Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Beckett pulled on a pair of jeans and grabbed a T-shirt from his bag, moving quietly around the hotel room that morning, careful not to wake Sydney.
They’d only fallen asleep around two a.m. after a night of lovemaking, and he was supposed to meet Jesse at six. He wanted Sydney to rest since she’d be singing that night. The idea of her seducing a psychopath made him crazy, but what could they do? He sure as hell didn’t want her lack of sleep throwing her off later.
He slipped on his shoes, his gaze lingering on the beautiful path of her spine that led to the slopes of her ass. The covers were shoved to the bottom of the bed, and her arm was draped over her head, her face turned to the side.
God, she was beautiful. And last night had been . . .
He didn’t have words to describe it. She was one of a kind, that was for sure.
Hell, she’d asked him to spank her on their second go at it. Harder , she’d begged, and it’d been almost too hard for him to do that. He didn’t want to hurt her. But she’d whimpered from pleasure at the contact. His handprint had remained on her ass cheek after he’d taken her pussy from behind and plowed deep inside her.
Beckett quietly approached the bed and did his best to cover her without rousing her from sleep. Satisfied he’d done so without disturbing her, he turned toward the bathtub, which had triggered his slightly crazy, possessive behavior last night.
He had no idea if she’d be his for just this trip, and that they’d only made love because of their forced proximity. And the thought had his heart feeling like it was going through a meat grinder as he started for the door.
But he needed to focus. Shove his emotions to the back corner of his mind, something he used to be great at doing. Until now. Until this woman.
Beckett tossed one last look at her sleeping, his heart aching at the mere sight of her, then he grabbed his wallet, new phone, and keycard and went downstairs to the coffee shop.
He spotted Jesse by the window that looked out onto the street. He had a newspaper in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee on the bar attached to the window he was facing. His back was to the coffee shop, and while Beckett stood in line to place his order, he looked around for cameras.
There was one in the ceiling behind the register, but he was pretty sure Jesse was just outside the camera’s line of sight.
After getting his black coffee in a mug, he removed his phone from his pocket and joined Jesse at the standing bar area. He kept a little space between them and set his cup down before scrolling through the phone Carter had provided him back at the safe house, ensuring it was on silent and wouldn’t ring.
“Good to see you alive,” Beckett said once he held the phone to his ear, faking a phone call.
“You too.” Jesse folded the sports section of the paper and placed it by his coffee before opening the stock market section, feigning interest in Wall Street. “Sharing a room with Sydney? Hope she’s not being too rough on you,” he mused.
“No, she’s quite . . .” Soft? He decided not to finish his line of thought. It’d be too complicated. Instead, he quickly filled him in the best he could on what had gone down and their plans for the night leading up to Jorge’s party Friday.
Jesse casually looked over his shoulder toward the cafe before returning his focus to flipping pages.
“Ella knows you’re safe,” Beckett added. “Well, as safe as you can be. She’s strong.”
Jesse set down his paper and sipped his coffee, keeping quiet for a bit as he processed the information Beckett had shared along with his mention of Ella.
When Jesse discarded his coffee on the narrow bar counter, exchanging it for the paper again, Beckett asked, “Did you have a chance to talk to Ivy alone?”
Jesse stole a quick look from the corner of his eye at Beckett. “Yeah, I have news I didn’t want to share over the phone. And I wanted it to be with you first.”
Beckett’s heart shot up into his throat at his words, and he ended his fake call and set the phone down in preparation for the news. “Mind if I have a look at the sports section?” He pointed to Jesse’s paper.
“Sure.” Jesse slid it over to him as he shared, “Cora wasn’t dating Jorge.”
Wasn’t? But he tried not to jump to conclusions at his use of the past tense. “So, then, who?”
“She lives at his estate, but it’s because she targeted someone from his security team who’s been with Jorge for a decade. Easier prey, Ivy had said. While still acquiring her desired life of luxury.” Jesse paused to let the news sink in. “A man like Jorge is too cautious to be conned.”
“Too guarded,” Beckett translated, and the nickname made sense yet again. “Are we right about the club and drug swap theory?” he whispered, then did a quick check behind him to ensure they were still alone aside from a few businessmen in line for coffee. “Did Ivy mention the name Hector Lopez to you?”
“Yes, to both,” Jesse confirmed. “Three weeks ago, Cora called Ivy in a panic when she saw Hector at Jorge’s place in Santiago. She overheard he was there with his cousin, negotiating a deal to sell Jorge the club. She’d planned to steer clear of him, worried he’d remember her, but I’m guessing he spotted her, and that’s when she called you. But that was the last call she made.”
“Has Miguel mentioned Cora? Do we know if she was turned over to the cartel? Is she still alive?” he rushed out the questions in as low of a voice as possible.
“Yeah, um.”
Fuck that um. Damn it. What was Jesse worried about sharing? Is Cora already dead?
“Ivy knew Miguel would be going to Chile to finalize the sale of the club, so she’s been waiting for her chance to come down here. To find out if Cora’s alive.”
“And is she still alive?” Beckett asked, willing himself to remain calm even as his stomach felt all fucking weird.
