Chapter 9 West
NINE
WEST
“Stone!” I roared.
I carried the stack of papers beneath my arm as I rushed to Stone and Hayley’s room.
“Stone! Stone! We have to move, and quickly. The cartel is trying—”
“What the fuck?” Hayley shrieked.
The second I threw the man’s bedroom door open, all I saw was his pasty white ass perched in the air. A pair of feet dangled beyond his shoulders, and I quickly whipped around as the two of them scrambled to get beneath the covers.
“What the actual fuck, West?” Stone growled.
I sighed. “Sorry, but this is very, very important.”
“Go, sweetheart,” Hayley whispered.
I heard the wet smacking of kisses before clothes were snatched up.
A hand on my back shoved me out into the hallway and I caught myself against the wall before I whipped around.
I’d never seen Stone so upset before. As he pinned me with a glare, I simply took the stack of papers beneath my arm and handed it to him.
“Diego found Carlos Banderas’ email in some archived shit he had, so I hacked his account.”
Stone’s anger immediately washed away. “You got into that man’s email? Let me see those.”
He snatched them from me and flipped through the pages before his eyes widened. I didn’t even have to say anything else. I knew he was putting two-and-two together, just like I had. He slowly looked back up at me and I nodded my head, as if to confirm what was on the page.
Like it wasn’t there in fucking black and white.
“Do we know who’s on the ‘sending’ end of these emails? Who the fuck is he conversing with?” Stone asked.
“In some other emails, he mentions a ‘lieutenant.’ I have a feeling that’s who we’re dealing with on the sending end.”
Stone nodded mindlessly. “We got a name for this lieutenant?”
I shook my head. “No, but we do have an email for him. That’s the next one I’m hacking, but I knew this information couldn’t wait.”
His eyes studied the maps. “Shit. They’re closer than we figured. Do they know where we are?”
“Not as of right now. At least, it doesn’t seem that way. But they’re looking and digging, and they’re combing areas in what looks like two-mile-by-two-mile radiuses. They’re going to eventually find us.”
“Fuck!” Stone exclaimed.
“You know that means we all have to find somewhere else to go. We have to move, and quickly.”
He slammed the papers back against my chest. “Call church. Now.”
With a piercing whistle and my fist banging on every single bedroom door, they guys were pulled out of their little honeymoon suites and dragged into the living room.
It must’ve been sex hour and I hadn’t gotten the memo because Stone hadn’t been the only man attempting to get it on.
I didn’t care, though. We had to figure out what the fuck we were going to do about all of this.
And as Stone filled the guys in on what we knew, I taped the printed maps up on the wall so everyone could see them.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Texas said flatly.
Stone shook his head. “I honestly wish I were. The issue is that if we sit here any longer, they will find us. Their patrols will find this warehouse and it’ll be game fucking over. We have to move.”
Asher raked his hands through his hair. “Where the hell are we going to even go?”
Puck shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We just can’t stay here, and that’s the important thing.”
I stepped back up to the forefront. “We need a place that has never been associated with us. We need a place that is so unassuming and so far out there that the cartel wouldn’t even consider coming for us there, much less trying to trace us there. That jog anyone’s mind on any sort of place?”
And the silence that came after my question made the situation feel hopeless.
“Well,” I said as I cleared my throat, “I, for one, would like to stay somewhere populated. If we’re around lots of witnesses, there’s less of a chance of them retaliating.”
Texas shrugged. “Or there’s more collateral damage when they do.”
Frost agreed with me, though. “Actually, he’s right.
The cartel comes heavy for us when we’re isolated, but they’re all talk when we’re in crowded spaces.
And you know the more shit they kick up, the further up someone else’s radar they get pushed.
It’s not like they’re completely off the grid or some shit.
The FBI and all sorts of other lettered organizations know they exist.”
Stone’s blank stare came to life. “Comic-Con.”
Frost paused. “The hell do you know about Comic-Con?”
Stone shot him a look. “Hayley was talking about it earlier. San Diego’s Comic-Con is happening next week. Maybe we could get a hotel near the convention center before all of the rooms sell out.”
Frost snickered. “You think they’re not already sold out? It’s less than a week before the convention.”
And that was when it hit me. “Actually, I think I can fix that.”
Texas’ eyes arrested me. “Explain.”
I drew in a curt breath. “I have some old friends out in L.A. that might be able to fix our hotel situation. They’ve got a bit of…sway when it comes to these kinds of things. Let me place a few phone calls and see what I can dig up.”
Stone nodded. “Get on it.”
I headed straight out the front door and pulled out my cell phone, but as I did, I looked toward my left and noticed something…off.
Where’s our van?
I slid my cell phone back into my pocket and walked over to the shaded patch of dead grass where the van should have been, but instead I found it empty. Barren. Panic gripped my heart as my eyes cased the ground, noticing the freshly bent grass that led straight to the gravel pathway.
And for some reason, I just knew what had happened.
Chloe’s gone.
I forgot all about the phone call and rushed over to my bike.
I dug out the keys to the ignition from the back compartment and didn’t even bother putting on my helmet.
If Stone figured out that Chloe had simply left with our fucking van, he’d be pissed.
And not only would he be pissed, but I was pretty sure he’d kick her to the fucking curb for breaking the rules and ditching me in the process.
So, I walked my bike beyond the crest of the gravel pathway before I struck up the engine and tore out of there like a forest fire raging through the dry valley.
It didn’t take me long to catch up with her, either.
I mean, a big-ass white van careening down the highway didn’t exactly scream “incognito.” She kept slamming on the brakes so fucking hard that she left tire tracks everywhere she went.
Once I got the van in sight, I wove in and out of traffic, trying to catch up before she took an exit that had nothing on it except a rundown gas station and a diner.
And when she pulled into the parking lot of the diner, I wondered what in the absolute hell was so important that she’d risk her safety—as well as ours—just to eat a greasy burger.
I took a left while she took a right and I eased my way through a fast-food line.
I kept my eyes squarely on the van as she stumbled out and made a mad dash for the diner’s door.
The second she was inside, I parked my bike in the fast food parking lot.
I rushed down the small, grassy knoll and kept myself concealed with the concrete pillars that decorated the outside of the rundown restaurant.
Then, after a few minutes of trying to settle my gut, I made my way inside.
“Welcome to Deena’s Diner! What can I—”
I pressed my finger to my lips, silencing the cheery woman at the front counter.
My eyes scanned the place, trying to get a location on Chloe as I brushed past the woman.
I felt her staring me down with an inquisitive look, and as I crept down the small hallway, I managed to find what I was looking for without even turning the corner.
Because right there, in the reflection of the window in front of me, was Chloe.
Sitting with a suited man in a booth who I knew—simply from the way he sat—was a fucking federal agent.