Chapter 8 Wes
WES
Shortly after the two men went inside, Diego sent us enhanced images from the cameras of them.
I’d already been pretty sure it was Ramirez, but now I was one hundred percent.
I didn’t recognize the younger man. Diego thought it could be the guy from the gas station, but he didn’t have a positive identity yet.
I thought about contacting Deshaun but decided to sit on the information for now.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him per se, but he had a lot of lives in his hands, and protecting his assets would be his first priority so I wasn’t sure how he’d act in this situation.
Sleep wasn’t easy to come by, and we only managed a few restless hours when Diego rang in on a FaceTime call with an update.
I smiled indulgently at my boy as I waited for the coffee maker to work its magic.
Luca trailed in before Diego could say anything else.
He was wearing nothing but plaid pajama pants, his hair sticking up in all different directions.
I leaned over and kissed his cheek before tilting the screen so he could see the call.
“Morning, angel.” I placed the phone on the counter so we could both see Diego.
His dark hair was loose and a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a black tank top and compression pants, his typical workout clothes.
He must’ve called us right after the gym.
Brooks was sitting cross-legged on top of the desk directly behind Diego, eating something out of a massive bowl.
He was also wearing workout clothes, and it looked like he’d never combed his hair in his life. He waved at us.
Diego blushed. “Morning.” He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed.
I eyed my boy through the screen as I poured my coffee, Luca crowding in behind me.
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked, using my Daddy voice.
He didn’t seem exhausted or wired from too much caffeine, but I could never be too sure.
Diego tended to forget his basic needs when he was working, and it got even worse when I wasn’t around.
“Don’t worry, Daddy Wes,” Brooks chimed in. “I dragged him out of here around midnight, and we just got back in. He didn’t sleep any worse than he usually does.”
Diego twisted his head, probably giving his brother a dirty look. “I don’t need a caretaker,” he grumbled, sounding adorably grumpy. “I would’ve gone to bed all on my own.”
“Sure you would’ve,” Brooks agreed way too easily. “Also, nothing wrong with needing a caretaker. I got my own.” He blew Luca a kiss through the screen, who rolled his eyes but returned it.
Diego turned back to me, and I raised an eyebrow, still wanting an answer from him. “I did sleep. And I ate breakfast. Real food,” he cut in before I could ask, “not just an energy drink. This is light work, I swear. My programs do most of it for me.”
“Thank you, angel. And thank you for the information. We still don’t know why Ramirez is looking for me or stole my file?”
“Nothing substantial besides our running theories and logic saying it has something to do with his mystery guest, but until I can get a valid ID, I don’t have much. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything. I already told you, we’d be fucking lost without you.”
Several times a week, I worried that Diego had too much of a workload.
I had suggested hiring Ari on a more permanent basis, but Diego had not handled it well.
Ari had done some of the tech work for the guys before Diego had come onto the team.
We helped him and his brothers last year when they stumbled upon a trafficking ring unintentionally.
Ari’s brother, Dominic, now had a permanent role on Leo’s security team, so I’d thought adding Ari to the tech team would make things easier for Diego.
Unfortunately, my suggestion had backfired and he’d safeworded and completely shut me down, and I hadn’t brought it up since, even though I wanted to.
“At this point, I think the best option would be the old-school approach. Show up at his door and ask,” Luca inputted as he grabbed his now full mug from the counter. I hummed in agreement. I knew Diego wasn’t the biggest fan of that, but sometimes the old ways worked.
Diego frowned but let it go. “Okay. I’ll keep trying to find out who the other guy is or who called the payphone.”
“Thanks, D,” Luca chimed in.
We chatted for a few more minutes. Skye and Maverick popped in, and it was good to see everyone, even if I was with them just yesterday.
We came up with a loose game plan for confronting Ramirez before disconnecting with them.
Once we finished our coffee and a quick breakfast, we got changed and ready to go over.
We weren’t worried about stealth, really, so I kept it casual, going for beach vacation vibes and less of the secret agent I tended to always look like, even unintentionally.
I kept my weapons light and unobtrusive.
I didn’t need them to be a threat anyway.
Luca had the same idea, walking out of the bathroom in cotton shorts and a pale purple short-sleeved button-down, which was very reminiscent of the house color.
I snapped a quick picture to send to Brooks and Skye when Luca wasn’t looking but otherwise kept that to myself.
It was a gorgeous day out, so we decided to walk, enjoying the weather and the atmosphere of the neighborhood.
It was still early enough that it was pretty quiet.
An older gentleman was watering his garden.
A mom with two toddlers was on her front porch, tiredly drinking from a large mug while the kids played in a blow-up pool.
We passed a jogger and one woman cycling, but other than that, the sidewalk was empty.
“Interesting area to hunker down in,” Luca commented when we rounded the corner to the street Ramirez was staying on.
“Mm-hmm,” I agreed. It was a tourist destination with a lot of seasonal rentals, so I could see the appeal there.
