Chapter 8
ROSA
Two days later, we’re hiding in the back of the semi-trailer Rory found us at the motel. He’s done as he promised, keeping me safe. I can’t figure out how the men keep finding us. Two hours after the diner, two bikers ride up to our SUV. Rory out maneuvers the bikers, with impressive driving skills I didn’t expect, but it means we have to ditch the ride. As we get back to New Mexico, my heart wonders about the bar and the kind people who befriended me. That feels like a lifetime ago.
“Hey?” He pulls me into his body. The floor of the trailer is hard, and it’s pitch black. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was just thinking about the people I met in New Mexico.”
“It’s great you found good people. You had to leave because of those bikers, right?”
“Yeah. My family must have employed every biker in the country to find me.”
“I know it feels like that.”
The burner phone he picked up after we ran from the motel rings. “Hello? Yeah. Good.” He ends the call. “Fingers will meet us in Dallas tomorrow.”
“How do you know that the people won’t find us in Dallas?”
“I promised you’d be safe.”
“I know, but they keep finding us.” I’m beginning to think my father had me GPS chipped like a dog.
“There’s a safe place for us. It’s going to be okay.”
I immerse myself in his scent and will my body to relax.
RORIC
We’re resting in a safe house owned by our bratva. Quiet time plays havoc on my mind, and I’m reliving some of my latest assassinations. I counted up the number of people I’ve tortured and killed: One hundred and thirteen. Bile rests in the back of my throat. Not for the lives I’ve destroyed or taken, but for the lie I’ve told the woman who sleeps in my bed. Rosa’s soft breaths against my chest poke at my conscience. She’ll never forgive me for lying to her. The clock reads six in the morning, and I know Fingers should arrive soon. I push myself off the mattress and pad to the bathroom, peeing before I step into the shower. Put on your game face. Make sure Fingers can’t guess that you’re falling for the waif in the bed.
Fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opens, and she walks in. Her brown hair is matted and unruly, her face wears a crease from the bedding, and she smiles. Damn that smile. Twinkling blue eyes sparkle back at me as I step out of the shower with a raging hard on.
She points and giggles. “Someone’s happy to see me.”
“We’re both happy.”
She sits down on the toilet. “When will your friend be here?”
“Eight or so. I wanted to make food before he gets here.”
She dips her head. “That’s nice. Thanks.” She stands and flushes. “I’ll just grab my shower.”
My hand brushes her arm as she scoots around me to the shower. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
She beams, leaning to kiss my cheek. “I know. You saved me.” She steps into the shower as I hightail it out of the room, heading for the kitchen of the little two-bedroom bungalow.
Pulling out the pans and the food in the fridge, I’m overwhelmed by guilt. What the hell am I going to do?
Three minutes after eight, a knock on the door startles Rosa. I glance at my burner to see the video for the front door camera I put out for our safety. Fingers loiters on the porch. I turn to Rosa. “He’s here.”
Her nervousness endears her to me even more. I won’t let her go when this is over.
Fingers rushes in with his computer bag in his hand as he fumbles to open it. He stops short to stare at Rosa. “Uh. Hi.”
“Hi. I’m Rosa.”
“I’m Fred. Well, Fingers. Everybody calls me Fingers.”
“Hi Fred.”
Fingers beams at her as I shake my head. Damn flirt.
Rosa dips her head to me. “I’ll get it.” She walks to the bedroom and skips to us with the flash drive prominently held between two fingers. “Here.” She hands it to Fingers.
He takes the USB with a gentle touch and places it against his laptop to insert. “Do you know if there’s a password?”
She leans against the sofa, overseeing the dining table. “Couldn’t tell ya. I pulled it out of the laptop. I have no idea what’s on it either, though my father always kept it on him and was very careful with it.”
His fingers fly on the keyboard. “I’m sure that’s why his people want it back.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
I grab a seat next to Fingers as he opens files. Fingers lifts his fingers and turns the screen to face me. “No real protection. A small encryption, which I divested in record time.”
I glance at Rosa, who lifts her chin. “Feel free. I think I’ll go find something to watch on TV in the bedroom.” She leaves and Fingers elbows my side.
“Damn, she’s gorgeous.”
I keep my voice low. “You’ve seen her photo.”
“Doesn’t do her justice, man. What’s your father going to say when you tell him you’ve claimed her?”
“What? I…”
“Come on Rory.” He emphasizes the name I’m using and nods at the bedroom. “It’s obvious. Who can blame you? I’ve searched for everything I can find about her. She’s fucking Mother Theresa in a rocking hot bod and stunning face. She shares whatever money she makes modeling with people in need, and everyone who meets her loves her. Except her family. They just want to use her to make money.”
I grumble. “Over my dead body.”
“Yeppers. I get that.” He looks around me at the hall. “I haven’t figured out how they’re finding her. You might convince her to leave everything behind and start over. Maybe one of her bags has a tracker.”
“Take the drive to Papa, and I’ll slowly get us back to New York over the next week. That should give Papa and Cynric time to dissect the drive and find enough to destroy the Aguilars.”
“I assume that doesn’t include the hot chick.”
“Fingers.”
“Sure, boss. I’ll keep my ideas to myself. Do you want short-term rentals or motels on your adventure back to New York?”
“Motels are fine, but I like the Campbell Luxury Hotel in New Orleans, so book that and include a new wardrobe for Rosa with designer luggage, so she’ll ditch this stuff.”
“Okay. Tell her I said bye.”
We both stand up as Fingers collects his stuff to put in his backpack. “How much time do we have before they find us again?”
