haven’t slept, and I’m not counting on getting any sleep for a while.”
“You look like you could use it, though.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m sure I do. I feel like I could sleep for days, but that’s not going to happen.” I’d probably only dream of Matteo if it did.
Ben headed for the kitchen, and I followed him, even though I wanted to listen in on everything Miles said. He’d recount it all for me eventually, and I was only going to get angry if I couldn’t hear the other half of the conversation.
Ben and I were sipping coffee in companionable silence when Miles stalked into the kitchen. “The son of a bitch did know about Matteo all along, but he wasn’t just hiding the man’s presence to fuck with you or to get his way. Matteo was telling the truth. Things are not as they seemed, and he’s…fuck. We’ve all been lied to.”
The coffee I’d drunk felt like it was sloshing around in my stomach. What was Matteo involved in? How bad was it? “Just tell me.”
“X thinks it’s best if you talk to Leo. He’ll be able to give you more of the story than I’ve gotten.”
Miles took out his phone, tapped it a few times, then handed it to me. My hand shook as I held it to my ear. Leo was part of X’s inner circle. I only vaguely knew the man, his background was mysterious at best. I was damn sure he was a badass, and I knew X wouldn’t work with anyone who didn’t meet his standards.
He answered after a few rings, and I said, “This is Carter Armentrout. I understand you’ve got information for me about Matteo.”
“I do. You might want to sit down.”
Fuck. “Just tell me. However bad it is, just tell me.”
He did, and when the call was over I needed a few second before I could speak. When I’d relearned how to breathe, I stared at Miles. “What the fuck are we going to do now?”
5
MATTEO
When I woke again I was alone. That shouldn’t have made me sad, but it did. I wanted Carter there. I didn’t care if he hated me. I didn’t care if he wanted to fight me, to kill me, to hurt me. I’d missed him every fucking day since I’d sent him back to headquarters, praying he survived. The only times I’d searched for him since then was to confirm he had made it back and survived his wound. I had needed to know he was alive if I was going to keep pushing, keep surviving the hell I was in. Once I’d found out he was making a good recovery, I’d tried to force myself to forget him, but it hadn’t worked. Not a single day went by that I didn’t think about him.
I was being so fucking stupid. The situation was hopeless. Carter was never going to care for me now, if he ever had.
He did. Remember the way he used to look at you?
I hadn’t thought I’d ever come face-to-face with him again, and now here I was, his prisoner. I should be scared, but I knew him better than that. He was capable of an incredible amount of violence, but he wasn’t going to hurt me, not unless it was to directly save his life or the life of someone he cared about.
Did that mean no one else he was working for would? No. Especially if they didn’t warn Carter beforehand. No matter how much I longed the see more of him, what I needed to do was focus on getting out of the cell. I should take myself far away and never look for Carter again.
Instead, I let myself lie around and wallow in the memories of when Carter didn’t hate me, or at least when he didn’t hate spending time with me. All it had taken to get him to admit that was fucking him senseless. What I wouldn’t give to do that again.
The first time we’d been together he’d wanted to leave as soon as we’d both come, but I’d convinced him to stay. He’d been skeptical as hell when I brought him to Andres’s house, but as we’d sat astride our bikes eating breakfast as the sun rose, I’d felt more peace than I had in years. Carter and I didn’t need to talk, we just existed together. I had felt something between us that I’d never experienced before.
Later, after everything went down and Carter was gone, I made sure Andres was never in danger from the cartel. The last time I’d checked on him, he was the proud owner of his own restaurant.
As I let the memories play in my head, the pain of the injuries I’d sustained when Carter had shot me with a tranq gun, then beaten me, receded. It was time to figure out how to escape. If only the pain inside my head and the knowledge I was every bit the motherfucking monster Carter saw me as would go away, but those horrors had never subsided in the months since I’d sent him stumbling through the jungle, barely able to stand, and pale as a sheet.
I’d shot him, betrayed him, nearly killed him, and for what? The cartel was still going strong, and if I didn’t get out of here, I was going to die.
But if I did escape, what the hell was I going to do? Go back to Columbia and hope the leaders bought my story about how I’d survived? Go dark? Crawl back to CIA headquarters and beg for another assignment?
I forced myself to focus on an escape plan. Carter hadn’t bothered to tie me up again. Had he wanted me to escape? Was he intentionally letting me go the way I had him? All I knew for sure was that he was conflicted as hell about me. I’d tried to use it to my advantage, but what I really wanted to do was pull him to me and hold him.
I freed myself from the bits of rope that were still around my ankles, then took the protein bar and the bottle of water Carter had thrown at me and shoved them into one of my cargo pockets. I was too nauseous to try to eat. Maybe if I got away from this room that still smelled like Carter, I would be able to swallow without throwing up everything.
