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“Jason thought Division 9-C had you. We looked into Moreno, but there was no evidence. We didn’t think you were on his radar. We were looking in the wrong place. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam. Did he… Were you hurt?”
I cut my eyes away from his, even though I didn’t feel any particular compulsion to do so. My nervous tic seemed to have been eradicated, but I didn’t want him to see the truth in my eyes. I hadn’t been hurt. Not really.
But it was to my advantage if Dex thought I had been. I needed him to think I was weak, shaken. Not fully mentally sharp and calculating the best way to get Andrés away from both his brother and the FBI.
“Where’s Jason?” I asked instead of answering him.
“He’s out looking for the people who did this to you. I’ll call him and tell him it was Moreno.”
“What about you?” I pressed quietly. “Will you go after Cristian?”
“No. I’m staying right here with you.”
Crap.
I needed him to leave. I had to get back to Andrés, especially while the FBI was distracted with tracking Cristian. I’d been running through all the potential ways to save Andrés, and one had become clear to me: I had to get him and his laptop from his penthouse and go into hiding.
I didn’t know how to get in touch with Andrés directly. I’d never seen him with a phone, and while I knew he must have one, I didn’t know how often he kept it on him. Certainly not when he was in his penthouse. That was a mostly technology-free zone, except for his laptop. Even if I was able to find his number som
ehow—and I’d need access to a computer for that—it would take too long to track down.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out of it, but Cristian could find out I was missing at any time and decide to hurt Andrés for letting me go.
So the time factor ruled out trying to communicate with Andrés remotely. That meant I’d need to go to him in person. Which was an impossibility as long as Dex was hovering over me. He’d follow me. Or worse, prevent me from leaving the hospital.
I couldn’t risk telling him about Andrés, because then the Bureau would know exactly where to find the man who’d been holding me captive. They wouldn’t treat him gently if they knew his role in my abduction, no matter what I said to defend him.
Once I got away from Dex and back to Andrés, we’d leave Chicago. I wasn’t sure what kind of private transportation Andrés had at his disposal, but I was fairly certain he’d have something we could use to leave the city. A car would do. A jet would be awesome.
I’d never cared for his drug money, but in that moment, I hoped to hell Andrés had a private jet. If he didn’t, I’d have to get us fake passports, and that would be a snag I wasn’t quite ready to deal with. Maybe he’d have a connection somewhere that could help. What good was being in love with a master criminal if he didn’t have some useful seedy connections?
Somehow, we’d get out of the country. I’d move all his money to an offshore account—at least, as much as we needed to survive. And then we’d ride off into the sunset together.
Now that I was faced with the prospect of being returned to my old life, I realized I didn’t want it. I’d spent years hiding behind my computer. I was ready to live my life, and I wanted to share it with Andrés. I didn’t care where we went, as long as we were together and he was safe from Cristian.
But I had to get past Dex first. My eyes searched the room. He’d left his keys and phone on the table in the corner, beside a chair where he must have been sitting while I slept.
I needed those keys.
Not the phone, because that could be tracked. I didn’t know how to call Andrés, anyway. Access to the internet from the smart phone would have been nice, but I didn’t have time to do any hacking, especially not from a phone. I could do much more significant damage to Cristian once I had access to the raw data on Andrés’ laptop.
“Um, can you do something for me?” I asked, still not meeting Dex’s eye. He wouldn’t think anything of it; I rarely looked directly at him.
“Anything,” he said hoarsely.
“Can you get me some real clothes?” I wore a hospital gown, which wasn’t ideal for escape.
“I got Chloe to bring you some,” he said, gesturing at a pile of neatly-folded clothes on the table beside my hospital bed.
“Oh. Thanks. Could you, um, get me something else?”
My mind raced, trying to think of some errand I could send him on to make him leave me alone for a few minutes.
“Coffee,” I said quickly. “I haven’t had coffee in weeks.”
It was true, but I hadn’t needed it, so I hadn’t really missed it. I’d slept so soundly with Andrés that I hadn’t required my usual two cups a day.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Dex said. “I can wait until another agent comes to relieve me, and then I’ll get you anything you want.”
