Chapter 19
Gillian looked around the large ballroom at The Driskill with satisfaction.
Everything looked absolutely beautiful and the event was running incredibly smoothly so far.
She’d arrived at the hotel earlier that afternoon to make sure everything was set up to her specifications.
She’d put on the only dress Walker’s teammates had brought over from her apartment; luckily it was dressy and appropriate for the event.
She’d bought the light green dress one day while shopping with Ann.
Her friend had said it made the color of her eyes pop, and in a moment of weakness, Gillian had bought it.
When she’d come out of the bedroom with it on, she’d thought for a second Walker was going to bend her over the sofa and take her right then and there. She wouldn’t have been opposed, although it would’ve meant she’d have been late getting to the hotel.
Instead, he’d restrained himself, whispering in her ear that when they got home later that night, he was going to fuck her so hard she’d feel him inside her for at least a week.
Gillian’s knees had gone weak, but she’d merely replied that she couldn’t wait.
Walker had followed her around the hotel as she’d met with the various members of the staff to make sure everything was ready for the party.
He hadn’t been intrusive, standing off to the side, but he refused to let her out of his sight.
She’d had several people ask about him and his friends, and she’d explained them away as being security.
He and his teammates looked like models in their dark suits.
None of them wore a tie, but their white shirts under black suits made them look like they were straight off the set of Men in Black or something.
She’d gotten a few weird looks at her “security” explanation, but no one had questioned her further.
Lefty and Brain had studied the guest list she’d received from the Howards’ daughter and hadn’t found any names that had caused alarm.
Two hours ago, the couple of the night had arrived for what they’d thought was an intimate dinner for two arranged by their daughter, and had been pleasantly surprised at the huge party being thrown in their honor.
The cakes had been well received and devoured within an hour. The drinks were flowing from the open bar and the DJ was playing music that everyone, no matter their age, could appreciate and dance to.
Overall, the evening had been a success, and Gillian was relieved it was finally winding down.
“Ms. Romano?” a staff member of The Driskill said from behind her.
Gillian turned. “Yes?”
“Erhm…there’s been a problem with the credit card used to pay for the Howards’ room for the night.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll come with you and take care of it and make everything right with my client later. Walker,” Gillian said, turning to him. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to go to the front desk real quick.”
“I’m coming too,” Walker said.
Gillian wanted to roll her eyes and insist she could probably make it to the front desk and back without him watching over her, but since she truly didn’t mind, she simply nodded.
She followed the employee through the throng of people in the ballroom and out into a hallway. The hotel was older, and the hallways were narrow. Because there were so many people, and it was a Saturday night, it felt as if they had to fight their way to the front desk.
The front desk staff was slammed with all the people checking in and needing this or that, so she handed her card over to the employee and stood off to the side, waiting for her to return.
Walker was standing across the room, against the wall.
She caught his eye and smiled, loving how his face gentled as he smiled back at her.
A ruckus at the other end of the lobby made him turn his head, and Gillian looked in that direction. A man and a woman were yelling at each other, and the man reached out and shoved the woman’s shoulder. Gillian watched as Walker pushed off the wall and headed for the couple.
Of course he would. There was no way he’d stand by and watch as someone assaulted a woman.
“Gillian!”
Hearing her name, Gillian turned her head—and gaped at who was standing there.
It was Andrea. And she looked absolutely horrible.
She had makeup on, but it couldn’t hide the deep bruises on her face. One arm was in a sling, and she had a huge bandage on that hand as well.
“Holy shit, Andrea, are you all right?” Gillian asked, rushing over to the woman she hadn’t seen since they’d been rescued in Venezuela.
Andrea grimaced and nodded. Then winced at the movement.
“What happened?”
“I had to come warn you. I didn’t know where you lived but remembered you talking about this party when we were texting. The cartel kidnapped me and wanted to know all about the hijacking. They said they were going to come after you too.”
“They already did,” Gillian admitted.
Andrea’s eyes widened. “They did?”
“Yeah.”
Andrea seemed to sway on her feet. “Oh, shit, I don’t feel so good,” she moaned.
“Come on, let’s find you somewhere to sit,” Gillian said, putting her arm around the other woman’s waist.
