Chapter 9
9
HOPE
I fought back a yawn and hosed out another dog cage with Olivia Rodrigo blaring through my earbuds. It’d taken a long while to get to sleep last night with the events at the restaurant triggering unwanted thoughts of blood, violence, and Vaughn’s intense brown eyes.
Then, as though my brain were intent on torturing me even as I slept, I’d dreamed of my dark savior. Not just any dream. A spicy dream that had made my body come alive. And dammit, but it’d felt so real .
I shouldn’t complain. A sexy dream was better than the nightmares I usually endured, but the lingering memory of the intimate moment replayed in my mind. Vaughn and I in my happy place—the ocean—with my legs wrapped around his waist as he effortlessly supported me. Even now, my cheeks heated as I recalled how I’d ground my hips into his and his greedy hands had pulled me against him. It’d been sensational material to accompany my vibrator session this morning. I hadn’t needed to move it from its lowest setting before I’d climaxed twice in five minutes.
A flash of black caught my attention. Titan. He barked on the lawn, his big head swinging between me and the front yard.
We weren’t expecting visitors, but it might be someone from the village needing medical attention.
I pulled my earbuds out, stuffed them into my pocket, and turned off the hose. Titan waited for me, sticking close as I headed around the side of the house.
The back of a truck I’d recognize anywhere came into view.
Grim was here.
Crap on a cracker.
Vaughn stepped out of the car, making his exit from the huge vehicle look easy on his long jeans-clad legs. His eyes found mine, and I was floored by the same overwhelming reaction I’d had the first time I’d seen him. What the hell was up with that?
Titan went straight to Vaughn, where he received several firm pats on the rump, exactly the way my mastiff liked.
I’m not jealous of my dog.
I mentally scolded my subconscious for serving up that goddamn dream this morning, as well as my foolish lady parts for going all fluttery at the sight of a man I had no business getting hot and bothered over.
New plan: address whatever Vaughn had come here for and send him on his way as quickly as possible.
Titan wasn’t the prettiest of dogs, but Vaughn didn’t seem to mind that my baby had one eyeball and half an ear missing. The many scars through his short black hair made Titan look like a brawler. He wasn’t. My sweet boy had been used as bait to train pit dogs, and despite the mistreatment he’d faced, he was a lover, not a fighter. Daphne had rescued him only days before I’d arrived, and she’d nursed us both back to health. I’d taken longer to recover than Titan, and he’d been by my side every step of the way. What a messed-up pair we were.
While Vaughn continued loving on Titan, my dog wagged his tail and looked at me with his content face as if rubbing it in.
Traitor .
He never reacted this way to men. When Enrique came by, Titan would raise his hackles, lower his tail, and give him a wide berth. But he was comfortable around Vaughn. Did my dog have the same lack of self-preservation as me? We were both idiots.
I wiped my wet hands on my denim shorts and met Vaughn by the truck. “Hey.”
He wore the same black clothes as yesterday, and his mussed hair made me think he’d been dragging his hands through it all night.
Or someone else’s hands have been clutching those inky locks.
There were a couple of sex workers in town who took customers at late hours. Maybe he’d been with one of them all night. Why did that image sit like sour milk curdling in my gut?
Vaughn didn’t greet me in return. He just folded those big arms across his chest and leveled me with his dark stare. “We need to talk.”
Okay . Someone wasn’t a morning person.
The front door opened, and Daphne arrived on the porch with her favorite shotgun casually slung over her shoulder. She reminded me of a Wild West sheriff eyeing the suspicious newcomer in town. Her hard stare never left Vaughn as she limped down the steps and leaned against a timber post.
Jesus Christ.
An overprotective Dee wouldn’t make a conversation with Grim go any smoother.
“Talk about what?” I asked.
“About why I came to Playa de la Palmera.”
I frowned. “I thought you said you were just passing through?”
“I lied. I’m investigating drug-related activity in coastal villages.”
Drug-related activity . I had to assume he referred to the only cartel that moved product in this part of the country. My father’s.
My fingers and toes tingled, and my muscles tensed. I willed my body to back down from its fight-or-flight response, because Vaughn was wily enough to notice. I didn’t want to give him any reason to believe his statement made me uptight.
