by Pam Godwin
A hot ember formed in Luke’s throat, and he swallowed, grasping for words.
“I’m so sorry, Tomas.” Vera stepped forward.
Tomas held up a hand, warding her off. “I started emailing her. I just…couldn’t let go. I know she wasn’t receiving the messages, but I needed to talk to her. Fuck, I needed her. She was my best friend. My girl. My whole fucking world. So I wrote to her through email. For years.”
“The email account…” Luke cleared his voice, uncertain why Tomas chose this moment to tell him this. “It eventually exceeded its size limit, right?”
“Every few months, I cleaned it out. I had the password, and other than spam, I’m the only one who ever sends messages to it.” He held the phone up and stared in a daze at the screen. “Every time I go in to wipe the history, I intend to delete the account. But I can’t. The messages I’m writing are dangerous and stupid, but I can’t stop. I couldn’t…”
His spine tingled. “Dangerous how?”
“I’ve told her everything over the years. Every time a miserable goddamn thing happens in my life, I write it in an email to her. Every tragedy, every victory… Every secret.”
“What secrets?” Luke stopped breathing, seeing the writing on the walls.
“Our secrets.” Tomas met his eyes, his face bloodless. “I told her about Van and everything before and after.”
“Like a journal.” Vera touched her throat. “You write to her as if composing your thoughts in a diary.”
“Diaries are forbidden in our business.” Luke couldn’t stop the ire from leaking into his voice. “No incriminating evidence. You know the rules, Tomas.”
“Yeah. I fucking know, Luke.” Tomas bared his teeth. “I always email her from a fake account and also… She. Is. Dead!”
“Do you use your real name in the signature? When you end each message?”
“Just Tommy.”
“What about locations, events, missions? Other names, like Matias? Mine? Did you include any of that in your love notes?”
“Yes.”
“Goddammit!” Luke seethed.
“The night before we came here, I sent an email from a new untraceable account, stating it was my last message. I intended to delete her account the moment we returned. I was finally prepared to move on.”
“What happened?”
Tomas handed over the phone and paced away, gripping the back of his neck.
Luke woke the device, and an email app filled the screen. It showed the inbox of Tomas’ fake account, which had one single message. A correspondence with Tommysgirl.
Oh, fuck, Tomas. What have you done?
He opened the email and read the initial message. It confirmed that Tomas had composed a short, incisive goodbye to Tommysgirl.
Knowing the cartel monitored every transmission, Luke was relieved to see nothing in the text that could condemn their operation.
“Did you log in to the Tommysgirl account from this device?” Luke asked.
“No, I’m not a fucking moron.”
But there was a problem, and it stared back like a ghost from the grave.
Someone had responded to Tomas’ goodbye email.
His pulse exploded as he opened it.
Tommy,
Please, don’t stop messaging me. I’ve been reading your emails for ten years, anticipating and living each and every one. I’m sorry I never responded, but I didn’t know what to say. At first, I felt terrible for logging into this account. I found the login information in the pocket of a coat that I bought at a thrift store.
I shouldn’t have logged in, but investigation is my job. After your first few messages, I knew the account belonged to someone you lost. A girl you loved.
You grieved so painfully in every email you wrote I couldn’t ignore it. You loved her deeply, and I felt it deeply. I’ll be honest, I envied her. To be on the receiving end of such devotion… I wanted to be her.
But I remained silent. I listened and looked for signs of self-danger in your words.
Then your messages stopped. For ten weeks, I thought I lost you.
Until you wrote again.
You changed. After everything that happened to you during those weeks, you became so cold and angry. You needed an ear, someone to hear your story and watch over you. I was here for you, even when you thought you were alone.
Over the years, I felt your continuous evolution and adaptation to the dangers around you.
I know you better than you know yourself. I’ve heard every feeling and thought you sent. You needed this outlet. A place to share your thoughts without judgment or consequence. And through it all, I realized I needed it, too.
Please, don’t end this. I know you don’t know me. But I need to see you. I’ve been sitting on your emails for so long, worrying about your safety and telling no one.
I’m still worried.
I’m on the good side of the law, Tommy, and I sense you spiraling. You’re trying to do the right thing, but you’ve gone too far.
Meet me in one week. I know you have the means to fly home. Your childhood house is still abandoned. I’ll be there at sunset on Saturday.
Come alone.
“Fucking fantastic.” Luke passed the phone to Vera, his nerves strung like a live wire. “Assuming she’s a she, does she know where you are now? That you’re here on a mission that involves the Mexican cartel?”
“Some of it, yes. I wrote about gearing up for this operation.” Tomas set his hands on his hips, his posture challenging and angry. “I’ll handle it.”
“Yeah, you’ll fucking handle it.” He strode toward his friend and lowered his voice. “She knows who we are, what we do, and every crime we’ve committed.”
“She’s also delusional.”
“Whether you like it or not,” Vera mumbled, her eyes on the email, “you’ve been talking to this woman for ten years. She knows your entire life story, and it sounds like she just wants to help. Like she cares about you.”
“She’s in law enforcement,” Luke said.
