Chapter Nine
“And?” Caleb gestured for his cousin to follow him into the house. Tossing his suit coat over the back of the sofa, he rolled up his shirtsleeves.
Zach’s gaze dropped to Caleb’s gun, then lifted. If he had a problem with Caleb being armed on Navajo land, he kept it to himself.
“They traced the license plate you gave them for the black SUV. Belongs to a guy named Manuel Ortega. Lives in Phoenix. Here’s where it gets interesting. Ortega pops up in the ACJIS.”
“English, Cousin.”
“Arizona’s version of the National Criminal Information Center.” Zach braced against the wall, arms crossed. “Looks like he’s originally from Gallup. Had ties to the Aztec Kings—a local motorcycle gang on the FBI’s radar for guns and drug trafficking.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened. “What does he do in Phoenix?”
“He’s a warehouse manager for Azamex Food Distributors. They import Mexican and Central American snacks and distribute them to stores throughout the Southeast.”
Azamex. The name rang a bell.
Caleb searched his memories. His old man had worked there once, stocking their warehouse before he died. Sometimes he brought home boxes of individually packaged chips—a rare treat in a house where there hadn’t been many .
Frowning, Caleb dug deeper into the memory.
Was that why Ortega had seemed familiar? Had he worked with his father?
“There’s more,” Zach said. He leveled a cool look at Caleb. “The tribal hospital in Gallup reported a fentanyl overdose last night. They’re waiting for the toxicology results to confirm the analog ingested by the deceased, but pills found at the scene looked like oxy.”
Caleb’s teeth ground together to hold back a snarl. “Tribal hospital. The deceased was Navajo?”
Zach’s lips thinned, his eyes darkening to black. “Yeah. Which is why it’s now our problem. My buddy reached out to the Feds. They were very interested in the fact Ortega’s back in Gallup. They think he might be meeting up with old crew—and given his rumored cartel ties…”
A chill skated down Caleb’s spine. “Cartel connections?”
“Yep.” His cousin’s brow lifted, a hint of censure in his eyes. “Espina Negra. Sound familiar?”
“Son of a bitch.” Ice flooded Caleb’s veins, then caught fire.
He shoved his hand through his hair, trying to hold back the roaring fury, his body trembling with the effort to stay in control.
Espina Negra.
His father’s former cartel.
The cartel responsible for his mother’s death.
More innocent dead.
And Gia—where did she fit in?
She knew more than she was telling.
Pieces of a puzzle scattered before him, just out of reach.
But he would put them together. And when he did …
He hadn’t realized he was pacing until Zach stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “That look on your face is making me nervous.”
Caleb jerked his head toward Gia’s bedroom, lowering his voice. “Why go after her? There has to be a connection.”
Zach gave a restless shrug. “Maybe her ex hired Ortega to track her down. Paid local talent to send a message. Wouldn’t be the first time some businessman didn’t want to get his own hands dirty.”
“Maybe.” Caleb didn’t believe in coincidences.
“You good?” Zach asked, his gaze too perceptive.
Slipping into mission mode, Caleb blocked the rising storm inside him. Focused on the job.
Which just became finding Manuel Ortega.
“I’m fine.”
His cousin didn’t need to know the truth—that he wasn’t anywhere near fine.
This wasn’t just about protecting Gia anymore.
It was about avenging his mother.
Ortega had answers.
Caleb would get those answers.
At any cost.
Gia’s fingers kept drifting to her lips as she unzipped her suitcase.
Caleb had kissed her.
And she hadn’t been afraid.
She hadn’t kissed a man since Vincente .
Hadn’t wanted to.
Her white medical coat hung back in the closet. A few shirts, a couple of work outfits, a handful of underwear—all back in her closet or drawers.
The rest she’d left packed, ready to go at a moment’s notice. Because even though she’d said she’d stay—and wanted to stay—if Vincente’s men tracked her down, she’d have no choice but to leave.
Her fingertips brushed the tight weave of her Navajo bedcovering, the rough texture grounding her. Bought at a trading post, the woman who’d handwoven the blanket had told her each pattern told a story.
If someone wove a blanket of her life, what would it say?
Unlike the Diné, she had no community, no culture, no symbols of her beliefs.
The thought of endangering them if she stayed turned her stomach.
The mistakes she’d made were her problem. Hers alone.
Running scared the hell out of her. She had no new identity to fall back on. Little cash left in her reserves.
If she ran, she’d have to cut ties. She’d never know the results of Florence Begay’s CAT scan, and if she was getting the treatment she needed. Or if Billy Nakai would actually follow through with the diet and exercise recommendations he needed to get his blood pressure and diabetes under control.
