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“We have a mutual enemy,” Jairo finally said.
Mathieu cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “Do we?”
“That bomb wasn’t meant for either of us,” Jairo told him.
“Wasn’t it?” But he had Mathieu’s attention. Who was the true target and what else did Jairo know?
“We will sever the arrangement between us,” Jairo addressed Win while holding Mathieu’s gaze. “But first, they must pay.”
They.“You know who’s responsible for the bomb.” But who was it meant for if not Mathieu and Jairo?
Jairo’s eyes glistened. “They’re supposed to be afraid of you, but I guess you’re not as in control as you think you are.” He smirked, tone mocking. “Cesar and his group of meddlers have aimed their hats higher than they can reach, it seems.”
Win’s breath hitched.
Mathieu made sure Jairo saw nothing of the surprise and fury that rolled through him. “Cesar.” That motherfucker and his crew went behind Mathieu’s back? Disobeyed his orders? If that was true—and he couldn’t be sure, not with Jairo as the messenger—heads would roll. The need to do violence flared again, hot and bright.
Jairo watched him, scrutinizing as if he could read Mathieu’s mind. “A threat was made on Win’s life. I could never trace it back to the source. Could never tell if it was genuine or not, but I put a bodyguard on him.”
Mathieu’s senses went on high alert. A bodyguard who was now MIA.
“You found out who was behind the threats?” Win gaped at Jairo.
Jairo glanced at him then away quickly. A dismissal. Or it would be if Mathieu hadn’t caught sight of the heaviness that darkened Jairo’s gaze for the briefest moment. “My men found out the bomb was planted by someone contracted by Cesar and his minions. It was meant for Win. There’s a hit out on Win.”
31
If he didn’t haveMathieu’s presence at his side, Win would have surely fallen to his knees.
“There’s a hit out on Win.”
Jairo’s words made him sway.
“And we should believe you because…” Mathieu allowed the question, directed at Jairo, to drift off as he settled a hand on the small of Win’s back.
Offering support.
Win hadn’t even considered that Jairo might be lying to them, and maybe he should have, but he didn’t think so. He believed Jairo because unlike him, Jairo had never lied. Jairo wasn’t one for deception.
“I suggest you protect him.” Jairo didn’t look at Win, but Win stared at him. It hurt more than he’d thought it would, to feel the distance between them. They’d been close once—
But had they really? How close could they have been if Jairo never really knew the truth about Win?
Focus.
He shook his head slightly. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. If what Jairo said was true, and Win believed it to be true, then he was in trouble.
“Why would Cesar want me dead?” he asked. Cesar didn’t know Win was the forger behind his entire smuggling operation. He couldn’t know of Win’s connection to Mathieu. They’d been too careful about that, which meant…
“You’re my husband.” When he met Win’s gaze, Jairo’s expression twisted as if he’d tasted something foul. “Maybe he thought killing you would incapacitate me, weaken me.”
Right. In the end, it came down to Jairo. “Little does he know you tried to kill me yourself.”
Jairo moved toward him, but Mathieu stepped in between them with a warning growl. “I would seriously think about my next move if I were you,” he told Jairo.
A muscle leapt in Jairo’s jaw, and his eyes glittered when they met Win’s. “If I wanted you dead, you would be,” he rasped.
And maybe he meant those words, but they provided zero comfort.
