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If she was running from the cartel…what then? Same deal as before. Take away the drugs and give her a running start. The cartel people would find her eventually, but that wasn’t his problem.
She was Hamilton’s problem. Hamilton’s woman.
Why did that make his belly knot?
Matthew scowled. First things first. If she was carrying dope, he’d find it. Then he could decide what to do next.
“You done packing?”
Her suitcase closed with a snap. “Yes.”
“Listen closely, because I don’t want any mistakes. I’m going to open the door. We’re going down the stairs together, me with my arm around you. We’re going to look like the happiest lovers since Romeo and Juliet.”
“Where are we going?”
“Wherever I say.”
She shot him a look that said she hoped he’d burn in hell.
“You sure you haven’t forgotten anything?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Because if you have, consider it gone.”
“I told you, I haven’t forgotten anything.”
Fine. The dope wasn’t in the room. Nobody, no matter how scared, left a stash worth big bucks behind.
He clasped her wrist. She tried to shake free and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Lovers, remember? Romeo and Juliet.”
Her teeth glittered in a parody of a smile. “Romeo died.”
The quick retort would be to remind her that Juliet died, too. He didn’t say it. For some reason, the quip was too filled with foreboding. Despite his Comanche blood, he wasn’t in to predicting the future, but had a bad feeling as he unlocked the door and stepped out into the corridor.
One arm at her waist, the other within easy reach of his gun, he took her down the stairs, out the door and to the street. There was a café across the way.
“Breakfast,” he said.
She looked at him as if he were crazy. Maybe he was, but if he didn’t get some food in his belly soon, he’d fall on his face.
The café smelled like the grease on the griddle was a permanent fixture, but how bad could coffee, eggs and sausage be?
Pretty bad, as it turned out. After a couple of bites, Matthew pushed his plate away. Mia hadn’t ordered anything except coffee and he figured she’d made the smartest choice.
Over his second cup, he leaned over the scarred table.
“Have you come to your senses?”
“About what?”
“About coming across with what you stole.”
“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said sharply. “Think about what will happen if you don’t come clean with me.”