No goodbyes to Jennie. Zach. President Blackwater.
And Caleb.
God , Caleb.
There was no denying the attraction. His dark eyes and quiet strength had drawn her from the first moment at Lucero’s Lounge.
Then he’d appeared in the parking lot, handling those men with a ruthless efficiency that should have terrified her.
Only it had made her feel safe. Protected .
If Caleb ever knew the whole truth, he’d never look at her the same.
He’d see her for what she was—a liar, a coward, a woman who should’ve known better than to fall for a devil with a silver tongue.
She’d ignored the signs.
Until the night she couldn’t anymore.
No amount of running would wash away the blood. She’d slept in the bed of a murderer. Trusted him.
Her gaze darted back to the closet. To the clothes she’d unpacked.
Fear seized her lungs in a viselike grip.
What was she thinking? She should never have agreed to stay.
She should never have whispered Vincente’s name.
If Caleb actually confronted him, Vincente and his family would come for him, too.
They solved problems by eliminating them.
She shoved her suitcase deeper into the closet, then changed into jeans and a burgundy knit top.
Just her luck to find a decent man when there was no future in it.
Low, masculine voices drifted down the hall. Too low to make out the words, but the tension in every sharp syllable was palpable.
Her heart skittered.
Caleb wasn’t alone—and whoever was with him had brought bad news.
Each step down the short hallway twisted the ball of nerves in her stomach tighter.
When she turned the corner, she found Caleb and Zach facing off near the front door.
Zach caught sight of her first. He straightened, dropping his arms to his sides.
She barely had time to register his sober face when Caleb turned .
Eyes, cold as a glacier yet alive with a suppressed fire, pinned her in place. His mouth was a thin line above a jaw rigid enough to shatter.
Unease crawled up her spine. “Has something happened?”
This wasn’t the man who’d kissed her with tender heat.
This was the soldier. The one who understood violence and death.
The one that reminded her too much of the world she’d escaped.
“We got information on one of the suspects who attacked you.” Zach peered at his black Cassio G-Shock.
Grimacing, he added, “Caleb can fill you in. I’m headed to Chinle on a missing persons case and won’t be back until late. I’ll assign an officer to keep an eye on Gia’s home tonight.”
“Do that.” Caleb’s tone was curt. “I’ve got some business to handle. I’ll be back by morning.”
Hello? She was standing right there. “I have my shift at the clinic.”
Caleb spared her a glance. “I’ll drive you.”
“That’s not necessary. I can drive myself.”
Because if Vincente’s men somehow discovered her real name and tracked her to her workplace, she might need a quick exit.
“Yes, it is.” Both men said in unison.
Blood will tell.
Gia blew out a breath, exasperated but oddly warmed. Protectors. Both of them. To their core. “I can tell you two are related.”
Truth was, it felt nice to have men who cared. Even if it was temporary.
“Contact me if the police locate Ortega and his buddy,” Caleb told Zach, his voice cool.
Zach returned the stare, then gave a curt nod and left.
The door had barely closed before Caleb stalked toward her. His movements were fluid. Like the big cats she’d seen at the Miami Zoo.
But his eyes still burned with icy rage .
And suddenly, she felt like prey.
Her pulse tripped.
“What did Zach tell you?” She cursed the tremble in her voice. Caleb had to hear it.
Too many secrets.
Too many lies.
“Did you know those men who tried to abduct you?” he demanded.
“No.” She stiffened her spine, injecting as much forcefulness as she could into the single word. “I already told you that.”
She hadn’t recognized them.
But she knew who sent them.
“You’ve never seen them before? Not even with your ex?”
This soldier interrogating her with his hard voice and cold, relentless gaze frightened her.
“No.”
“Then why were you so sure they didn’t know where you lived?”
Because they were looking for Abigail Winters.
Not Gianna Barone.
“They were strangers. Not from around here. And they were surprised to find me, remember?” A flimsy excuse. She knew it.
So did he. “Ever heard of Azamex? It’s a food distributor. Maybe your ex has business with them?”
“Maybe.” Gia wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. “He never discussed work around me.”
He’d introduced her to men and women he referred to as business associates. They’d rarely spoken to her. She’d been Vincente’s arm candy.
Dusk had settled. The soft glow of headlights cut across her windows .
Caleb strode to the glass, his hand moving over the gun at his back.
When he turned to face her, his features had shuttered.
No anger.
No suspicion.
Just a chilling remoteness.
“Zach’s officer is here, stationed outside.” His voice was flat. “I have to go.”
A sudden chill peppered her flesh. “Where?”
“Hunting.”