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I’ve been on the road for almost four hours after I stopped in Beaumont to fill up on gas, take a piss, and grab something to eat. I’m nearing San Antonio, and when the city comes into view, my body is tense at the thought of being near her.
I know she’s in a convent. That’s as much as I know. The next challenge is to find the location of said convent and take my girl home. When I pull up to a store on the main road, I kill the engine and make my way inside.
An older woman with dark hair peeks at me from behind a magazine, then lowers the book to the countertop and smiles at me.
“Good evening. How can I help you?”
Sauntering up to the counter, I place my helmet down and gift her a slight nod. “Evenin’, ma’am. Are there any convents or churches around the area?”
Her brows furrow, and I’m sure she’s confused at why someone who looks like me is searching for a church. I don’t look like a man who would frequent a house of the Lord, and that makes me chuckle.
“I have a friend to meet, and he didn’t tell me which church he’s workin’ at,” I lie with a smile on my face, confident I’m going to hell anyway. I may as well make the journey worth it.
“Ah, well, you’ve got two. Her Lady of Sorrows is only about twenty-five miles from here, near the Canyon Forest area.” She waves at a map, which I grab, opening it to check out where the place is. “Other than that, there’s one farther out, which is on the road out to Austin. If your friend said San Antonio, you’d best try Her Lady of Sorrows.”
“Thank you.” I pull out my wallet, slapping a hundred on the counter. I take the map along with me and exit the store before she can ask any questions. A few people are milling around, mostly tourists from the look of them with cameras and maps. I don’t stick out too much thankfully, but I know as soon as I head to the convent, I’ll be much more suspect in these jeans and leather jacket.
Across the road from where I’m standing is a hotel, which I head straight for after grabbing my duffel bag and slinging it over my shoulder. Upon entering the exquisite entrance, I make my way to the check-in desk, and I’m met with a young man dressed in the hotel uniform, a deep-blue vest over a white button-up and what I’m guessing to be black slacks.
“Good evening, sir. How can I help you?”
“A room, single, for three nights,” I request, placing my black credit card on the counter before he tells me I can’t afford to stay in a fucking five-star place like this. I’ve had it happen before, but the moment they see the card, I’m a valued guest.
“Of course, sir.” He grins, tapping away on the keyboard while I pull out my phone and hit dial on a number.
I have friends down in Colombia that I can reach out to for help with this job, and I’m calling in a favor. I’ll owe them, but it will be worth it when I find Giuliana and take her away from this fucking joke of a convent she’s decided to marry herself off to.
“Here you go, sir.” The young man slides the key card over the counter to me along with my credit card. I offer a nod and make my way toward the elevator when the ringing stops and the deep rumble comes from the other side of the line.
“It’s been a long time, amigo,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“It has,” I agree. Stepping into the elevator, I continue, “I might need a place to stay for a little while. I’m thinking of heading to LA sometime next week after I complete a job.”
“Mm, you know the property is yours. There’s no need for you to ask me for permission to stay there.” He sounds amused. He’s right. I rent the place from him, so it is mine, but I know he uses it from time to time. “And I trust your payment for putting you up will be able to be called in at any time?” he quips. Asshole may be a good friend, but he’s also a businessman.
“As always, Victor.” I step out of the car into the hallway and make my way to the room. Unlocking the door, I step into the air-conditioned space and sigh. “It won’t only be me though,” I tell him. I may as well pull the Band-Aid off now.
“Oh?” I can only imagine his dark brow arching in question.
“I will have a friend with me.”
He chuckles. “A friend. Do you take me for an idiot, Lance Knight?”
“Not at all, Victor Cordero,” I respond with a smile while staring out over the city from the window in the bedroom. It’s not a big room, but it’s enough to set up all my equipment. I notice the bed has a headboard. Once I get my sweet girl from the convent, I’ll have to bind her there, so she doesn’t go running off. She may have chosen the convent, but I’ll make her see it’s the wrong choice.
“You do what you need to do,” he tells me. “Be careful, Lance. Arthur is not one to toy with. If you’d like to come down to Colombia, call me. I’ll ensure you have a place to hide out if needed.” Victor is one of the men I helped with a deal that went wrong when his father died, and since then, we’ve kept in touch. He’s one of the most dangerous men in Colombia, and at times, I wonder why I’m friends with a man like him. He does shit worse than I ever could, but it’s not my business.
“Thank you, Victor,” I tell him.
“I have two words for you, Lance — Sergio Ramos.” My blood runs cold at the name once more. “He’s in San Antonio, right where you are at the moment.”
“You’re tracing my call, asshole?” I chuckle, knowing he would’ve done it. The fact that I allowed him to has offered him solace that I can be trusted. This life doesn’t come with friends, and even though some may seem friendly, you can never trust anyone.
“I want him dead.”
“Consider it done,” I affirm easily, knowing it would have been done anyway. “I’ll be in touch.” I hang up, not needing more conversation with him. I’ve set up our escape route, and I will ensure there are no hiccups once I’m with my girl.
Unzipping the duffel, I pull out my Glock, setting it on the table, and I start organizing everything I need. As soon as all my tools of the trade are out of the bag, I shrug off my jacket and head to the bar. Before I see Giuliana, I need to figure out how to take Sergio out.