“Yes, she’s still alive. I heard Miguel mention her, but Miguel is clueless Cora and Ivy are related,” Jesse shared, and Beckett tipped his head to the ceiling at the news. There was still a chance to save McKenna’s mother. Not that he knew what to do with that woman after all of this, but he owed it to his daughter to try. That was why he was there, right?
“But there’s something you should know before I share more. Something Ivy told me. The other reason she wanted to come to Chile. There’s someone else here she’s worried about.”
“Who?” He couldn’t help but focus on Jesse with his pulse jockeying so fast.
“Cora has a kid. A five-year-old son.”
The kid Liam will save on Friday is . . . Cora’s kid? Beckett felt the blood draining from his face in shock.
“Beckett . . .” Jesse slowly began, “is there a chance he’s yours?”
“Beckett, I’ve been calling. You’ve been gone for two hours. What happened?” Sydney asked the second he walked into their hotel suite.
“My phone was ruined in the cenote,” he replied, still in a daze.
“Carter gave you a new one. You called McKenna from it yesterday.” Sydney stood before him and reached for his arm. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think straight. “I needed to take a walk.” He’d thought he’d only been outside the hotel for thirty or so minutes. Had it really been hours since he’d met with Jesse?
“You’re worrying me. Please.” She motioned for him to sit on the bed, but he couldn’t get himself to move, so he leaned against the door and lowered his hand so he could peer into this beautiful woman’s eyes.
She let go of him and tightened the knot of her white silk hotel robe. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few loose strands framing her face. She was . . . perfection.
Miles. Cora has a five-year-old son named Miles.
Closing his eyes, Beckett thought back to the last time he’d seen Cora six years ago. He’d dropped McKenna off at his parents’ ranch after Cora had called and begged him to meet her at her hotel to talk about their daughter.
He knew she must have had an angle, another con in mind, but he’d decided to hear her out for McKenna’s sake. But her pleas for another chance to start over as a family were insincere, and her words were hollow. How could he trust her? Bottom line, he couldn’t.
And why in the hell wouldn’t Ivy have reached out to him, regardless of his threat to arrest her two years ago, if she knew a five-year-old was in danger too?
Cora instructed Ivy to tell you about Miles only upon her death. So, when Cora failed to call on their agreed upon day, Ivy decided her best bet was to head to Mexico and cozy up to club Capone’s owner since Cora told her about Jorge’s desire to buy the place. Since Ivy had never had any dealings with the cartel and hadn’t seen Cora in six years, she figured she’d be safe. Before contacting you, Ivy wanted to go to Chile and confirm Cora and Miles were alive , Jesse had told him when Beckett had raised that point. Because yeah, Ivy was as stubborn as Cora, but he knew Ivy didn’t have a death wish and wouldn’t go into battle alone. But the damn woman could’ve given him some type of heads-up.
Miles is McKenna’s brother.
God, he was going to puke. McKenna had always wanted siblings. Hoped for a brother or sister. And Beckett had never delivered. Not only that, he’d opted to have a vasectomy a few years back.
“Beckett.” Sydney reached for his bicep this time and squeezed. “What’s wrong?” The sound of fear and concern in her voice compelled him to face her.
Beckett’s hand slid from his chest to his abdomen as he tried to make sense of it all.
“Please talk to me,” Sydney pleaded.
“Cora and Jorge aren’t an item,” he managed out in a hoarse voice. “She pulled her seduction con on an easier target. One of his security guys who lives on-site. But we were right, Hector Lopez recognized her when he traveled with Miguel to Chile three weeks ago.” Beckett’s mind replayed the rest of what Jesse had told him at the coffee shop, his eyes falling closed.
“What is it?”
“The cartel’s not only getting the drug formula in exchange for Capone on Friday. The transaction also includes Jorge handing over Cora. Once he learned she was a con artist, Jorge was worried Cora had infiltrated his organization, so he requested time to interrogate her first, which is why, um, he chose this Friday for the . . .” He swallowed. “Deadline.”
Deadline. He thought back to Sydney’s words on the jet the other day. In her line of work, a deadline meant someone would die if they weren’t successful.
“So, she’s still alive. We have time.” Sydney’s optimistic tone had him peeling his eyes open again. He probably looked drugged to her. He knew his eyes had to be red or his pupils dilated.
How could he keep this news from McKenna? A brother.
“Isn’t this good news?”
“The cartel wants to make an example of her once he turns her over, and . . . they want her son too. That’s part of the deal.”
Sydney released him at his words and stepped back. “She has a son?” Her chest lifted and fell with a deep breath. “The five-year-old Elaina said her dad needs to save? Elaina was adamant that she and Emily come here,” Sydney whispered, “because she knew Liam, the world’s best sniper, would follow. She must have been so tied to this vision because he’s McKenna’s brother. Family.”
Beckett slowly nodded.
“He’s five,” she softly said, her eyes glossy with tears. “Is there a chance she was already pregnant when she met Jorge’s bodyguard? Did she make him believe the baby was his when it may have been?—”
“I may have been an idiot to go to Cora when she called in the past for help,” Beckett began, realizing Sydney was wondering the same thing Jesse had, “but sleep with her six years ago?” He shook his head, remembering Cora’s bullshit performance that night and the warning he’d delivered afterward for her to stay away from him and his daughter. “Hell no.”