Well, fuck, what had Ramirez gotten himself into?
“Were you able to get anything else?” Luca asked.
Diego shook his head. “Not yet. Brooks is helping me comb through the footage, and I’ll keep you updated. But so far, that’s all I have.”
We disconnected a little while later, with a promise from Diego to let us know if he found anything new. With that out ofthe way, I dragged Luca into the shower, which was surprisingly a good size, and distracted him with mutual hand jobs. He was feeling much better by the time we got out and was ready to work.
We ordered Thai food, then sat at the breakfast nook with a beer—thank you delivery services that deliver alcohol—each and watched. Tomorrow, we’d go over there once we had a better idea what we were walking into.
Luc and I had moved our observations outside a while ago, and we were sharing the bench chair with a blanket around us. Despite it being the end of summer, it got chilly around here at night once the sun went down. We didn’t have that many opportunities for one-on-one time, so I wanted to take advantage of it, even under these circumstances.
“Someone’s out there,” he whispered, dragging me out of my thoughts.
I pulled up the binoculars, which had night vision so we could see clearly. The lights were still off in and outside at the other house, but there was the dim glow of a phone flashlight that bounced along the path.
Focusing, I watched as the light moved around until it stopped on the bottom step of the porch. The flashlight turned off. There was only the glow of the phone screen, which made it bright enough to make out the person. It was a man, but no one I recognized right off the bat. He was young, though the green glow made it hard to see his features. He had a blanket over his shoulders and a beanie pulled down low.
“He’s a kid,” Luca muttered, sounding a little surprised.
“Maybe,” I agreed. He might’ve been a little older than that, but we wouldn’t know until I saw him more clearly. I wondered if it was the guy Diego had caught on the security footage. Either way, it definitely wasn’t Ramirez. Neither was it his son, who wasin his early twenties, as he had an entirely different build than this person. He’d also been confirmed to still be at college.
“I’m messaging Diego. Maybe he can get a clearer image.”
I hummed in agreement, focusing on the man. His eyes were glued to his phone, shoulders hunched over. Whatever his deal was, he wasn’t an obvious threat. Was this person the reason Ramirez was hell-bent on finding me?
“Diego’s working on it,” Luca told me, leaning harder into me.
I didn’t respond and focused solely on the man on the porch. I was still trying to put all the puzzle pieces together when another flashlight appeared, and then a second person became visible.
It was another man. This one seemed older, though I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but from his posture, I was nearly positive it was Ramirez. Up until a couple days ago, I probably wouldn’t have been able to place him from a distance and in the dark, but I’d had a crash course on everything that was Charles Ramirez. The flashlight was pointed toward the younger man on the porch, his hands moving frantically as he spoke to him. He seemed annoyed, or at least worried. He kept pointing to the door and then out past the yard. Every word from the second man had the first one slumping further, shoulders in his ears and head bent down.
“What the fuck is going on?” There was an edge to Luca’s voice that I understood perfectly. Something about the way the first man was turning in on himself had my protective instincts on edge. I wanted to walk over there and demand to know what was going on. Only, the little bit of common sense I managed to hold onto kept me from doing just that.
The first man stood up and walked past the second one into the house. The second one began to follow him, but at the last second turned away from the door, staring in our direction andgiving me a clear look at his face and the visual confirmation I needed.
“It’s definitely Ramirez.”
I couldn’t process more than that before Ramirez turned away and followed the younger man inside.
CHAPTER 8
WES
Shortly after thetwo men went inside, Diego sent us enhanced images from the cameras of them. I’d already been pretty sure it was Ramirez, but now I was one hundred percent. I didn’t recognize the younger man. Diego thought it could be the guy from the gas station, but he didn’t have a positive identity yet. I thought about contacting Deshaun but decided to sit on the information for now. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him per se, but he had a lot of lives in his hands, and protecting his assets would be his first priority so I wasn’t sure how he’d act in this situation.
Sleep wasn’t easy to come by, and we only managed a few restless hours when Diego rang in on a FaceTime call with an update.
“I’m still working on facial recognition, but I’d say with 88% certainty that the man on the CCTV footage is the same one with Ramirez now. Everyone here agrees,” he said in place of a greeting.
I smiled indulgently at my boy as I waited for the coffee maker to work its magic. Luca trailed in before Diego could say anything else. He was wearing nothing but plaid pajama pants, his hair sticking up in all different directions. I leaned over and kissed his cheek before tilting the screen so he could see the call.
“Morning, angel.” I placed the phone on the counter so we could both see Diego. His dark hair was loose and a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a black tank top and compression pants, his typical workout clothes. He must’ve called us right after the gym. Brooks was sitting cross-legged on top of the desk directly behind Diego, eating something out of a massive bowl. He was also wearing workout clothes, and it looked like he’d never combed his hair in his life. He waved at us.
Diego blushed. “Morning.” He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed.
I eyed my boy through the screen as I poured my coffee, Luca crowding in behind me. “Did you get any sleep?” I asked, using my Daddy voice. He didn’t seem exhausted or wired from too much caffeine, but I could never be too sure. Diego tended to forget his basic needs when he was working, and it got even worse when I wasn’t around.
“Don’t worry, Daddy Wes,” Brooks chimed in. “I dragged him out of here around midnight, and we just got back in. He didn’t sleep any worse than he usually does.”
