19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
“See, camping isn’t so bad,” Chance murmured as he sat in one of the Adirondack chairs next to Berlin.
Laptop on her legs, she took her wireless headset off and glanced at him. “Sitting by a campfire is fun. Making s’mores is fun. Sleeping in a dusty bag…not so much.” You know, unless she was curled up with him —but she kept that thought to herself. Because she would absolutely make an exception for camping if they got to be naked together.
He and Rowan had gotten back not long ago, and everyone was currently sitting around the firepit while Tiago made them all s’mores. Soon most of them would head out to get in place but not until closer to midnight.
“It’s fun in the winter. It can be amazing just sleeping out under the stars next to a campfire.” He said it with a kind of wistfulness that told her he was remembering doing just that.
“Honestly, this is the kind of stuff you should keep to yourself,” she murmured.
He snickered, then shook his head at Tiago when he offered him another s’more. “I’m good, but thanks. And,” he said, looking back at Berlin, “I bet I can change your mind. After…all this.” His expression dimmed slightly as he glanced at the fire.
“We’re going to find your brother.” She hated making promises, and wasn’t exactly making one, but…she wanted to help him, no matter what the ending of this was. She was tempted to reach out, comfort him, but resisted the urge. Now definitely wasn’t the time. Though she wanted to say more, she heard voices through her headset so she slid it back on her head. And realized this was what they’d been waiting for. “Hey, everyone listen up.” She waved her hand once then turned the Bluetooth off so they could all hear the incoming call to Armand Loutrel, owner of Armand’s Airboats which Rowan had rented from today. Hacking his line had been ridiculously easy.
“Tell me about the men who rented the airboat from you today.” The man who’d called Armand had a slight Texas twang—which lined up with any one of the Acton brothers, who all allegedly hailed from Texas.
“I rented a lot of boats today.” Now that was pure Louisiana Cajun accent.
Berlin looked over at Rowan, who was crouched in front of the firepit. “Is this the same guy from the rental place? His voice?”
“Sounds like it. Can barely understand him,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Berlin had been monitoring Armand’s phone on the off chance he worked with any of the traffickers. It was an educated guess and made sense that these runners would work with locals. It was the same the world over. Because eyes on the ground were a lot more useful than cameras that could break or be hacked.
“I’m talking specifically about two men, both large, white-looking. They were out fishing and drinking beer, got real close to one of our routes. That would’ve been around two.”
“I rented seven boats today and none to two men. But one fella mentioned pickin’ up a friend. Coulda been them.”
“Did you tell him about any fishing spots?”
“Course I did. He wasn’t too bright though.”
Tiago and Bradford snickered, but Rowan simply rolled his eyes.
“Anything about him seem off?”
“Nah. But I won’t be surprised if he gets himself killed out there. He rented a boat for three days, says he plans to fish the whole time and drink his weight in beer.”
“Why’d you rent to him, then?”
Now the man guffawed. “If I didn’t rent to dumbasses, I’d have no customers. He paid with a card. You want the information, or you want to keep hassling me with questions?”
The other man’s voice was tight as he responded. “Yes, send me his credit card and ID. And if you think of anything else, let me know. Someone will be by in a week to pay you.”
“Alrighty.”
The other man disconnected in response. The owner muttered to himself for a moment before the call ended.
“At least we know the fake ID will hold up,” Berlin said. They had a multitude of cover IDs complete with background information. And none of the IDs ever had their real faces on them. They’d all been slightly edited so that if anyone ran the ID picture, what they’d find was a carefully curated social media history.
Rowan’s ID from today was that of an Oliver Johnson from Baton Rouge who liked posting fishing memes, political rants and had a spotty job history. It would hold up under scrutiny and shouldn’t invite any more questions.
“They work fast,” she continued as a search popped up for the fake ID.
Everyone was quiet for a moment, but eventually they started murmuring among themselves as she watched the screen.
“I feel like I already know the answer, but can you do anything with the phone number that called Armand Loutrel?” Chance asked.
She shook her head. “I already ran it. It’s a burner. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll see if I can dig deeper, but these guys are careful. It’s going to be a dead end.”
Sighing, he stood. “Yeah, I figured.”
She wished she could comfort him or…something. But things were still weird between them and right now the priority was finding Enzo. Besides, she couldn’t have a conversation with him about their kiss in front of everyone. As Chance stalked off into the darkness toward the water instead of back to the cabin, she forced herself to focus on her laptop.
She traced the searches for Oliver Johnson, followed them all back to what turned out to be a ranch house in Houston. She made a note of the location for now, because there wasn’t much they could do with it at the moment. Once it was clear she wasn’t getting any more useful information, she slid her laptop onto the seat then headed in the direction Chance had gone—ignoring the looks she got from Adalyn and Rowan.
