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CHAPTER ELEVEN
THIS PLACE IS LIKEheaven on Earth. A hundred acres at least. A secluded two story farm house tucked in the middle of thick foliage, completely hidden from the small country road it’s set off of. Full of character and country charm, it’s nothing like the island compound. And the exact opposite of a place where I would expect members of a wealthy and powerful cartel to be hiding out.
Then again, I guess that’s the point.
I’m sitting on the padded window seat in the second story master, my knees tucked tightly against my chest as I stare out at the incredible view. It feels so good to be back on U.S. soil. And even though I don’t know our exact location, I know we’re somewhere in North Dakota.
A five hour boat ride, followed by a ten hour flight on a private jet, I’ve never traveled such a long distance at one time. At least not while I was conscious.
As hard as I tried to sleep on the plane, the few times I did manage to doze off I’d wake in a cold sweat, my heart racing a million miles a minute. I haven’t been able to find a moment of peace since walking into Niko’s room. We might not have been close, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing him lying there, blood pouring from the open gash across his throat.
My mind drifts back to the first night I met Mateo. Back when my life was mine and my biggest worry was how to dip out of the bar without upsetting my best friend. God, it feels like a lifetime has passed since then.
We arrived at the house a couple of hours ago. Mateo sent the few men that met us here out to survey the property and check all the motion sensors around the perimeter. And Dimitri accompanied Norma to the store to stock up on food and supplies. I guess out of everyone, they were the two least assuming people to send. No one would think twice about seeing them shopping at some random grocery store in the middle of nowhere, likely assuming they are mother and son, or probably more likely grandma and grandson. And as much as I wanted to go, to grasp at some sense of normalcy, I knew Mateo would never allow it.
Which leaves me here alone. Well, not entirely alone. Mateo is here somewhere. I’ve successfully avoided speaking to him up to this point. Not that it’s been difficult to do. He hasn’t tried to talk to me either. Last time I saw him, he was pacing the large front porch with his cell phone pressed to his ear.
Maybe we’re both avoiding each other.
All I know is that after everything that went down last night at the compound, I need some time to process.
I take a deep breath in and let it back out slowly, snuggling deeper into the oversized hoodie I found hanging in the closet. I guess since this place is used as a safe house, people bring stuff here and end up leaving it behind, so there’s a hodge podge of various clothing items in every closet and dresser in the house. And right now I’m thankful for that. Because this sweatshirt is a godsend.
Even though it’s warm outside, I haven’t been able to shake the chill that has plagued me since yesterday. Not even the hot shower I took shortly after we arrived helped. I’m starting to worry maybe I’m coming down with something. But seeing as I have no other symptoms, it’s probably the stress of this whole situation plaguing my body.
I jump when there’s a light knock against the open door of the bedroom. Turning my head, I spot Mateo leaning against the doorframe watching me.
How long has he been there?
We stare at each other for a long moment and as hard as it is for me to keep my big trap shut, I refuse to be the one to break this silent war we seem to be waging.
“What do you think?” He gestures around the room. It’s decorated in oak furniture and floral bedding. I get the sneaking suspicion that whoever sold the house to the cartel left everything behind and it’s stayed that way since.
I briefly wonder why they would do that, but quickly dismiss the thought, deciding it’s probably better not to know.
“About?” I act like I don’t know what he’s referring to.
“The house.” I give him an unenthusiastic one shoulder shrug. “You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that.” I’ve been quiet for so long it’s almost strange hearing my own voice. Like I had forgotten what it sounded like.
“Then what is it?” He steps further into the room.
“It’s just... Well, it’s not home.” I blow out a breath. “I’m starting to wonder if I’ll see home again.”
“You will.”
“Says the murderous cartel boss holding me captive,” I mutter loudly enough for him to hear me as I look back out of the window.
“You’re angry with me.” It’s not a question.
When my gaze finally swings back to his, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed a few short feet away.
“Are you just now figuring that out?” I snip.
“I don’t understand. What did I do?”
My brows shoot up. “What did you do?” I snicker.
