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If Maizie had even received that call, or Stairns since the answer had come from a male voice, her friends would be sending help to the wrong place. There was no way to tell her she hadn’t phoned from the place where Jax was being hurt. Not to mention that in making the call she had now also exposed that phone number to a cartel. At least it wasn’t a physical phone at a location that would now be compromised, putting Maizie in danger. Rather it was one of Maizie’s cloud-based phone numbers that would alert the teen Kenna had called.
She didn’t need Navarro to go after her friends.
About seventeen years old as far as Kenna—or anyone else—could tell, the girl had lived enough trauma in her lifetime that she needed to stick to spa days, vacations, and anything else that would give her a stress-free life. She deserved it now that the man who had victimized her since the day she was born was dead.
Because Kenna had killed him.
Maizie currently lived in Kenna’s father’s Airstream in the backyard of her former boss and his wife. Safe. Cared for. Protected so she could heal in her own time, with the help of Stairns’ wife, who was a therapist or counselor or whichever. Kenna didn’t know the difference, and it didn’t matter. Elizabeth knew how to help, and that was all Kenna needed to know.
The tires crunched the gravel under the pickup truck.
Sweat rolled down the sides of her face. The smell coming from the bag on the passenger seat made the bottled water threaten to come back up.
She grabbed the handle for the window and rolled it down a couple of inches to get some airflow.
Kenna knew what she was capable of when faced with the worst kind of person. Most folks wouldn’t quibble about her methods when pushed to the extreme, but that wasn’t the kind of person Kenna wanted to be all the time. Those were the exceptions.
She’d made an oath to uphold the law, and then the FBI had forced her out. She wasn’t about to end up like Kart and his friends, living outside the law just because she had no tether to the civilized side of humanity.
She crested a ridge and spotted two men as they stood up on either side of the road, coming out of ditches they’d been lying in. All three wore military surplus clothing, camouflage paint on their faces, and backward ball caps over their hair.
If she hadn’t been studying their every move, looking for weaknesses since she arrived in this country, she might not have been able to tell it was them under the disguises. Kart and Benjamin.
Kart flagged her down.
Kenna eased off the gas and pressed down the brake.
As soon as she stopped, he pulled the passenger door open and spotted the bag. “What is this?”
“Your message from Navarro.”
Kenna didn’t let go of the steering wheel. She was about to hit the gas and just keep driving until the fuel ran out, but how would that help Jax? There were still armed guards at the compound. They would get word she was on her way to get him, and they’d be ready for her when she showed up to bust him out. There was no way she was going to leave him and escape herself.
That would be the ultimate betrayal.
Kart shifted. “What did he say?”
“I don’t think Navarro was too impressed with your attempt to weaken his operation.”
From what he’d said to her, it seemed like Navarro didn’t even keep any of his business dealings at the ranch. That place looked more like it was only his home, and not where he would keep narcotics or anything else he was smuggling—or anyone.
Kart handed the bag to Benjamin, then climbed in the back seat. He slid over so Benjamin could get in beside him, after tossing the potato sack onto the dirt.
The door slammed.
“Go.” Kart hammered the back of her seat with his fist.
She hit the gas and set off again, toward the compound.
“What did he say to you?”
Kenna could still feel the prick of Navarro’s knife on her neck. “It could be worth Jax’s freedom for all you know.”
“Unlikely.”
No, but worth a try. “If you want the mine, you can stop stealing from him and offer a deal.”
“He really said that?” Kart chuckled. “Well, I’ll be.”
