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"We're meeting someone in an hour. Be ready," I tell her as I fix my own clothing.
She dutifully prepares herself, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not following her every move. I can't wait to see how she will react when she sees the man we're meeting.
By all accounts, he would have been her person of contact at the drug facility, so I have no doubt she knows him.
Yet more than anything, I need to get my hands on the footage he has.
I'm willing to pay anything for it, too.
That, what is on that video is the only truth I'll trust. It will tell me exactly what happened between us at the hacienda and it should prove whether my shaky memories are real—that she'd taken advantage of me when I could barely move or fight back. Or…it might show me a different picture…
I'm both scared and excited at the prospect of watching those videos, but living with this uncertainty is slowly killing me. No matter how fearful I am of what I'm going to find out, I need to push forward.
"I'm ready," Noelle announces quietly as she comes to my side.
She's dressed in a pair of black high waisted loose pants and black a silky shirt tied at the neck with a purple ribbon.
The spot of color makes me raise my eyes, especially as I know the hidden meaning behind it.
When she sees my scrutinizing gaze, she gives me a tentative smile as she brings her hands to her front, fidgeting with her fingers.
"Do I pass muster?" she inquires softly.
"You do," I grunt, turning my back to her so she doesn't see my wandering eyes, and the fact that shemorethan passes muster.
Opening the suitcase Carlos had sent to our hotel, I take note of the array of guns he'd packed for me.
Damn, but the man sure values being extra prepared.
I choose two Glocks and holster them behind my back.
"Can I have one?" Noelle suddenly appears before me, peering inside.
"No."
"But isn't it dangerous if you're arming yourself? I can help…."
"No, Noelle. You're not carrying a gun. You're not to do anything except quietly stay by my side," I tell her, harsher than intended.
"Alright," she sighs, stepping away from the weapon suitcase.
A car comes to pick us up, and soon we're exiting the city to an abandoned warehouse somewhere on the outskirts.
Apparently, the man is more terrified of anything happening to him than I'd given him credit for. Yet I can't understand why.
Sergio is dead, as are most of the men who'd been involved at the hacienda. If anyone was left alive, I would have no doubt heard about it.
But he hadn't wanted to hear reason, maintaining that there are people out to hurt him.
"You still haven't told me where we're going," Noelle suddenly speaks as she sees us leaving the city, her eyes shrewdly assessing her surroundings.
“We’re meeting someone,” I say ambiguously.
“Who?” She frowns, and I can tell she’s growing suspicious.
“You’ll see shortly,” I add curtly, ending the conversation.
She purses her lips, clearly displeased about the fact despite promising me she’d follow me blindly. She might be able to relinquish her control insomeinstances—particularly in the bedroom—but in others, it doesn’t come easy to her.
