Chapter Twelve Seraphina #2
Martín Gabriel, who I’d always referred to as my uncle even though we weren’t blood related, was a good friend of my father’s.
He lived with his wife in Tulum. He was also the one who’d been helping me as much as he could ever since .
.. well, ever since my life changed. He’d provided me with an identity and safe passage to Mexico from Miami on Sunday.
He was very much tied to plan B as well.
Me: There’s been a slight change in plans, but you were right about ángel, and I think he’s on board. He’ll get there with a little pushing, at least. I’ll keep you posted.
Uncle: By change in plans, do you mean those men found you?
The blood rushed from my face, and I nearly dropped my phone.
Me: How do you know about that? About them?
Uncle: We have a mutual friend. I was given a heads-up they were on their way to you and to stand down. I was reassured by someone I trust very much that they’re safe. Good people.
Me: So, you didn’t tell this “mutual friend” where I was?
I felt bad even asking that, but this was quite the curveball.
What mutual friend was he talking about?
Who had connected Martín and Ryder together?
This was feeling more and more fate-like that I’d ever met Ryder in the first place.
That gave me too much hope, and I wasn’t ready to sink into that feeling.
It was bad enough I felt myself caving to the lure of safety Ryder seemed to provide just being in his mere presence.
Uncle: Of course not.
Me: If someone connected the two of us, that means Ezra might soon.
Uncle: You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve told you that a dozen times.
Me: I don’t want your family in danger.
Uncle: I’ll be fine. But would you like me to come to you now? Say the word.
Me: No, not yet. It’s still better for you to stick to where you are. Word will get out if you move anywhere in Mexico, and you know that. Stay with your wife. Keep her safe.
Me: I’m not ready for you to come here yet. Just digesting this new information. Let’s stick to the plan.
Uncle: If anything happens to you, your father will come back to haunt me. I’d prefer that not to happen.
Me: For a man who is nicknamed The Ghost ... I think you can handle it.
Uncle: Not funny. So help me, nina, if you die, my wife will kill me too. Then I shall haunt You .
Me: I won’t let that happen.
Me: And, Martín, I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Uncle: You’ll never have to find out. Call me tomorrow, or I’ll be on the next flight there burning down the city to find you.
Me: Roger that. Good night.
I blinked back the tears in my eyes, trying to stick to my guns.
Remain on course. Not to falter. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, particularly to Ryder, I was happy to have him here.
I didn’t want to put him in danger, but I was also afraid he’d never approve of my plan—and who was he to decide what I did or didn’t do with my life?
I set my phone on the nightstand while staring at the bedroom door, curious if Ryder was really on the other side of it. Then, against my better judgment, I picked up my phone again and went to the third contact. While I’d doubtfully ever forget his number, I’d added him anyway.
I stared at his name, my frustration with his growly alpha-ness becoming second to my gratitude for what he’d done tonight. You saved me last weekend. Wanted to protect me tonight. But also ... you’re here because you have orders, so there’s that to consider.
Me: How’d you even find me?
This was probably supposed to be part of our conversation for tomorrow, but there was zero chance I’d be able to sleep anytime soon.
Ryder: I see you didn’t forget my number. Too bad you didn’t use it sooner.
Me: I didn’t text, because I didn’t need your help.
Ryder: From where I’m sitting you did (and still do).
Me: And where exactly are you sitting? Don’t tell me you’re really outside my room.
Ryder: Right where I told you.
The man was possibly more stubborn than I was, and I shouldn’t have been smiling at that, or going to him ... but I did both.
I swung open the door, and my chest tightened at the sight of him. He was sitting on the floor, back to the wall opposite me, one knee bent and the other lazily stretched out. His forearm rested across his knee, phone in hand, and he pulled his eyes up to my face.
“Told you I wasn’t leaving your door. Unlike you, I keep my promises.”
“Low blow.” Even if fair. “You were a stranger in Miami.” Still kind of are. “Lies to strangers don’t count.”
