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I want to explain, but I don’t have any fucking answers either.
I never should’ve lied to Angel, but honestly, I don’t owe him a damn thing. It doesn’t mean the man won’t be pissed, and fuck if Lauren is there. Then things can really get bad.
Tears streak down her face as she drives, and I fucking hate Nash for scaring her. Her hands are trembling on the steering wheel, and I can see the shake in her leg as she presses the gas pedal.
“Mads,” I say, but she keeps her eyes locked on the road in front of her.
I don’t know if she believes me about not being in danger. Nash doesn’t seem like the type to hurt women, but I can’t shove down the idea that maybe he was somehow turned by Alessio Severino. There’s always a chance that the guy is just as evil. I don’t know him well enough. Anyone working with Angel isn’t exactly doing things above board. We all have a price, and Nash is not excluded from that.
I twist in the passenger seat, looking at Nash. His gun is still out although lowered in his lap. He seems more curious about Madelene than concerned about me, and I hate the attention he’s giving her.
“Stop fucking looking at her,” I hiss, hating the smile it draws to his face.
“I’m so fucking confused right now,” he says, his eyes slow to pull from the back of her head to look at me. “Left up here.”
Mads obeys the man, her tears still flowing as she sniffles.
“You’re fucking scaring her. Tell her she’s safe,” I demand.
As if I’m an exhibit at a circus, Nash looks at me like he just can’t figure me out. He doesn’t say another word until we’re less than a block from Angel and Lauren’s office.
“Park in the front.”
She obeys, her hand shaking wildly as she grabs the gear shift and places the truck in park.
“Get out and walk around to open our doors,” Nash says, pointing his gun at her.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” I threaten. “Don’t point that fucking thing at her.”
Nash chuckles as if my words have proven something to him. Madelene climbs out of the truck and for a second, I wish she would just take off. I doubt Nash or Angel will actually fucking hurt me, but Angel’s client, her father, may be calling the shots. I doubt he has his daughter’s best interest at heart because the man practically bargained his life for hers with the Severino family. His intentions can’t be trusted.
As if she’s been forced to do shit in a situation like this, Madelene opens Nash’s door first without being instructed, helping to maintain his control over the situation. As much as I’d like to be the fucking hero, I’m extremely limited in what I can do. The look in her eyes tells me that she won’t run, even if I knock him over and give her the chance.
I feel a little calmer when I climb out of the truck and notice that Nash has put his gun away. We don’t draw too much attention as Nash ushers me toward the front door of the office.
I imagine people think Mission Mercenaries, which is on the front door along with the skull logo, is some type of bounty hunting agency. It wouldn’t be that big of a shock to see people in handcuffs being escorted inside. I’ve only been here twice before and the jobs I’ve worked through the agency have all ended with people’s deaths. We don’t exactly drag people back to the office in order to seek justice. We send them to their maker where we find them.
As expected, Nash has to knock on the door. It constantly stays locked because the business is actually just a front for what we really do. I never understood why they have a fucking office anyway, but I imagine it has to do with taxes and laundering money. Who the fuck am I to judge how people get their money? I have an issue with people hurting other people. I don’t give two shits about anyone fucking over a government agency.
I’d wrap my arms around her if I could, but I have to settle for her sticking close to my side as we wait for someone inside to open the door.
The click of the lock on the door being opened doesn’t bring any sort of relief. Lauren narrows her eyes at me when she pulls the damn thing open. It takes her a long moment to step aside so we can enter, and I wonder if she’s really debating leaving us standing out on the sidewalk, drawing attention from the other businesses.
“I found the girl,” Nash says after we all walk inside. “Under Hollis in McAllen.”
I’m simmering with rage, waiting for Madelene to speak up and tell everyone that’s not exactly what was happening, but at least Nash didn’t use the word rape.