“Hey, want company?” she sat down next to Chance on a patch of sandy shore.
“Sure.” He had his knees pulled up, his elbows propped up on them as he stared out into the darkness.
The river and lake beyond looked almost black to her, even under the moonlight and stars. “They looked into Rowan’s fake ID. That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just thinking about my brother, that’s all. I just can’t see him getting tangled up with drug runners.”
“People are complicated.”
He snorted softly. “That’s a diplomatic response.”
She stretched her legs out and sighed. “Sorry, I’m not sure what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. You’re already doing a hell of a lot,” he murmured. “Without you…honestly, I don’t know where I’d be. I also don’t know that I even deserve your help.”
“Your brother is missing. This isn’t about deserving help. We all need it sometimes.”
“Yeah well…my relationship with Enzo isn’t the best. The last time we talked we said a lot of shitty things to each other. He blamed me for a lot.”
When it was clear that he was done, Berlin nudged him slightly. “Want to air it out? Talk about it?”
“No…but he wasn’t wrong about some of it. I left home as soon as I was able. My sister…died way too young. My grandma tried her best. We all did. I tried to earn enough money to pay for her treatment but…” He ran a hand over his face, sighed. “After she died, I just had to get out of there,” he muttered. “I loved my brother, and maybe I should have stayed. But I felt like I was suffocating in that shithole of a town. And now I realize that saying this to you of all people just shows how selfish I was.” He turned away from her to stare back out at the water.
The wind kicked up, blowing her hair back and sending a shiver down her spine. “Our situations were different, and there’s no right answer for stuff like that. You were eighteen when you left, a kid yourself. You’d lost your sister and had to have been grieving. And at the end of the day, you can’t take responsibility for your brother’s actions.”
“Maybe, maybe not. My grandmother was there for him and she tried hard, but…” He shook his head.
Scooting closer, she laid her head on his shoulder. She wished she could comfort him more, but wasn’t sure he’d want her touch.
He tensed for a moment, but seconds later she could feel that tension leaving his body as he leaned into her. “I don’t like the thought of leaving you behind while we head out tonight.”
“I know, but I’ll be fine.”
“You’re just saying that so you don’t have to sleep on a boat.” His tone was dry.
She laughed lightly. “That boat is a better option than the cabin.”
“So says you. One day I’m going to get you out camping and sleeping under the stars.”
She sat there a moment, debating her next words and then just decided to throw them out there. “You still want to be friends after all this?” she asked, because he’d seemed to have one foot out the door since she’d rolled into his life like a bulldozer. Because apparently that was what she did. Boundaries, schmoundaries.
“Of course I still want to be friends,” he growled far too sexily. As he did, he shifted slightly, forcing her to look up at him. “Why would you even ask that?”
“I don’t know… I sort of busted into your real life and made you take my help. I know I can be a lot.”
“You’re not a lot, you’re absolutely perfect, Berlin.” Again with that sexy growl that curled through her, making her want far too much.
Her eyebrows shot up at that but he didn’t take the words back. And she loved when he said her name. “Seriously?”
“Jesus, Berlin, yeah. You’re perfect and it’s intimidating being your friend.”
She slow blinked at that. No one had ever called her perfect before, much less twice in a row. She’d been called “a lot” or “extra” by her sisters more times than she could count. Maybe it was a sister thing but sometimes she wondered.
“And for the record, if I hadn’t wanted your help, I could have just snuck out that first night and left. You’re not holding me hostage. I’m here willingly, and grateful for your help.”
“Well that’s another thing, I don’t want you to be grateful and—”
He gave a low curse and dipped his head, crushing his mouth over hers in a swift, searing claiming. Because this was more than a kiss. He teased his tongue against hers as he slid his hand against her jaw, behind her head, cupped her tight.
God, she loved how he held on to her, as if he was afraid she’d bolt. Which to be fair, she was considering. Because this felt way too complicated. She was finding it hard to care though as heat slid low in her belly, expanding out to all of her as he kissed her slow, and long and…oh, he tugged her onto his lap so that she was straddling him.
And she loved the feel of being on top of him as they explored each other’s mouths. She traced the raised scar along his left jawline and—
“Oh, shit.” The sound of Bradford’s voice broke them apart and by the time she managed to pull back and glance behind Chance, Bradford was already booking it in the other direction.
She winced slightly, but whatever. She didn’t think Bradford would tell everyone what he’d just seen. And she was an adult; she could do whatever the hell she wanted.
“It’s probably getting close to time to get out of here.” Chance stood then, held out a hand for her. Instead of letting her go when she was on her feet, he pulled her flush against his body, slid his arms around her and held tight. “And for the record, I don’t regret this and don’t think it’s a mistake.”