“I won’t. I promise.”
She waits another full thirty seconds before shucking her little shorts and T-shirt covering her black bikini. I bite my lip and forget the temperature of the water as she walks toward me slowly and takes my hand.
I back up a couple of steps until she grabs the band of my trunks, keeping me in place until she’s right in front of me. The waves push the water up past our hips, but she doesn’t skip a beat. She slides her hand up my chest and kisses me. I groan a little, pull her closer, and skim my palms over her goose-pebbled skin. The water’s cold, but she’s warm and soft. And perfect. And mine.
“I love you too,” she murmurs against my lips. “And I’d follow you anywhere.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Isabel
We sleep later than we mean to and hit weekend traffic heading east. What they call Three-Mile Bridge feels twice as long as we stop and go over the choppy bay waters for several minutes before finally crossing over into the next beach town. As we pass by shops and restaurants and parks, I think about Caleb the wanderer and the weather that had him worried, which must have gone north or south of us, because it’s been sunny skies since that spooky fog the other morning.
Just as I start to wonder how far he’s gotten since then, I swear I see him.
“Tristan, stop.”
“What?”
“Just pull over. Quick.”
The traffic is still going slow enough that he pulls to the side of the road without putting too much distance between us. I open the car door and get out.
“Isabel, what the hell?”
“I’ll be right back. I see Caleb.”
At least I think he’s the one sleeping in front of one of the beach-apparel stores, with his pack tucked behind him. When I finally reach him, I pause a few feet away and study his sleeping figure on the sidewalk. His head is propped up with a rolled blanket, and his mouth hangs open a little. For someone sleeping on the ground, he looks content.
“Caleb?” I crouch down and touch his shoulder. “Caleb?”
He snaps his mouth shut and opens his eyes at once. He blinks a few times before his lips curl into a sleepy smile. “Oh, hey.”
“I saw you when I was driving by. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He stretches a little and pulls himself upright. “Yeah, I’m good. Just taking a snooze.”
“I thought you’d be way past the bridge by now.”
“Oh, right. Weather went north, so it was smooth sailing. I decided to hang out here and chill for a while.”
I glance back to the car, where Tristan’s parked. He’s leaning against the side, arms crossed, with a tight expression on his face. I drive him crazy, but I think he’s learning to live with it. I return my focus to Caleb.
“You said you were headed to the Keys, right?”
He nods and scratches his head. “That’s the plan.”
“I’m actually on my way to Miami right now. Do you want a ride?”
I point toward the parked car.
He follows my gaze and stares at Tristan. “I’m good. But thanks. That’s really cool of you to offer.”
“Are you sure? It’ll take you a lot longer to walk there.”
He sighs and leans back against the stucco building, stretching again as he does. “That’s all right. I’m not in a rush. I’ll miss a lot of things if I hitch a ride. This way is better for me.”
He smiles, and I can’t help but smile too. I can’t imagine walking the length of Florida but find it in me to respect his decision. Hell, maybe he’s onto something.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out a wad of cash I withdrew from the ATM. “Here, will you take this at least?”
He waves it away. “No, Isabel. Keep your money. I don’t need that.”
“I think you do. You’ll use it, won’t you? Maybe get a room for a night or two? A nice meal?”
His shoulders fall a little, and I don’t see the same resistance as he had to the free ride.
“I mean, yeah. I’d use it. But I don’t want to take your money.”
Resolved, I push it into his hand. “I just had a windfall, so it’s your lucky day. Take care of yourself, okay?”
He takes my hand before I pull it away and gives it a little squeeze. “You too.”
Ten hours, three pit stops, and a power nap later, we pull into the circular drive at the Fontainebleau entrance and take our place among the Lamborghinis and Mercedes waiting for valet service. Royal palms and sleek yachts line the creek that separate us from the interior strip of Miami Beach’s barrier island, all set against the puffy pink sunset. Inside, the slick white marble floors and music thrumming from the poolside club just past the lobby are bold reminders we’re not in quiet Perdido Key anymore.
At the front desk, Tristan requests a room and waits for the receptionist to key in his alias. She smiles politely. “It looks like you already have a reservation with us, Mr. Gallo.”
He stiffens. “I didn’t make a reservation.”
“Mr. da Silva made arrangements with us this morning. You’ll be staying in the Sorrento Penthouse Suite. I believe it will more than meet your satisfaction.” She motions for a uniformed man nearby and hands him our keys. “Our bellman will escort you.”
Tristan sighs heavily but doesn’t argue as the man leads us to the elevators that bring us to the top floor. Once inside, he deposits our modest bags in the most opulent bedroom of the five we see during our jaw-dropping tour of the ten-thousand-square-foot luxury suite.
Tristan tips the man while I wander outside to the private rooftop pool and try to figure out how I’m going to lift my jaw off the stone patio.
“You look like you might be in shock,” he says, joining me.
“This is insane.”
“I think Mateus might be trying to impress you.”
“Nonsense.”
We both turn at the sound of Mateus’s warm voice.
