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Elisa rolled her eyes. “I know your parents so I know that’s not saying much.”
It was true. Her parents were consistently neglectful of her as a child and yet cruelly caring when it came down to anything that messed with the Sutherland family image. Every small kindness came with a consequence and each awkward hug hid a knife to the back.
“Look,” Elisa said, giving Bianca’s shoulders a strong squeeze. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t be pissed that in six months he never mentioned being married before, but you’re so ready for everyone to disappoint you that you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. After everything that happened at St. B’s and with your family, no one’s blaming you for that. But the thing is, Taz’s other shoe did drop. Now you need to stop waiting and start moving forward.”
The question was would Bianca be doing that with or without him? It was one she didn’t have an answer for and didn’t have time to think about now. They had a mission to complete, a friend to rescue and a drug kingpin to force out of business. After that? Maybe her heart could take giving Taz a second chance.
“Come on. We’re going to land soon and we still need to do a final team briefing.” She opened the door. “Let’s grab a coffee and get this show on the road.”
Chapter 8
Taz
Taz leaned back against the kitchenette’s shelf and rubbed his palm against his newly shorn hair. After confronting Tamara with Camacho’s information about her arrest warrant, she’d spilled like an overfilled dog bowl. She’d confirmed everything the freelance investigator had dug up and filled in the blanks in ways that made him want to hurl. The situation with Tamara was worse than he’d figured, and the bar had already been set pretty fucking low.
“So your claim is that your sister’s ex-husband was planning to auction off his own daughter’s virginity to raise cash for his little militia religious cult?”
Tamara’s jaw tightened and her hands curled into fists. “Oh he wouldn’t call it that, but that’s exactly what it was.”
“And what would he call it?”
“An arranged marriage.”
Shit. He did not have time for this. They were thirty thousand miles above the Pacific Ocean on their way to take out a drug dealer who’d outmaneuvered them at every turn and wanted to harm the woman Taz loved, and now he had to deal with a power-hungry lunatic willing to barter his own daughter for gold. It almost made him miss the good old days when he didn’t give two shits about anyone but himself. Of course, then he’d met Bianca and his whole world had changed.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he outlined his options. First, the authorities. His brother Keir had connections everywhere, but they’d already used up almost every favor owed in their search for the Genie’s Wish kingpin. Plus, it was going to take a lot to get someone true blue to overlook an active warrant. Still, if she had something concrete, he could find someone to listen.
“What kind of proof do you have?” Taz asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing that would stand up in a court of law, which is why I had to take Essie and run, why we have to keep running.”
Okay, the authorities were a no go. Second option, the B-Squad. Since all of them were currently in the same jet as he was, that was a no go too. Third, Camacho. The freelance investigator wasn’t a team player, but he had the tools to keep Tamara and Essie safe until evidence was found showing how much of a danger Jarrod was to the girl. And if that didn’t come through, Camacho could help them get lost—he’d already done it with his own identity.
“And the million dollars you tried to extort from me was supposed to finance this?”
She didn’t avert her gaze, but her cheeks turned pink. “I have some money but not enough. I didn’t have any other way to get enough for the fake identities and to start a new life.”
“You have the contacts for those?” He already knew the answer, but he had to ask.
Her chin jutted up. “I’ll get them.”
Sure she would. More like she’ll lose half the cash to a scam artist. Taz scrubbed a palm across his face. Pain from a sudden tension headache stabbed him right through the temple. Leaving Tamara and Essie to their own devices was not an option. He had to put a call into Camacho and bring him up to speed before they landed at Indulgence Resort.
“Where is Essie now?”
“Somewhere safe.” The statement came out sharp, but Tamara couldn’t hide the worried wobble in her tone.
In over her head didn’t begin to describe the situation. If she’d only told him the truth earlier… “Why not ask for help?”
She choked out a pained laugh. “Are you kidding? Who would help me?” She closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. “Look, we both know that I’m not a good person. I never have been. I’m selfish, mean and willing to do whatever it takes to get my way. Everyone sees me that way. Hell, it’s exactly how I see myself because it’s true. But my sister? She didn’t.”
She raised her gaze to the ceiling and blinked several times before bringing her focus back to him. “She was the one person who saw something else. I owe her for not coming to help sooner. It’s my fault she was trapped with Jarrod as long as she was. She needed my help and I was too busy being a bitch to do her any bit of good.” Tears spilled over her cheeks in black-tinted rivers and the tip of her nose was Rudolph red. “I shouldn’t have tried to extort you but it was the only option I could come up with. Essie is a sixteen-year-old girl with her whole life ahead of her—but only if I can keep her away from Jarrod. And we have to hide so well he’ll never find us, because he won’t give up. If he gets her back to Idaho, she’ll be married off to the highest bidder and then hidden away in a commune where women are considered living proof of Eve’s sin and made to pay for it every day. Please. She’s just a girl.”
On the last word, Tamara’s voice cracked and her whole body seemed to curl into itself. For the first time since she’d waltzed off the elevator and into his living room, he didn’t think she was full of shit. Too much of her story rang true and fit in with what Camacho had already told him.
In that moment, as her shoulders shook and she wept silently, she wasn’t the bitch ex-wife who’d turned Taz’s life upside down. Instead, she was the woman he’d met at a McDonald’s all those years ago when they were both sneak-eating a Big Mac. They’d bonded over the high-calorie pleasure forbidden for both of them—for her, because she was expected to win the Miss American Beauty contest in a few days, and for him, because he was in training for his next big fight.
Obviously, she was scared, hurt and overwhelmed. She needed to know someone was in her corner and right now, for better or worse, that person was him.