“If they follow the usual pattern, the Dallas bikers should be here in the morning, early. Might want to head out sooner rather than later. I’ll leave the SUV I borrowed.” He smirks to let me know he swiped it from the airport. “I’ll Uber back to catch my flight.”
Walking Fingers to the door, I notice Rosa watching from the hall. “Bye.”
“See ya.” Fingers throws up his hand and catches my eyes as he leaves. He won’t tell my father or Cynric.
ROSA
Rory convinced me to take a nap at the house so we could travel by night on our way to New Orleans. He thinks the safest place for me is New York, where the cartel won’t think to look. I’m not sure it makes the most sense, but I trust him. We’re heading down Interstate 45 South, in case we need to divert to Houston. It’ll take us almost nine hours unless we stop for more than gas. And I’ll have to stop to pee.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
“I’ve always wanted to see New Orleans.” I chew on my lower lip, thinking.
“Are you sad we didn’t reach out to your family?”
His comment catches me off-guard. He talks like we had a choice. “I’m glad we didn’t see them. I don’t want to bring trouble to their door.”
He reaches over the console and squeezes my hand. “It won’t be forever, and then we’ll get you back to your mother.”
“Pfft. I don’t see how that happens. It’s not like my family is going to just let me get away. At some point, they’ll find me.” Tears slide down my cheeks. “And you.”
“You worry too much. Let me take that burden. You just relax.”
“I feel so blessed that we found each other again. Thank you for taking care of me.”
Rory squeezes my hand again. That’s it? After everything, you don’t offer any words for me? My heart seizes in my chest, thinking I’ve given my heart, and he doesn’t care. Tears continue to fall, more for the feelings he didn’t share or maybe doesn’t feel.
“Hey?”
I jerk my head to stare at the man who barked to get my attention. “What?”
“Stop. Getting all worked up isn’t good for you. You have to trust me.”
I nod. What can I say? I trust him, but I wish I knew where this whole thing between us was going.
RORIC
It’s three in the morning when we pull into a diner off Interstate ten in Baton Rouge. The thud of the tires riding over the curb jars Rosa awake.
“Sorry, babe. I should have woken you when we got off the highway. We’ll grab some food.”
She scrapes at her eyes and reaches for the bottle of water in the center drink holder, taking a swig. “What is it with you and random diners?”
I shrug. “I like diners. People don’t stick out, and no one will be looking for us. We’re just a couple grabbing a meal on our travels.”
“Sure. But I have to pee.”
I park the SUV, setting up a camera on the dash and at the back window to keep an eye on the restaurant and the parking lot. There is a police cruiser parked at the space nearest the entrance. I stroll around the SUV and help Rosa get out. I pull her hoodie up over her head and tuck her brown hair under the edges. She really resembles the images of Snow White. Maybe we should dye her hair blonde?
The sign at the door tells us to seat ourselves, and we grab a booth at the rear exit closest to our SUV. The server hands us two paper placemats as menus. “I’ll be back in a few with coffee, water, and to take your order.”
The officers sitting at the counter offer a cursory glance at us before returning to their conversation.
Rosa taps her shorter, unpolished finger nail at the menu. “Whatever breakfast item tickles you, you’ll find on this menu.” Her eyes scan the restaurant. Various black and white photos adorn the walls. Oil wells, cattle, waterways, fish, and various birds give us a quick tutorial about life in Southern Louisiana. There are three other occupied tables, and a second server hovering around the counter. I can see a back room hiding behind a partially open door in the back of the diner, along the far walls. The hair prickles on the back of my neck as the server returns with the beverages.
An officer laughs with the other server at the counter as the doorbell jingles with two bikers strolling in. Shit.
Rosa’s eyes follow the tatted, leather-jacketed men as they grab a table by the door. “Could they…”
I give her a look to end her question. Snagging my phone off the table, I check the cameras. “We need to go.”
Fear crosses her beautiful features as she moves to exit the booth. “I still need to pee.”
“Go. I’ll cover you, and I’ll meet you at the back door.” She’s got new luggage and all new clothes. How the hell did they find her? My little voice answers. Maybe it’s a coincidence, and they aren’t here for her.
She slips around me into the small hallway. The officer who laughed at the counter studies the bikers as they try to look casual while perusing the patrons. My cameras clock a third biker arriving in the parking lot and my adrenaline spikes. Time to go. I open the bathroom door as Rosa steps out. I pull her around me and through the side door when the front door jingles again.
“They’re looking for me, huh?”
“Can’t take the chance. Let’s move.” Through the side door and around the front, we skirt the building and climb into the driver’s side door of the SUV. Rosa climbs over the center console to take the passenger seat as I start the engine, keeping the lights off as I pull us out of the parking lot. Onto the road, I hustle to get us back on the interstate.
“How the fuck do they keep finding me?”
“I can’t figure that out. I wondered if someone GPS chipped you, but I’ve seen every inch of your body, and there isn’t a scar. It wasn’t like they were expecting you. Maybe the cartel has hired every biker gang they can find. What if we left without them figuring out who you are?”
She smiles. “Could that really be true?”
“Not sure. Could be I jumped the gun.” Softening my facial expression, I need to help her relax. “I know you need food. I’ll find us some food before we get to New Orleans.”
“We’re still going there?”
“Yeah. We’ll stay in New Orleans until the day after tomorrow, get to North Carolina in a couple of days, and take the coast route back to New York. We’ll go slow through small towns, so it’ll take us a week to get there safely.”
“A week?”
“We’re going to be safe, baby.”