He steps through the wide doors wearing a knowing smile and head-to-toe white linen suit. “This is my home away from home. Plenty of room for my friends too.”
He extends his hand to Tristan, who takes it and gets pulled into a manly hug.
“Good to see you, meu amigo.”
Tristan pulls away with a short nod, as if he doesn’t want to wholly acknowledge Mateus’s sudden show of affection.
Mateus shifts his attention to me, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips the same way he did the first time we met outside his house in Petrópolis. “Isabel.” His gaze is as warm as his greeting, but there’s tension underneath.
Tristan and I both look up when there’s motion inside. Mateus waves another man onto the patio.
“Tristan, Isabel, this is Ford. He’ll be on hand should we need his services.”
Ford is roughly twice the width of Mateus and at least two feet taller, dressed all in black clothing that contrasts with his golden skin and neatly trimmed blond hair. He nods to both of us, surveys the outdoor space briefly, and retreats into the penthouse wordlessly.
If he’s here to watch our back, he won’t exactly blend in, but after facing off with a man like Bones, I have no qualms about having a hulk-sized bodyguard shadowing us.
Mateus turns back to us. “He’ll be staying in the penthouse with us. I hope you don’t mind. He comes highly recommended, and I figured we could use the extra support.”
“Hopefully we won’t need it,” Tristan says.
Mateus glances between us, his gaze landing finally on Tristan. “On that note, we have matters to discuss.”
“We do.”
There’s a brief silence, and I get the strong sense Mateus wants time with Tristan, so I take my cue.
TRISTAN
“I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure I would be seeing you again,” Mateus says. The air is like warm silk blowing through the rooftop deck as we both take seats by the pool. “Don’t misunderstand me,” he continues. “I’ve always trusted your abilities. Ever since Karina, I knew never to un
derestimate you. But I consider you a friend, and friends worry.”
The natural response would be to tell him not to waste his time worrying over me. But his friendship—the one I almost destroyed at the end of a gun—is something I’m more willing to accept now than before. I suspect it has a lot to do with Isabel and the door she blasted open inside me. I don’t have a lot of familiar people in my life, but Mateus is one of them. My trust issues aside, his face is a welcome sight. That, and I have a good feeling he’ll be key in pushing this plan through.
“Thank you for coming on short notice,” I finally say, sidestepping everything else.
“I’m glad I can help.” He takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “She’s changed, hasn’t she? Isabel.”
I nod. In so many ways…
“What happened?”
I shrug. “Everything.” So much, it’s hard to know how to put it all into words. The evolution of us. The things she’s seen. The life of flight and danger we’re facing every day.
He silently implores me with his steady stare. “I came all this way for you and only you. You must tell me the whole story.”
I steeple my fingers under my chin and travel back in time, all the way to the night I deposited Karina on his doorstep, dirty and afraid. Even then he only knew half the story. I always held the truth back, and the longer we knew each other, the less I shared. Our friendship was held up on what I’d done for him and little else. But here he is, ready to make good on his promise after all this time.
For the next hour or so, I fill in the blanks about the Company and details about my past that have come to light. I tell him about Jay and Soloman and the Boswells. I recount Isabel’s traumas, from Brienne’s murder to Isabel’s faked death and the recent estrangement with her parents. I tell him about Bones and, even though that wound is still raw, how Isabel has changed well beyond her looks. She’s stronger, braver, and colder than she was when Mateus first met her. And while she’s folded herself into this life of mine, I’m starting to figure out how to fit into hers too.
When I finish, the only sounds between us come from the busy street and the poolside club pumping music down below.
After a long time, Mateus leans forward and rests his arms on his knees. “This is bigger than a meeting. This is a war. You realize that.”
“If we can take out Soloman, I’m hoping we can avoid the war.”
He shakes his head, and I brace myself, half expecting him to backtrack now that he knows the extent of our dilemma. A smart man would cut a check and walk the other way.
“I don’t know,” he says, his voice troubled. “Men like him are a cancer. You think you can cut them out, but the cancer is still there. It keeps growing because other people feed the pieces he left behind. To think you can kill him and hope to be rid of this Company is too simple. You should prepare yourself for what may come next.”
“I always do. I take nothing for granted. And I’m not stopping with Soloman. The Boswell family started all of this, at least when it comes to Isabel. They’re next on the list. And it may not end there either.”
“So what do you want me to do? How do I help?”
I exhale some tension I’d been holding. “Take the meeting with Medina. Let him know you want an introduction to Soloman for a job. And when Soloman is in sight, we take him out.”
He purses his lips slightly. “The target?”
I shrug. “That’s your call.”
His face splits with a smile. “And you think I must have a list of expendables.”
“I thought you might.”
He sighs and leans back again. “Why do they need a name?”
I lift my brows. “It’s not a job without a name.”
“It isn’t a job until Soloman accepts it. If I wait until the meeting with him, I could say any name or no name if the plan is to kill him a moment later.”
“If Medina accepts that, it could work.”