“Stranger or not, a lie is a lie. Plan on telling me any more while I’m stuck here with you?”
“You’re not stuck with me. You can, and should, go.” I kept my voice low so Alex and the other guy with us wouldn’t hear.
“You’ve yet to answer me.”
“Well, it depends. Do you plan on following your orders and turning me over to whichever agency tasked you to find me?” I still needed to drill him about who he worked for, but since I had no choice other than to stay here regardless, I’d hold off on that conversation until tomorrow.
Same with asking him about the mutual friend he shared with Martín.
“I told you I’ll do what’s in the best interest of your safety.”
“That’s a nonanswer, and maybe I know what’s best for me. Ever think of that?”
“Nope. You have no damn idea, clearly, or you wouldn’t be here on your own, playing around with the cartel.”
“I wasn’t, and I’m not ...” I have people. Well, I had Martín, and he had people. Loyal, loyal people who’d do anything for him.
Ryder took me by surprise, abruptly standing in one fast movement, causing me to walk back into my room. I didn’t stop him from joining me. I even let him shut and lock the door. He shoved his phone in his pocket and faced me.
“Did I invite you back in?”
“The moment you opened your bedroom door, you did.”
I gulped, worried that little show of alarm was obvious to him and he’d be able to read me.
Read the fact that no matter how stubborn and fight-sy I was trying to be, I was losing the battle with him.
Those eyes as weapons and all gave him an unfair advantage.
He was able to peel my layers back and expose me as the woman I hadn’t been in so long.
The woman I’d left behind in California.
You fought for me. You’re nuts. I fisted the sides of my nightshirt. And sweet. No one had ever done something like that for me before.
Forget going to war with him; I was at war with myself. Hot and cold. Angry and aroused. All the yins to all the yangs existing inside me and between us.
“Well, now that you’re in my new prison chambers, what are you planning to do? Park a chair in front of my door and sleep in that?”
“Some prison.” He scoffed, looking around the beautifully decorated room as if he’d pre-selected this condo with me in mind. A woman with excellent taste no doubt lived here when we weren’t occupying her home.
“Better than the one I’ve been living in for the last nine months.”
He narrowed his eyes, a flash of darkness crossing his face. Not angry with me, but at a much more likely suspect: Ezra, the warden to my past prison.
Standing before Ryder now, I realized it was possible he was a much bigger threat than all the Ezras in the world combined.
Because I was here in Mexico for a reason, and that reason wasn’t to fall all over myself for a man.
A man who was staring at me like he couldn’t make up his mind what to do with me: yell at me, or fuck some sense into me.
And here I was, hoping for option two, which was why it was risky to be around him.
I couldn’t think straight in his presence, and I hadn’t since the moment we met.
Ryder’s gaze flew over my body, as if only now realizing I was in a thin pale-blue nightshirt that went to my midthighs, without a bra. Were my nipples the only thing hard right now?
“You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” His husky voice stretched out between us.
“That’s what I’m trying to prevent,” I whispered.
“Not”—he closed his eyes, expelling a deep breath—“what I was talking about,” he said steadily, nostrils flaring.
Ohhh. Turning to the side, I tossed my phone on the bed and demanded, “Look at me.” Probably a bad idea, since it was clear now more than ever that those blue-green eyes of his unlocked some deep parts of me I’d thought were gone forever.
“If I do, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.” The heat in his tone stoked the flames and had me padding even closer to him.
“Are you standing in my room because you have to be, or because you want to be?” Why’d you really take the case to find me? That answer would determine what happened next.
When he didn’t respond, I cut the space between us to nearly nothing and set a hand on his chest.
God, his heart was flying, matching mine beat for beat.
“You said you’re an honest man, so prove it to me. Tell me the truth.”
His eyes slowly opened, and his chin dipped as he studied my hand. “You know the answer to that.”
I wet my lips, waiting for him to look at me once again. “Maybe I need to hear it anyway.”
He gently secured a grip on my wrist and finally met my eyes. “I’m here because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for one damn minute since you climbed out that window.”