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It’s the number one rule I’ve stuck with to stay alive for the past six years, and I wasn’t going to risk Isabelle or my life by making up some BS excuse at the moment.
Now she’s sitting next to me on Pablo’s jet, shaking like a leaf and thinks I’m one of them. Which right now is a good thing. It will keep her alive.
Whether Nathan had asked or not, of course, I’m going to keep her alive.
Keeping her safe is another thing.
I know what happens when we get home.
If she knew, she’d be a million times more terrified, and rightly so.
It’s taking every inch of my control learned in the Marines and as an undercover to look deadly calm. Instead of leaping up and slitting the throat of every man around me.
But I can’t.
I have too much to lose. I have women relying on me to save their lives—two hundred of them. Isabelle being here has thrown a huge spanner in the works.
I’ll find a way to help them all, but she’s going to need to follow my every direction.
Honestly, I have no idea how this is going to pan out. This is a highly dangerous situation, but like I said, I have to protect her.
Iwillprotect her.
I won’t let history repeat itself.
Not this time
My fingers itch to grab the knife strapped to my ankle and the Glock in my holster. The latter not a smart choice while we’re twenty thousand feet in the air.
Instead, I settle in for the long flight back to Mexico.
Pablo dozes off, his cigar filling the fucking aircraft. I’m so over that toxic shit. I’m looking forward to the day I never see his ugly mug again.
Jose and Diego, his senior men, lounge across from him. One of their legs kicks out, and I hear ice cubes in a glass.
I turn to Isabelle and nudge her water across the table. She glares at me, but there is only fear in her eyes.
“Drink. You need to stay hydrated,” I say quietly.
Across from us, Miguel, another soldier, snorts.
Fucker.
He knows she will be on the menu when we get home. I lift my face and smirk knowingly at him. Because that’s what Dex would do. Decker the Marine wants to crush his testicles while I put a bullet in the side of his head.
Jose catches our exchange and shakes his head, grinning as he rests his head back against the black leather.
We have hours of flight left and I need to strategize a way out of this. Hopefully, everyone will sleep and leave me alone.
“Where are we going?” Isabelle asks me, her voice shaking.
I hate the terror on her face and how she looks at me like I’m to blame. She’s not wrong.
I wish I could turn back time and watch her standing at the ceremony looking so goddamn pretty and innocent. She still does, but fear does something to a person’s expression.
It hardens it.
She’s in survival mode: fight or flight.