No one would question someone new coming in for a few weeks or less and then leaving.
However, it was still sleepy enough that it would be hard to stay entirely unnoticed, especially this late in the season.
It was why we didn’t even try. We would only bring more attention to ourselves if we stuck to the shadows.
The shades were all drawn at the house when we approached, and I could see no visible signs of anyone inside. We’d been monitoring the place all night, though, so we knew they were still there. They might be asleep, but neither Luc nor I had the patience to wait.
We walked up the stairs to the wraparound porch hand in hand.
“Ready?” Luc asked.
I nodded. I had no idea what to expect, but we would never know why Ramirez was looking for me if we didn’t make contact.
I rang the doorbell.
No one answered after the first two tries, and I began to wonder if we’d have to resort to stealth after all.
I banged on the door with my fist. “Ramirez, if you’re in there, I know you’re looking for me. Let us in.”
The house was mostly silent, but I finally heard shuffling and a muffled voice.
There was the sound of two deadbolts, then the knob turning.
The chain lock was still connected, so the door only opened a couple inches, but it was enough for me to get a glimpse into the dark front room.
A face appeared in the gap, but it wasn’t Ramirez.
“Wesley Hayes?” the unfamiliar man asked, his voice hesitant, a little nervous.
It was the young man from last night, and now that I was getting a clear look at him, I could confirm he was probably in his late teens or early twenties.
Russet-colored waves of hair fell into dark hazel eyes that were large and wide open, taking everything in.
His round face was covered with freckles that continued down his neck.
He was much shorter than we were, and he had to look up through the small crack to get a look at my face.
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it now. “Is Ramirez here?”
The kid chewed on his lip. The door closed before I could stop it, but a second later it was open again, this time without the chain. He looked behind him and then back to us.
“Um . . . Mr. Charles is sleeping. I’m not supposed to let anyone in, but you’re Wesley Hayes.
” He turned those oversized eyes to Luca.
“And you’re Luca Castellano. Once Mr. Charles finally let me look at the data, I made the connection between the two of you, but he was afraid.
” He was wearing pajama pants with Care Bears on them and an oversized, long-sleeved USC T-shirt.
I could just make out freckled-covered fingers painted in black nail polish peeking out from under the sleeves.
I looked at Luca, who just shrugged. Maybe yesterday’s assessment of the kid had been more accurate and he was younger. There was something . . . na?ve about him, but I couldn’t place it.
“Can we come in?” Luca asked gently. “If Mr. Charles doesn’t want you answering the door, he probably doesn’t want us doing this out in the open on the porch either.”
The kid’s mouth dropped open in a comical “O” shape. “He definitely wouldn’t.”
He stepped out of the way, allowing us into the main living area of the bungalow that was set up very similarly to ours.
He turned to us, leaving the door wide open, and I cringed. Luca shot me another meaningful glance before reaching back and closing it.
“You know I’m Wes and that this is Luca, but what’s your name?”
“Everett, what’s going on? Who’re you talking to?” someone interrupted before the kid could answer my question.
Out walked Charles Ramirez in blue pajama pants and a light robe. He froze in place when he saw us, surprised, but more relieved than anything.
“Agent Hayes,” he greeted cautiously, coming to stand behind the kid, Everett apparently.
“Not anymore. Wes is fine.”
Charles nodded. “Wes, then. I was hoping you would find me here. I should have tried to contact you when I found your apartment, but your old landlord was asking too many questions, and I was worried he was going to call the authorities.”
“Which, I’m assuming, is not the outcome you’re looking for?”
Ramirez flinched slightly before smoothing out his face. His gaze darted to Everett, just briefly, but it was enough. “Yes, well, that’s quite a story and I need coffee. Join us? Everett, can you get the coffee maker working? You know I can’t figure out that damn thing.”
“Uh, okay, Mr. Charles.” Ramirez turned toward the kitchen with Everett on his heels. Unsure what else to do, we followed.
Ramirez stopped us in the hallway and waited, allowing Everett to get out of earshot before speaking. He glanced behind him, assuring that Everett was busying himself with the coffee and not paying attention to us.
“I almost feel guilty for getting you involved. But I didn’t know where else to turn.
You have a reputation, Agent— Wes,” he whispered, his voice gruff.
I hadn’t seen Ramirez in years, but he looked like he had aged decades since the last time.
His eyes darted to Luca. “As do you. And I think you’re the boy’s only chance.
” Ramirez leaned forward and dropped his voice even lower.
“Everett is . . . different. Spend a few minutes in the room with him and you’ll see.
Unfortunately, that makes him a target. For the last seven years, Everett has been held by the Crimson Rose and forced to use that brain of his to make them millions and grow their criminal empire. ”
The Crimson Rose. A secret organization largely believed to be fake, but looking at Ramirez and his conviction in their existence, I knew that wasn’t true. And now we were about to be directly in their sights. Fucking hell.