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My phone lit up again, with Emerson’s name, and my heart started pounding.
“Clue us in,” I barked out.
“Whoa, easy!” It was Danny. “I called as fast as I could, bro. Didju talk to Coach?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Jorge’s been singing like a fuckin’ canary. How he’s lasted in the cartel this long is a mystery—I’ll let you hear for yourself when we meet up.” He cleared his throat as someone screamed in the background. They had to be on the boat. And Jorge had to be suffering. “Details later?”
“Get to the point,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.
River shuffled closer to listen in.
“Jorge sent Shay and three guards down to Colombia as a peace offering to Luca Blanco,” Danny replied stoically. And I fucking stopped breathing. Someone might as well have stabbed me right in the ticker. “In short, Jorge flipped, and he wants to do anything to get back in the Blancos’ good graces—”
“Why are we believing a single word he’s saying?!” I yelled. I couldn’t fucking help it. This was moving too fast, even for me, and nothing made sense. Cartels didn’t offer second chances. It was Cartel 101. A high-ranking member like Jorge would know that. Goddammit!
“Put River on the phone,” Danny demanded.
“I’m here,” River said flatly. “So it’s not what he said, but what he’s not saying?”
“We found travel documents,” Danny confirmed. “Once we had intel, he couldn’t deny shit. He’s desperate—and has a very low threshold for pain.” He couldn’t have toldmethat? “According to the documents, Shay’s somewhere in Mexico City now, where a local crew will escort him down to El Salvador. From there, he’s on a plane to Monteria, then Pasto.”
I let River take the phone, and he put Danny on speaker. I couldn’t hold anything without crushing it to pieces. I couldn’t stand still either. I turned around and kicked the chair, sending it flying into the barn. Luiz woke up, startled.
I’m so fucking sorry, Shay. I’m sorry, baby. We’re gonna make it all right. They won’t draw breath for much longer. I’m sorry. They’re dead. Each and every one of them.
My fucking God, he had to be terrified.
“Help me connect the dots here,” River said quietly, his voice trembling with anger. “Why would Shay be a peace offering?”
Danny exhaled heavily. “Your boy’s earned himself a reputation as a fighter since he was taken.”
I closed my eyes and felt all blood drain from my face.
Of course.
River cleared his throat, so I opened my eyes again, and I saw my worst fears confirmed in his expression. “He’s the new entertainment.”
“Unless we get to him first.” Danny’s tone filled with force. “It’s a long journey, and they’re traveling by small aircraft or on dirt roads.”
The man, Jorge, screamed bloody murder in the background again, and I heard Emerson yell out demands for answers.
Something died within me. Like a flip of a switch, all the light went dark, my future was erased once more, wiped fucking clean, and there was no tomorrow.
“Ventura marina, zero four hundred, we’ll be there,” I said.
Shay had been a cage fighter before. Dumb shit—he’d tried to make money for his brothers by fighting bullies on steroids who probably owed the wrong people money. But that hadnothingon what was waiting for him in Colombia. Theirentertainment…ended in death.
“Mathis will bring you to us,” Danny told us. “By noon tomorrow, there’s a plane for us in Ensenada. Bring all the gear you have.”
“Roger,” I said.
“See you soon.” River ended the call and extended the phone.
As I pocketed it—and made a mental reminder to update Greer on where we were going—River stalked into the barn and went straight to Luiz.
The guy widened his eyes, fear evident.
