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I hear the truth in his words. I was worried about exactly that before we found out about the extra patrols along this part of the border into Texas.
“You’re more than welcome to join me.”
I see the challenge in his eyes. He won’t stop me from going with him, but it means leaving her behind. He wants me to choose crossing with him tonight.
“Lauren says that border patrol will move on in a few days. If you’re going to risk bringing her across, you should wait. I suggest dropping her ass off at the embassy first thing in the morning.”
“And risk Cortez having men on the inside?” I shake my head, rejecting the suggestion immediately.
“Do what you want, but that woman isn’t my fucking problem. I’m not going to spend another minute without Lauren and my baby.”
“You don’t want to get vengeance?” I challenge, as he turns to walk away.
Angel spins on his heels, his agility proving that he’s in fighting form, the opposite of me right now.
“We’ll seek vengeance,” he promises, including me in his plan. “I won’t stop until Raul Cortez is dead. But sticking around for her isn’t going to happen.”
He isn’t exactly being mean about it. He hasn’t given his opinion verbally on Ayla even though it’s very clear in his choices how he feels about her.
“Here,” he says, reaching into his pocket, pulling out another wad of cash. “Take this.”
I want to keep my hands at my sides but being stubborn right now isn’t smart. Pride, in a situation like this, can get you killed.
He presses the money and the key to room 207 into my outstretched hand.
“The rooms are booked for two days.”
“You’ll take this out of my next job?” I ask, already hating the obligation to the man.
He shakes his head. “Gave it some thought. Your job was to infiltrate the Cortez cartel. I would’ve preferred for you to be on the opposite side from what you actually were, but you did it, nonetheless. This is part of your payment for that job. Lauren will get you the rest once you get back to town.”
“We didn’t catch him,” I argue.
“Not catching Cortez was my failure, not yours,” he says before walking away.
I shove the money into my pocket, knowing having it out in the open will only bring unwanted attention. I debate heading into the room he just abandoned, but I doubt Ayla’s fear has subsided any, even with me out here. I have no idea how many people were able to walk by me without me waking, and that makes it dangerous for both of us.
I lift my hand, banging on the door with my fist.
“Nash?” she asks from the other side of the door.
It’s smart of her not to just jerk the door open but waiting out here longer annoys the absolute shit out of me.
“Open the door,” I hiss.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not going to explain shit through the fucking door, Ayla. Open.”
I stand in silence, no doubt her on the other side, trying to decide if opening the door is in her best interest. It takes a solid minute and a half before the echo of the lock flipping back fills my ears. I don’t shove open the door but rather allow her to open it.
She backs away, terror filling her pretty features when I step inside and close the door behind me. I make sure to reengage the lock. Her eyes widen, and I hate that she knows I could hurt her if I wanted to. I’ve done nothing to calm that fear in her. Explaining that I did the things I did to protect her doesn’t negate the fact that I did them in the first place.
I want to call her out on the incongruity of her choices. She chose to leave the safety of the hotel room with Cerberus. She asked to come with me. I never encouraged her to step outside of the safety their cocoon offered. It’s very possible she picked what she thought was the lesser of two evils, and I hate thinking that she may consider me one of the bad things in her life that she’ll eventually want to get away from.
“Angel left,” I tell her.
She settles just a fraction, making me realize that some of her fear stemmed from him.
“We have a couple of options. We can head toward the border and take our chances with the patrols, or we can wait a few days until they move upriver and try to cross then.” I release a sigh when she doesn’t speak, knowing there’s a third option. “Or I can take you to the embassy.”
With this suggestion, she shakes her head almost violently, her blond hair swishing, a strand of it getting stuck to her bottom lip. I do my best not to let my gaze drop to it clinging to her, but I lose the battle almost as quickly as I try to fight it.