“Doesn’t mean shit.” A vein bulged in Tomas’ forehead. “She’s probably a small-town cop. I grew up in the Chihuahuan Desert in Texas. She must be a local there. It’s the only way she would’ve ended up with my girl’s coat.”
“She probably printed every message you sent. She could send those transcripts to someone who can destroy us.”
“I said I’ll handle it.” Tomas gritted his teeth.
“La Rocha will see the email she sent, if they haven’t already.”
“There’s nothing damning here.” Vera gave the phone back to Tomas, her brow furrowing. “She was careful in her wording. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”
“It could be a trap,” Luke said.
“I’ll find her before Saturday and follow her.” Rage boiled through Tomas’ voice, turning his neck crimson. “I’ll figure out who she is and what she wants before she ever sees me. If she sees me.”
“You’re taking this personally.”
“Damn right, I’m taking it personally. She invaded my fucking privacy for ten years!” Tomas rubbed his hands down his face and reined in his temper. “I’ll be careful.”
He studied Tomas for a moment, gaging his friend’s emotional state. Tomas was the calm one in the group. The level-headed, stern-faced, untouchable guy who handled his problems on his own and avoided drama like the plague. He would deal with this as quietly as possible.
“All right.” Luke blew out a breath. “I’ll arrange an escort with La Rocha to get you out of here.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not. I planned this out before you showed me the email.” He glanced at Vera, bracing for her fury. “I’m going to make an offer to buy Vera, an offer the cartel can’t refuse, and you’re going to take her with you.”
“No!” Tomas and Vera shouted in unison.
“They won’t let me go.” Vera raged, shoving him in the chest. “Even if they agree, I won’t. I�
��m not leaving without you.”
“They will, and you don’t have a vote in this.”
“You son of a bitch.” She spat a rapid-fire barrage of Spanish before switching back to English. “I will fight you and—”
He clapped a hand over her mouth and hauled her against him. “Shut up and listen.” He looked at Tomas. “There’s a massive wall surrounding this compound. How many properties in California are built like this one?”
“A lot,” Tomas said. “Paranoid rich folks, hiding their dirty deeds from outsiders.”
“But you’ve spent the last few days studying the layout, memorizing every detail. Once you’re outside these walls, you’re going to pass along those specs to the team. They can survey maps and fly a chopper over the region. You’ll find your way back.”
Vera squirmed and bucked in his hold until he released her.
“Great.” She spun away, panting through labored breaths. “You can both leave and return with your army.”
“I’m not going anywhere until every single person who hurt you is dead.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“What happens, Vera, if all three of us leave and never find our way back here?”
Her stubborn chin tipped down, her eyes blazing with rancor. “The girls remain enslaved, and the bad guys win.”
“I won’t let that happen. What did you see on the other side of the wall?”
“I’m not agreeing to this.”
“Answer the question.”
“A junkyard.” Her nostrils flared with indignation. “The compound is bordered on one side by a massive graveyard for old cars.”
A grin pulled at his lips as he turned to Tomas. “How many properties in California are surrounded by a stone wall and a junkyard?”
“Probably not more than one.” Tomas’ mouth twitched, unleashing a matching smile.
“Excellent. I’ll arrange your immediate departure and negotiate a purchase price for my mouthy new sex slave.”
“You can go right to hell, Luke!” Tears welled in her eyes, and her hands balled into infuriated fists. “I won’t let you do this. They’ll kill you. No. You know what? Fuck that. I will kill you.”
She could despise him and curse him to hell. He would still win.
Sending her far away from this place was priority number one, even if he had to shackle and gag her to see it done.
Luke had to shackle and gag her.
By nightfall, Vera still wouldn’t see reason. She threatened to scream his secrets from the rooftops if he forced her to leave without him. She would never blow his cover, but he didn’t put it past her to race off and hide somewhere on the property.
He didn’t have time for that. So he bound her with rope and silenced her with a strip of cloth. Then he ordered Tomas to carry her to the waiting limo. The sight of her thrashing and heaving with every fierce breath in her body gutted him at a depth that couldn’t be mended.
He was hurting her in his attempt to save her. Taking away her right to choose. Removing her free will. It was the worst possible thing he could do to her.
Except risking her life.
From where he stood, ensuring she lived superseded all ethical and moral obligations.
Maybe his decision was selfish, but at that moment, watching Tomas wrestle her into the back of the limo, he realized he would never survive her death. He couldn’t even consider the possibility.
He remained on the sidewalk, stomach knotted, lungs collapsing, fighting like hell to maintain his ruse as a wealthy, suit-wearing, heartless slave owner.
His face felt like marble, his numb hands clasped loosely behind him. He was a stone-cold monster, who had just purchased a trafficked girl.
His first and last.
The negotiations with Hector’s four sons had dragged out for two hours in Marco’s lavish office. Over tequila and cigars, Luke cajoled, and the brothers strung him along with no real commitment to his offer.
His top price was one million. Six-hundred thousand of that was his own money. Van had given each of his ex-slaves that amount. It was the only money Luke had to his name.
