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As soon as he reached the sidewalk, he turned right and kept running for another two blocks before he dared to glance behind him. But there was no one following on his heels looking to inflict more pain.
Stopping, Will leaned his shoulder on a lamppost and drew in several pained, ragged breaths. His face was throbbing, and blood trickled from his split lip. One eye was already swelling closed, and while his abdomen hurt, it didn’t feel as if any of his ribs had been broken. None of it was good, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse.
This had been a warning. A fucking painful one, but a warning all the same.
There was no doubt that if Benicio Perez wanted him dead, his corpse would have been dragged out of that alley tonight.
If he continued on this course, there was a damn good chance he was going to end up with a bullet in the back of his head.
Did this mean he was going to stop?
Fuck, no.
It meant he needed to be smarter about this. The direct approach was not going to work. He had to come up with something else. Preferably after everything stopped hurting.
3
CHARLIE SANDS
Pacing. He was freaking pacing.
Even when Soren’s cover had been blown and he was surrounded by Russian agents out for blood, he’d been calm, confident Soren could talk or fight his way out.
But one tiny glimpse of someone who might be Will Monroe and he was a mess. Forty-eight hours had passed since that moment on the street in front of the gallery, and Charlie was sure he’d never relax again.
He shoved both hands into his thick hair and pulled, trying to get his brain to cooperate. It wasn’t Will. There was no way in hell that it was Will.
What the fuck would he be doing in Buenos Aires in the first place?
They hadn’t seen each other in years. Will should have a successful practice set up somewhere in the US with a cute little husband, a mortgage, and a healthy chunk of medical school debt.
But that guy looked just like the Will he remembered. Well, he was older. Even in the split second he’d seen him, Charlie could pick out the new lines around his mouth and eyes that made the other man seem harder and colder. It was one of the things causing him to doubt himself. Those eyes. They weren’t the eyes he remembered from Paris. Every time Will had lifted those beautiful ocean-blue eyes to him, they’d held such hope and optimistic determination.
That man wasn’t Will. Couldn’t have been.
And even if it was, what did it matter? He was probably in Buenos Aires on vacation with his boyfriend or husband. Their paths would not cross again.
Kairo shuffled through the living room, heading toward the kitchen. His expression was zombielike, his eyes appearing bleary from staring at the computer screen for too long.
“Please tell me there’s some coffee made,” Kairo mumbled. His black, shoulder-length hair was tied up in a messy knot on the top of his head and his usually neat beard was a bit scruffy.
“There’s about half a pot left. I think it should still be warm,” Charlie automatically answered as he followed his friend. They’d decided to rent a house for a month on the edge of La Boca. It wasn’t a posh or necessarily safe neighborhood, but after the locals got a good look at Edison and maybe even some dark glares from Westin, they decided to give them a wide berth.
The house itself was a quaint two-story place with four bedrooms and two baths, so they weren’t constantly tripping over each other, even if the kitchen was obscenely small. But Charlie knew better than to complain. Over the years, they’d been crammed into far tinier and less luxurious accommodations and survived the experience.
He leaned his hip on the bright-blue tiled counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you rest instead of throwing more caffeine at your body?”
Kairo sniffed at him as he grabbed the mug he’d used earlier in the day and rinsed it out. “You know I don’t like sleeping while both West and Ed are in the field.”
Charlie smirked at the shorter man. “I don’t think they’re going to get into any trouble, considering how weak our lead currently is.”
Kairo wrapped his hand around the handle of the carafe and lifted his tired amber-brown eyes to Charlie, directing an expression of utter disbelief at him. “Seriously? You don’t think they could find trouble?”
“Okay, okay,” Charlie conceded with a huff. “Yes, they could find trouble if they really wanted to, but they know to keep their noses clean. Besides, I can keep an eye on things while you catch up on some sleep. You’re about to fall over.”
Without pouring any coffee into his mug, Kairo replaced the carafe on the coffeemaker and returned his cup to the counter. “You know what? I’m taking you up on that offer. You keep an eye on those lunatics. Ed is watching Perez’s house, while West has got a spot outside the restaurant. The last check-in was twenty minutes ago. Benicio Perez was at the restaurant. West said that he’d return here when Perez headed home. Ed plans to come back here by midnight so long as the house is quiet.”
