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"Got it. And we are delivering the drugs to a client in Florida, correct?"
Enrico nods. "Yup. You'll grab a rental car from the airport and will drive back home the next morning. Be sure to contact me if there are any issues."
"Will do. I'll see you when I get back."
"Don't forget to bring the drug mule with you." He winks and pats me on the shoulder before walking toward an SUV, Fernando waiting in the driver's seat. Something is definitely going on between those two. Enrico can act like no one notices all he wants—they are both as subtle as a gun.
Waving him off, I toss my duffel bag and gun case in the trunk. After properly packing my unloaded gun inside the case, I close the trunk and slip into the driver's side. The keys are already in the ignition. Phillip doesn't look at them and is too busy fumbling with his hands. He knows by now what happens when you try to run from men like me or Enrico. This isn't his first rodeo. We are only meeting for the first time face-to-face because I don't usually deal with this side of the business. If it doesn't have anything to do with tracking someone down, putting a bullet between an enemy's eyes, or taking care of a threat in one of the clubs then it doesn't involve me. Not until now.
Phillip has been working for the cartel for a little over a month. Not many with his job make it this long lately. Either they die from an overdose, a deal gone wrong, or trying to escape. Each car owned by the Herreras has a tracker. The drug mule Phillip replaced learned that the hard way, not making it very far down the road when he tried to drive off in the middle of a delivery.
Starting the car, I glance toward Phillip. His hood is pulled tight around his face and his knees won't stop bouncing. You would think he hasn't done this before. He presses his back to the seat, freezing up when I rest my hand on his leg. "Settle,burrito. No need to be anxious yet. We haven't even gotten on the plane." The nickname wasn't supposed to be said out loud but came flying out anyway. It was the first thing that came to mind when I took in his nervous state. He's a drug mule who reminds me more of a baby donkey.
"I uh…have a bit of an anxiety problem," he says, slumping forward.
Of course he does. It would explain the melt downs Enrico mentioned. Hiding my frustration behind a tight-lipped smile, I nod in understanding and give his slender thigh a light squeeze. “How do you usually deal with it?"
"Meds and breathing exercises, but I try not to take anything during a job."
"Probably a good idea. You never know how medications may interact with the drugs or the acids in your stomach. We'll just have to figure out something else."
Eyeing me curiously, he tugs on his seat belt, pulling it so tight against his neck he's leaving marks. "I'll be fine by the time we reach the plane," he assures me.
"I know," I say, reaching for his hand and rubbing the inside of his palm until he settles enough to stop rocking forward. I've done this before many times. For someone whose name I've learned not to think about in order to prevent past pain from resurfacing.
“Th-ank you,” he says, biting on his lower lip, glancing down at our joined hands. Judging by his trembling fingers, he still needs me to stay where I am, so I do. I tell myself it's for one reason and one reason alone. I'm a fixer. Solving problems is what I do. His nervous shuffling and twitching is very similar to… the person's name I continue shoving back in my mind. So are his bright, scared, unavoidable eyes. The specs of gold are more noticeable when the sun is hitting his face just right.
As I pull onto the main road, I continue holding his hand, resting it on top of his leg, hoping the extra weight helps him to feel more grounded the way it did with… Fuck… The way it did with Lucian during his panic attacks. If we are going to get through this job, we first have to ensure Phillip is calm and collected enough to step onto a plane. I need to continue to be too even with Lucian's name rolling around in my mind and his face flashing behind my eyes. Being good and reliable at my job includes doing whatever it takes to come out of each task alive and successful. Holding Phillip's hand isn't worse than anything else I've had to do.
If anything, it reminds me what it's like to touch another human again. It's been a long time since I have. As strange and foreign as it feels, the warm sensation is also kind of nice. Not only has my line of work not required me to be this close to someone else, there also hasn't been any extra time for me to be with anyone on my days off either. They are usually used for catching up on sleep and the books Lucian gave me for each holiday and birthday we spent together. Lucian, Lucian, Lucian. He'll be with me all day now.
Other than the few clothes and money from under my dad’s mattress, the books are all I took with me when I left home. I read on the days I'm feeling lonely and miss my husband the most. It won't always be enough. The way I'm somewhat enjoying holding the hand of a stranger makes that more than clear.
Phillip looks up when I park in front of the airport boarding area, gripping his seat belt again. Releasing my hand from his, I brush my fingers over the back of his neck in soft circular motions. "Have you heard of the breathing technique 5-5-5?"
He shakes his head, his brows tugging together. Looking out the window and back at him, I point to the man wearing a blackuniform and a bright orange vest making his way through the long row of parked cars. "See the valet heading this way?"
Staring out the window, he nods. "Yeah."
"Good. I need you to do something before he reaches our car." We don't need any kind of unwanted attention during any point of our trip. Especially not this early on.
"What is it?"
"I think it'll help you."
"Okay." His eyes focus on mine as he waits for my next instructions, and his hands shake.
"Breathe in and count to five before holding it for five seconds. Then when you exhale, you'll count to five again. Got it?"
"Uh-huh." He adjusts himself in his seat to where he's facing the road again. The valet is four cars away now, and Phillip closes his eyes, doing what I asked. When he opens his eyes, I grab his hand again and smile. "Good. Now do it two more times."
The valet is two cars away as he begins the next exercise and he finishes another round just as the man is walking over to my side of the car.
"Feel better?"
The corners of his lips turn up a little and he squeezes my fingers, nodding. "Yeah. Thank you."
"All part of the job."