“I can be persuasive. To mark someone for death is no small thing, and even if my intentions were true, I wouldn’t utter a name without assurances. I don’t know Medina, but I know Soloman is the man who can make it happen, so it stands to reason I would want to wait until I establish some trust with him first.”
Hopefully it works out that way.
“How do you plan to kill him?” he asks.
“Depends on where we meet. He’s likely to recognize Isabel and me by now. We’ve been causing enough problems for him lately. Our faces will be on his radar. But we’ll be close enough to have eyes on the situation. I’m not letting him out of my sight alive, that’s for sure. We may never get another chance like this one.”
He’s quiet a moment. “Would you like me to do it?”
The possibility had already occurred to me. “Would you?”
He nods silently.
“He’s known to want to meet in public. Whatever we do will be in plain sight.”
Mateus smiles. “You’re the expert in that, aren’t you?”
“There are a dozen ways to end him, but I’d like to do this without implicating you.”
“I’d like that too.”
CHAPTER SIX
Isabel
My arms slice through the water, one after the other. My legs propel me forward for what may be the hundredth lap of the day. The total silence of submersion hasn’t gotten old, as the waiting game to hear from Javier Medina drags on another day. When I surface at the other end, Tristan and Mateus are standing at the edge. Tristan’s holding a plastic bag in his hand.
I walk up the steps and squeeze the excess water from my hair. “What’s up?”
“We have a meeting with Medina,” Tristan says, handing me a towel.
“When?”
“We thought he’d wait until Monday, but he wants to have drinks tonight.”
“Okay. So why are you looking at me like that?”
Tristan’s mouth twitches. “Mateus had an idea.”
Mateus looks as breezy as he always does, hands nestled in his pockets. “I’d like this meeting to be brief. I would also like to avoid certain…topics. All around, it would be better to achieve those things with a ready diversion.”
“What topics?”
“Specifically? Our target.”
I nod, relieved we’re not going to be sending anyone to their grave tonight who doesn’t deserve it. Then there’s the other matter. “Let me guess. You want me to be the ready diversion.”
“Not really,” Tristan mutters, which earns a partial smile from Mateus.
“Medina may be less likely to press me for details with an audience. And if he does, you can give me a reason to cut things short.”
A little flash of intrigue courses through me. I don’t know why, except maybe being a part of the action gives me a measure of control over my destiny and, with that, something to ease my fears. If this is going to be my life, I can’t live it on the sidelines.
“I’m in.”
The muscles in Tristan’s jaw tense before he lifts the bag toward me. “Thought you might consider changing your look. Just in case.”
I open the bag to find a few boxes of hair dye. There’s a joke about blondes having more fun forming in my brain, but then I remember I haven’t been having the most fun as a blonde.
“Works for me.”
A few hours later, my blond bob has been transformed into a deep brown that’s less youthful but markedly more dramatic, accentuating my natural features. I snag a little black dress and some heels from my suitcase when Tristan joins me in the bedroom.
His body is taut as a bow, his strides dominant and ready. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this. This must be the definition of insanity.”
I bend to slip my heel on, steadying myself on the bureau. “I think we both know it could be a lot worse.”
“Mateus can manage this on his own.”
“I’m sure he can, but why risk it? Obviously I can play the arm-candy part. Then at least one of us has eyes on the situa
tion.” I slip the other heel on. “Where will you be?”
“Close.”
I turn and go into the bathroom to straighten my dress and check my makeup. Tristan comes behind me, his heated stare burning into my reflection. He rests his hands on my hips and draws our bodies close.
“You’re beautiful.”
Warmth curls through me, an instant reaction I might never be immune to when it comes to him.
He kisses my bare shoulder without breaking eye contact. “I want you to be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
He slides his hands down the side of my dress, catching the hem and pulling it up slowly.
“Tristan,” I protest because we don’t have time for this.
He hushes me. Withdrawing his touch, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a wide black strap that he secures carefully around my right thigh. The material is thin but firm enough to sheath the blade of the short, flat knife he eases into it.
I trace the handle of it with my fingertip, memorizing its size and arrangement. The polished metal shines under the vanity lights. “You think I’ll need this?”
He covers my hand with his. “No, but I want you to use it if you have to.” He drags his gaze over my reflection, pulls our bodies close again, and then pushes my dress up until my backside is totally exposed. Looking down between us, he traps his bottom lip firmly between his teeth and caresses my bare skin. “This shouldn’t turn me on so much.”
The heat in his eyes matches the flames under my skin everywhere he touches me. The pure force of him existing in the same room does things to my insides. But the danger we’re dancing with every day adds a new dimension to everything we do now. The colors of the world around us are more vibrant. The air is sweeter. Every fuck is more intense.
Against every instinct, I reach for the hem and glide it down slowly as I turn to face him. “Maybe I’ll model it for you later. Without the dress…or anything else.”
A rush of air leaves his lips. “You may be more dangerous than I’ve ever given you credit for.” He leans in, taking my mouth with the perfect firmness of his. “Dirty little saint,” he whispers, his need like gravel inside the words.
The Red Ledger, Book 6 Page 4