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“It’s not like that. Her father gave me the job.” Itisexactly like that, but I don’t feel like telling Beth and enduring her ribbing. For someone who spends her every waking minute glued to her computer instead of going out and getting some dick of her own, Beth enjoys giving others shit about their love lives.
“It’s going to take me some time,” she says after a minute. “I can’t give you anything right now. But I might be able to figure out coordinates to where the men who took her are located and help you find this Aguilar.” She glances up at me, pursing her lips. “In the meantime, try to get some rest? You look like shit.”
I laugh. “Thanks, Beth,” I tell her wryly, and she grins.
“Anytime. See ya, Flanagan.”
I’d very much like to take Beth’s advice and get some rest, but I need to get in touch with Liam and update him. He answers after two rings, his voice just as exhausted-sounding as it was last night.
“Give me some good news, Niall.”
“I don’t really have any,” I tell him tiredly. “Isabella was being shipped off to some fucker in the mountains who Diego will employ to make her a ‘good wife.’ I’m going after her once Beth gets me a lead on his whereabouts. But it’s going to be a few days for sure, if not more, before I’m in touch and need a lift out of here.”
“We’ll have someone on standby at the nearest tarmac,” Liam says. “But shit, Niall, Connor is going to be so goddamned bloody pissed about this. What am I supposed to tell him?”
“That I’m fixing my shit,” I say crossly. “I’m the reason it went sideways, aye? Me and my wayward cock, as he says. So I’m making it right. I’ll get Isabella back, drop her safely in New York, and Ricardo will be licking the Kings’ balls for the foreseeable future. Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Aye?”
I can hear the anger welling up in my voice as I speak.I should be home right now. I should be in my own fucking bed, far away from the desert and Isabella Santiago.
“Alright,” Liam says, his voice slightly soothing as if he’s trying to calm me down. “I’ll handle Connor. You just get the girl out of there, so we can make sure this entire deal doesn’t go to shit.” There’s the sound of a sudden, wailing scream, and Liam lets out a tired breath. “Brigit is up, and Ana’s barely slept. I’ve got to go get her so Ana can rest. Call Viktor, alright? He or Levin might have some lead on this guy, from Viktor’s old business days.”
“Sure thing.”
Viktor doesn’t answer, but I manage to get Levin on the line after a few rings. “I need to know if the name Javier Aguilar means anything to you,” I say without preamble, not waiting for a hello.
“Shit,” Levin breathes out. “Good to hear from you too, Niall—fuck.Javier Aguilar? Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not. But that’s what the guy sending me after his daughter said—who he suspects has her. I take it you recognize the name?”
“Yeah, I fucking recognize it,” Levin grunts. “Bastard used to be part of the Syndicate. Well, I guess he is still, in that Vlad could still make him do a job if he wanted to risk going down there and twisting Aguilar’s balls hard enough. But not even Vlad really wants to fuck with him, not unless he’s got the kind of job involving a woman that only Aguilar’d be willing to do.”
“I don’t even want to know what kind of job that is.”
“Trust me, you don’t.” Levin goes quiet for a moment, and I can almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the fuck are you going after Aguilar for? A girl?”
“Cartel princess. Her fiancé shipped her off to the man. You’re going to tell me not to go, aren’t you?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Levin says flatly. “I’d tell her father it’s a lost cause. You don’t want to go in there, not without an army at your back—and not with one, either. Too many men and he’ll see you coming; you’ll never get in. Just you—well, if he catches you, you’re fucking dead.”
“I’m more resourceful in a fight than you give me credit for.”’
“Aguilar doesn’t give a fuck about anyone. He’ll kill you for the fun of it, and he’ll make it slow. Tell this father—”
“I’m going after her.” My voice is toneless, flat. “I have to get her back. Just tell me if you have any idea where he is.”
Levin pauses. “Oh, so it’s like that.”
“Yeah. It’s like that.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Last I heard from Vlad, Aguilar has a compound near the Cobre Canyon. It’s a fucking fortress—and I don’t know if he’s still there. This info is from years ago. But give that to Beth, and see if she can do anything with it. It’s probably your best shot. And be fucking careful.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in New York before long with the girl if I get her back, so let Viktor know, aye? I’m done making calls.”
“Will do.”
I tap out an email to Beth, giving her the location Levin passed on, and then lean back on the pile of down-filled pillows, feeling exhaustion creeping down into my bones. I haven’t slept properly since the last night I was with Gabriela—Isabella—it feels like. Even that week before the gala, I couldn’t find that deep sleep that I’d fallen into every time she was in my bed, every bit of me wrung dry and satisfied by the time we’d spent together.
I’ve never felt that with any other woman, that kind of utter peace following sex, as if my world had been turned inside out and then righted again. I’d craved Saoirse the way I craved Isabella, but with Saoirse, we’d never taken it quite that far. Close—but never all the way. Never to the point of me inside of her, mouth pressed against her neck while her pussy clenched tight around me, holding me there, keeping me at home.
Isabella had felt too much like home for a fling. Too much like the kind of girl I could want forever. Taking her out to the desert had been a mistake, even if she hadn’t turned out to be the Santiago cartel princess instead of just a pretty girl prone to keeping secrets. Giving her the necklace had been a mistake. It should never have been anything more than sex, a palate cleanser to wash the taste of Saoirse quite literally out of my mouth—but somehow, over the course of three nights, she’d made me want more.
It should have been easy to put it behind me. I’d resigned myself to not seeing her again, put a week of distance between us, and then I should have flown home, so that there was an entire country’s worth of space. She would have faded in time, a sweet, beautiful memory.
Now it’s become a tangle I can’t escape. The feelings that sprung up during those three nights are still there, hanging on like clinging ivy on the walls of that old grey house, because I’m still here. Still near her, within reach, the weedy feelings of betrayal and anger rising up and choking them until I don’t know what to feel.
The only thing I’m certain of is that I still fucking want her. My body, my fuckingcock,aches for her, aches for more of what we shared together. And when I fall asleep, still in my clothes at midday on top of the luxurious duvet, it’s the last night we spent together that I dream about.
