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She’s Mia’s friend.
Todd’s fiancé.
My stead and responsibility.
That’s all. And yet, I would give anything to see her smile, to feel my cock sink deep inside her. I’d love to sit with her on a ski lift in the Alps and see those bright blue eyes of hers smile as I kiss her mouth and tell her that I—
“They have her in Santillo,” Javier says and gives me details of the property. I know the place. I’ve been there a handful of times.
I flick the indicator on, pull into the traffic, then yank the steering wheel and plant my foot on the accelerator. It does two things that make me happy: it puts us on the right side of the road and on the right path to save Isabelle, and it throws Nate back in his seat.
Well, three—I leave a bunch of rubber behind, and that feels fucking good right about now.
It’s a five-hour drive, and unfortunately, that’s ample time for anything to happen to her or to lose her.
“I’ll ring Ana when we arrive, and I have eyes on Isabelle. She will have the money soon after,” I say, weaving through traffic. “The rest when you call me with the shipment photo.”
Then I hang up.
“You trust him?” Mack asks.
“No, but we have nothing else. He’s likely telling the truth,” I say.
“Jesus,” Nate curses. I’m still mad at him, but our relationship and bond go way deeper. And it’s time both he and Mack understood what’s really going on.
“Isabelle is mine to protect. I want to be clear on that,” I rumble, leaning my arm on the door.
Their silence tells me they understand.
“You fucked her.” Mack shakes his head. “What is it with you guys right now? Christ.”
Nathan snorts.
“No, I didn’t fuck her.”
I fell in love with her.
However, that’s my business and for me to deal with at a later date. Right now, it’s fueling me and I’m going to use that passion to get Isabelle back.
Then hand her over to another man.
If she chooses him.
“We have a human shipment coming into Sinaloa with over two hundred bodies,” I say, and both of them curse.
“Fuck, I’m sick of this shit. It’s like nothing we’ve done has changed a goddamn thing,” Nate says.
“I get it,” I say, turning onto the highway and pushing the speed limit. “But we can stop this one.”
I’m going to try, at least. Not at the cost of Isabelle’s life, however. Not again.
Javier better come through, or I will make him wish he had. I might be some kind of fucked up hero, but there is a dark side to me that has no problem putting a gun to the head of drug and human slave traffickers.
They are the scum of society who have zero compassion for the pain and suffering they cause others.
“I’ll line it up,” Mack says, pulling out his phone while Nate opens a laptop and starts looking at the blueprints of the property where Isabelle is being held.
Over the next hour, I feel calmer as we plan our operation. We stop once to empty our bladders and fill our stomachs. Then I park the Porsche a few yards away after driving past the house once.