“I shouldn’t have come. I found a place to park in the first row of the lot. Can you believe that? Just help me out there, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Should you be driving?” Gillian asked in concern as Andrea turned them toward one of the many hallways off of the lobby.
“Probably not, but I had to come see you. I didn’t want to say anything over the phone in case they were listening.”
Gillian looked back into the lobby for Walker. She wanted to make sure he saw where she was going, but he was busy trying to control the inebriated man at the other end of the large room. The woman wasn’t helping the situation, as she kept trying to hit her husband or boyfriend or whoever he was.
Thinking she’d just be gone for a minute or two, and Walker wouldn’t even know she was missing, Gillian helped Andrea limp down the hallway toward the exit. They went outside, and Andrea pointed at the far end of a line of cars. “It’s in the first row, down at the end,” she said.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Gillian said.
“Me too,” Andrea agreed.
When they got to her car, Gillian kept her arm around Andrea’s waist as she led them to the door. “Give me your purse, I’ll open the door for you.”
“Thanks.”
Gillian let go and dug into the small purse for the keys.
She’d just clicked the door locks when she felt something push into her side.
“Get in,” Andrea said in a tone Gillian hadn’t ever heard from her before.
She looked down in confusion—and was shocked to see a gun in Andrea’s hand. She’d shoved it against her side and was pressing it into her flesh aggressively.
It took a second for Gillian to comprehend what was happening. “What?” she asked in disbelief.
“Get in the car,” Andrea repeated. “Do it. Or I’ll fucking blow a hole in your side.”
“Why are you doing this? Did they put you up to it?”
“They? The cartel? Fuck them! I did everything they wanted. And for what? Nothing, that’s what!
I urged Luis to volunteer for the job in Costa Rica.
Salazar told us it would be a piece of cake.
Sinaloa supporters would deliver weapons to the plane and it would be easy to take it over.
And it was. That asshole Lamas was killed, just as we planned… but then you fucked everything up!”
Gillian was still trying to wrap her mind around what she was hearing. “Luis? The hijacker? You knew him?”
“He was my husband!” Andrea spat.
“But…you have different last names.”
“Which doesn’t mean a damn thing. It wasn’t hard to get false documents. Let me introduce myself properly—my name is Andrea Vilchez, not Vilmer. Luis Vilchez was my husband. The love of my life. And you got him killed!”
Gillian’s mind was spinning. “Me?”
“Yes, you bitch! We were home free, almost in the getaway plane. We would’ve taken off and flown under the radar back to Mexico, and we all would’ve been promoted from our flunky positions in the cartel.
But no, you had to go and trip Alberto. I don’t know why that asshole broke from the plan and decided to take you with us.
Then you tripped and gave those assholes a chance to shoot my Luis! You ruined everything!”
“But—”
“Get in the car, Gillian, and I’ll make your death as painless as possible.
If you don’t, I’ll shoot you in the gut, which means you’ll bleed out nice and slow.
Then I’ll go inside and start shooting the guests at your precious party.
I’ll save that asshole who killed Luis for last. Before I kill him, I’ll make sure he knows that his death is your fault. ”
Gillian wasn’t an idiot. There was no way Andrea would be able to kill Walker. Not with her being as beaten up as she was right now.
She was an idiot for leaving the hotel, even though she’d thought Andrea was a friend. But the very last thing Gillian was going to do was get in that car. If she did, she knew without a doubt she’d die a horrible, painful death, no matter what Andrea promised.
And suddenly, a phrase popped into her head.
Fucking bitches and their drama.
Gillian knew she’d heard that when she’d been kidnapped.
“You told Salazar that I knew more than I did, didn’t you?” she asked.
Andrea smirked. “Of course I did. And he did just what I wanted—he approved your kidnapping.” Her face contorted with rage. “But then you had to go and make him believe you didn’t know shit!”
“I didn’t know shit,” Gillian insisted.
“He was supposed to fuck you up! Take off a few fingers. Torture you the way I’ve been tortured every day since my Luis was shot!” Andrea hissed.
“Is that what happened to you?” Gillian asked, looking down at Andrea’s bandaged hand.