Before he left Colombia, Martin and Ricky had offered their portions, as well. They desperately wanted Vera to be returned to Tula. Tomas had also thrown his share into the pot.
In total, Luke had two-point-five million to bargain with. But he’d had no intention of draining his friends’ bank accounts.
He was a fool.
Marco haggled with him for two hours. Marco’s brothers wanted no more part of the negotiations. Selling Vera meant surrendering their bait for their father’s killer. Of course, they didn’t know that Luke was privy to Vera’s true identity.
It had been several months since Hector died. Vera believed they were losing patience, and it wouldn’t be long before they killed her. She was a liability. A flight risk. Too smart for her own good.
In the end, Luke bought her freedom for three million dollars. A bid the cartel hadn’t been able to refuse.
If they suspected he had something to do with their father’s murder, he was the one they wanted anyway. Not Vera.
To seal the deal, he announced that he would be staying on the property for the remainder of the week with the possibility of purchasing a second girl.
Dollar signs glowed in four pairs of gluttonous eyes.
Another three-million-dollar purchase? He didn’t have that kind of money. But they didn’t know that.
When he’d left Marco’s office, he’d sent a message to one of the burner phones that Matias Restrepo carried. The cartel jefe agreed to cover the half-million that Luke was short for the purchase of Vera.
It was a huge ask. Camila’s husband had already invested a hefty chunk of change into this operation. If Luke succeeded in taking down La Rocha, maybe he could liquidate La Rocha’s assets and recoup the investment. But there was no guarantee.
There was no guarantee he would ever see his friends again.
From within the limo, Tomas signaled him to approach. With a calming breath, he moved on lead feet and bent into the open doorway.
Shackled to one of the long benches, Vera sank her teeth into the gag and glared at him with pure venom in her eyes. A wet sheen shimmered along her lashes and welled in the corners.
He felt sick to his stomach.
Straps crisscrossed her torso, restraining her to the seat. She still fought, bucking and snarling, her chest rising and falling with the furor of her breaths as a livid flush reddened her cheeks.
She was pissed. But more than that, she was terrified. For him.
Tomas perched beside her, donning a stoic expression. Across from them sat their escort. Probably the same man who had accompanied them here a few days ago.
“She doesn’t look happy to be your new toy.” The man chuckled.
“Are any of them happy at first?” Luke forced a smile with predatory teeth. “Give me a minute with her.”
With a nod, the man slid out of the limo, and Tomas followed.
He shifted back to Vera and cupped her face. “I know you’re angry.”
Muffled screams clotted the air, her eyes shouting viciously over the gag.
“Shh.” He kissed the curve of her neck, the hollow between her collarbones, and the rough fabric over her mouth. “I’m yours. From now until the termination of my soul, I belong to you and you alone.”
Tears stole along her cheeks and dampened the gag. He leaned in and caught the streams with his thumbs, then his lips. Suddenly, viscerally aware of the pounding of his heart against her breasts, the feel of her soft curls against his neck, he wrenched her legs open and knelt between them.
Without a moment’s hesitation, their bodies sought, instantly gravitating together with the torment of their impending separation. He pressed his lips to her face, her heart, and everywhere, claiming her with each kiss, each ragged breath drawn as one. When the violence of her grief grew too great, he touched her with worshiping hands, caressing her skin and c
lasping her body to his.
She began to tremble, crying out in muzzled, wordless misery, then again when he pulled away.
Tremors of anger rocked him, ignited by the salty taste of her tears on his tongue and the primal, instinctual impulse to never let her out of his sight.
But above all, he needed her safe.
Behind him, Tomas cleared his throat. Then a black hood was pressed into his hand.
“Don’t give Tommy any trouble.” He slipped the material over her head and held it against her brow. “I’ll see you soon.”
She whimpered, a desperate edge of anguish that locked up his lungs. He might never see her again. He trusted Tomas to keep her safe, but Luke would be on his own. He might not make it out of here alive, and she knew it.
It was why she had to be shackled. His little fighter would’ve never willingly left him.
I love her.
The realization rose from deep inside him and fired through his bloodstream. He would tell her when they reunited. He would see her again if only to give her the three words he’d never given anyone else.
He held her gaze a moment longer, kissed her lips around the gag, and lowered the hood.
She didn’t cry. Didn’t kick or growl. Instead, she composed herself, sitting calmly in utter blackness as he backed away.
So much strength in this woman. He was completely and irrevocably besotted.
Passing Tomas on the way out of the limo, he gave his friend a squeeze on the arm. Then he turned and ambled toward the entryway, unable to breathe.
There, he watched the cartel escort climb in. He didn’t move as the limo pulled away. He didn’t take a breath until they vanished around the bend. He couldn’t help it. His precious, beautiful future was in that car, and she was on her way to safety.
The most important part of the operation had been accomplished. She would be reunited with her sister by tomorrow morning.
Now he had to finish this.
As he made his way back to his room, his mind circled around the plan he and Tomas had devised after the meeting with Marco. He couldn’t sit around and wait for backup. His team could take weeks to locate him and mobilize an attack.