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“This looks so good. Do each of you know how to cook?” she asked, taking a spoonful of potatoes and placing them onto her plate.
“We sure do. How about you, do you like cooking?” Tex asked her.
“Oh, I like cooking, I used to watch all the cooking shows and wish I could whip up some of the meals they made.”
“I bet you could do it. It’s really not that hard,” Lee added.
“If you have the right tools and ingredients, I’m sure it’s pretty easy,” she said.
Stitch hated hearing her sound so sad. “Well, now that you’re living here, and we have this gourmet kitchen, fully stocked for any recipe you might want to try, you can have a go at it. Whenever you’re feeling energized enough,” Stitch told her. She looked at him and then around the room at the kitchen.
“We’ll see,” she whispered, and Stitch smiled. She didn’t flat out say no way, so maybe making her feel more comfortable here was happening after all.
Chapter 11
“So he’s alive? That piece of shit destroyed my life,” Chavez stated as he spoke to Emoy.
“My men tell me that he isn’t doing well and that he is still in critical condition.”
“Unless he’s dead, your enthusiasm, Emoy, better be lined with some good news for me.”
“Well, unfortunately his sister is alive, too. She made it out of the compound with help from Keith and his team. They went in solo. That’s what caused the entire operation to fail.”
“Son of a bitch. I thought they were washed up, retired, and out of the whole military op thing. Why would they get involved?”
“Camaraderie?”
“Camaraderie my ass. What did the men find out?”
“Well, it could be the woman. It seems Keith’s team is taking care of her. She moved in with them.”
Chavez squinted his eyes and clenched his teeth. “Really? Now this is something I can work with.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want Shawna. I want her here with me in Brazil.” Chavez looked away, only partially hearing Emoy’s questions behind him. He was too transfixed on an idea formulating in his head.
“Chavez, did you not hear me? Why is this woman so important to find and bring here?” Emoy asked him as Chavez stared out the window that overlooked the Brazilian beach from a private estate he now called home.
He looked at Emoy, his partner, his associate for the last ten years. He was the one who warned Chavez about getting involved with Montoya. His friend had been correct. But the plan would have worked fine, and he could still be living in America, freely traveling to all his private estates he would have purchased with the money he would have gotten from the Iraqis.
“It is simple. Keith, one measly American soldier, stole my life and my future from me. His team helped him and apparently they desire the lovely woman. Keith wrecked the operation, and now that missile is under US cont
rol. By taking the only thing he holds dear, his sister, I will look at possessing her as a prize for my misery.”
“We are building more missiles right now. The plan is just on hold for a while. Is she worth the risk? Just because you seek revenge against this soldier? Kill him while he lays in that bed fighting for his life. That would be a successful and fulfilling revenge, my friend.”
“Emoy, have you looked at the folder on the table yet?”
“You know I haven’t. I was enjoying the sunset, the sound of music in the distance.”
“Well, look at them. You’ll see what I see in her eyes, and in her beauty.”
Emoy walked over to the table and lifted the folder up. He opened it and made a humming noise.
Chavez smiled as he turned to lock gazes with his partner and friend. “She is quite lovely, don’t you think?”
He watched Emoy trace his finger along the picture. He scanned through the others and then stopped. “You are right. Her eyes are stunning, too.” He looked at Chavez.