Besides, he couldn’t know who I was. If he did, he would’ve said something last night. No. He would’ve tossed me into the back of his truck and taken me when he’d had the chance. We were talking, weren’t we? That should be evidence enough that he wasn’t here to kidnap me.
Calm down. Take a breath.
I glanced toward Daphne. She wasn’t doing as good a job as me at hiding her alarm at Vaughn’s admission.
Grim’s jaw ticced, and his eyes remained locked on mine like he was waiting for something. My reaction, I figured. Did he think I was involved with drugs? Ridiculous.
“I already told you,” I said. “There isn’t any drug activity in Playa de la Palmera.”
He lowered his chin. “Are you sure about that?”
Behind me, Daphne’s feet shuffled as she came closer, but I kept my eyes on Vaughn. He didn’t seem convinced by my answer.
I folded my arms. “What are you? A cop? DEA?” Although that was hard to believe given the reckless way he’d intervened at the restaurant last night. And he sure as hell didn’t look like any cop I’d ever seen.
“No. I’m a private contractor.”
Vague .
“For whom?”
He didn’t immediately answer, which made me think he was choosing his words carefully.
Yeah. It was his turn to squirm.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, “I work with a team of mercenaries who hunt human traffickers. The traffickers also move drugs, so right now, we’re following a fentanyl trail with the hope that it leads us to stolen women who’re being sold as slaves.”
I couldn’t have been more surprised by his answer if he’d told me he was hunting aliens. Sex slavery sat at the top of a long list of reasons why I despised my father and his organization.
A man like Vaughn reaped no monetary gain from preventing human trafficking. In fact, it could be considered one of the riskiest jobs in the world because the people who sold slaves were the most ruthless criminals around. The only reward for stopping them was the satisfaction of saving people’s lives. Why would someone like Vaughn do that?
I angled my head, considering him more closely. The man was a rogue, no doubt, and his willingness to dole out violence didn’t align with my idea of someone who worked for a government agency, so I figured he was telling the truth about being a mercenary. And sure, his personality was grating, but he had come to my aid when I’d been in a dangerous situation.
My original assessment from last night still held up. Vaughn might be capable of doing bad things, but he wasn’t a bad person.
I glanced at Daphne again. Her expression had changed to one of cautious curiosity. I had to admit, Vaughn had me intrigued, too.
I had questions. So many questions. “This team of yours, are you the ones who’ve been working your way through Mexico taking down cartels?”
In the last couple of years, an unknown group had been targeting organized crime, wiping out cartels one by one with stealthy, deadly efficiency. Of course, it didn’t take long for new groups to spring up and take their place. Ballsy move given how brutally their predecessors had been dethroned.
Speculation was mounting over who was responsible. Some said it was a new elite unit of Mexican Special Forces. Others suspected it was a Colombian cartel unhappy with the Mexican narcos eating into their cocaine business with cheap, highly potent fentanyl. Personally, I’d always wondered if my father’s cartel was behind the attacks since they were the only organization left unscathed.
Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. “Do you always pay so much attention to cartel activities?”
“I do when it’s been all over the news. And you didn’t answer my question.”
He rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Yeah. It’s us.”
A seed of excitement sprouted inside me. If Vaughn was telling the truth, it could mean my father’s days were numbered. It was what I’d always hoped for but never thought would happen.
“Does that mean you’re here to go after the Pacific Coast Cartel?” I asked.
If Vaughn’s mercenary group toppled the PCC, I could finally be free. No more hiding. No more worrying that my father or Jorge would roll into Playa de la Palmera and take me away.
“Would that bother you?” he asked with a heavy dose of skepticism.
What the hell?
Why was Grim acting so suspicious? He’d been prickly last night, but now he was behaving like he’d caught me spitting in his coffee.
“No.” I frowned. “Why would that bother me?”
Daphne came to stand beside me. She’d shifted the shotgun from casually slung over her shoulder to a two-handed grip with her finger on the trigger.
Why was everyone acting so hostile? What was going on?
A cold trickle crept up my spine. Vaughn still hadn’t responded, and something told me I’d finally asked the right question.
“Answer me,” I demanded.
He sneered at me as if I were a piece of shit stuck to his shoe. “Because I found out who you are, Elena .”
That was the moment my blood turned to ice and all hell broke loose.