CHAPTER 10
Mateo
The lieutenant’s safehouse consisted of a recently built log cabin on Lake Cherokee, complete with a private dock and boathouse. The bright orange hue of cedar logs with a gray stone footing might seem rustic, but this home was no less opulent than El Jaguar’s mansion. It had the security to match it. The one thing the Lazcanos didn’t do was spare any expense. Bulletproof glass covered all the windows, cameras watched every entry and exit point, and sensors marked the same, alerting occupants whenever someone arrived via vehicle.
This is why Mat wasn’t surprised when the modern garage door, with its slate-colored panels, lifted as soon as they sensed his presence. He parked in the only open spot in the five-bay garage. Its expanse took up the entire lower floor of the house. As soon as he killed the engine, someone opened his door.
Julio’s ugly mug sneered down at him. “About time you showed up , tú pinche gringo .”
The insult didn’t faze Mat. He’d have been more surprised if Julio hadn’t cursed at him. But he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the man either. “Get the fuck outta my way, Julio.”
The asshole smirked and stepped aside. When Mat climbed out of the car, he said, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”
The glee in Julio’s voice churned Mat’s gut. He didn’t have to answer to this jackass, but he wanted to know what he was walking into.
Instead of antagonizing Julio further, he played along. “Yeah? ’bout what?”
For once, Julio kept quiet. “Follow me, and you’ll find out.”
While Mat trailed the shorter man up a flight of stairs, then through a living space in the main house, his thoughts raced with potential scenarios. He’d been prepared to die when he took this assignment, but now that he’d found Imogen again, he’d much rather live.
Julio opened a sliding glass door leading down a paved walkway to the two-story boathouse perched on the water’s edge. The same design prevailed with its cedar logs and slate trim, connecting the two buildings seamlessly. Birds chirped overhead, welcoming the morning sun. Unaware anything sinister lurked beneath its rays.
If Mat’s cover had been blown, he was walking into a trap. Despite the smell of flowers blooming on the bushes they passed or the sight of the blue water stretched out in front of him, he couldn’t shake the ominous feeling twisting his insides.
Just like at the main house, cameras watched every move here. The dark gray door opened before Julio had to knock. One of the lieutenant’s men stepped aside without a word as they entered. The main floor of the boathouse had an open design plan with a wall of windows looking out onto the lake. They had to be tinted; otherwise, the reflections of the sunbeams off the water would’ve been blinding. El Jaguar stood gazing out at the view.
He turned when they approached. “Where have you been?”
Julio retreated, leaving Mat in the proverbial hot seat. His palms started to sweat, but he kept the fear from his voice. “Searchin’ for you, patrón .”
The lieutenant had multiple safehouses. It wasn’t unreasonable to think Mat had spent the last twelve hours looking for the right one.
“That might be the first time you’ve lied to me, Mateo.” Instead of appearing angry about it, El Jaguar smiled. “Tell me, what happened to the daring dancer you had on your arm at the party? I wouldn’t have minded spending more time with that little muneca . . .”
Mat grinned in response. His cover remained intact if the lieutenant thought he was late to arrive because he’d been shacked up with that ‘doll’. “She mighta had somethin’ to do with my delay.” Hoping the disgust he slung came across as legitimate to protect Imogen, Mat shrugged. “But I sent that puta packin’. A couple of fucks, and she was already hearin’ weddin’ bells.”
El Jaguar’s expression changed. The benevolence leaked from his eyes, turning them into hard, dark pools. “Smart man.” He moved away from the window, and Mat followed through the living area down a set of cedar steps to the lower level.
No natural light shone in here. They were below ground; the windowless space had been carved into the hillside above the lake. Plastic covered the bare cement floor, telling Mat this room’s purpose—interrogation . . . by way of torture.
Driving that point home, a man sat bound to a chair in its center. His head hung as if he were unconscious, but Mat couldn’t tell for sure with the sack covering it. This had to be the man from the party. The one El Jaguar had planned to burn alive.
The lieutenant stopped at the plastic’s edge and gestured at the captive. “Can you tell me who this is?”
Swallowing down the bile that rose up his throat, Mat answered, “ El Traidor .”
“Sí, but what is his name?” The lieutenant’s voice might be even, but Mat was well aware of the menacing undertone. He didn’t have the answer, and failure meant death.
Adrenaline raced through his veins, threatening to make him twitchy. He kept the strain from his voice when he said, “I don’t know, patrón .”
“You failed me, Mateo. But I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself.” His smile was as sharp as a knife’s edge. “I need to know what this little shit knows. Why he’s been hiding with Los Lobos . You tell me that, and your position is safe”—the lieutenant shrugged—“for now.”
The lasso around Mat’s chest loosened a fraction. At least he wasn’t about to die right this minute. But he had no clue who this man was or what he would’ve witnessed to seek protection from the Lonewolves.
Mat had never met anyone from their organization. They were far more secretive and far less widespread than the cartels. He’d only ever heard rumors about the group. Many saw them as bandits—freelancers who stuck to gunrunning, document forgery, and human trafficking. They’d also hide you from the cartel . . . for a hefty price.
Whoever the hooded man was—judging by his fancy shoes—he’d been able to afford it. Mat glanced from the traitor to the lieutenant and nodded in response.
El Jaguar seemed satisfied with Mat’s compliance. He stepped onto the plastic, but the man didn’t stir as it crunched under the lieutenant’s shoes. When he reached the hooded figure, El Jaguar pulled the burlap off the man’s head, and Mat’s stomach crashed through the floor, then splashed into the lake.
“El Traidor” was Emiliano Sanchez . . . Imogen’s brother .
◆◆◆
Imogen
Imogen paced around the living room, eyes drawing to the windows to check for Mat. She’d been waiting all day for him to return, and the longer it took, the more anxious she became. Restless energy buzzed through her like livewires. She had to keep moving or scream. While she paced, her nightmare kept playing on repeat in her head.
What if Mat hadn’t come back because El Jaguar had him killed?
Even thinking it strangled all the air from her lungs. She gasped in a breath and shook her head as she paced the length of the couch. The best thing she could do was stay positive. Mat would return.
Any minute.
But one minute stretched into two, then four, then seven, ushered along by the tick-tock of an old clock hanging on the kitchen wall. She ought to turn on the television or some music so it wasn’t the only sound in the empty house.
My life will be empty if Mat doesn’t return.
She couldn’t handle losing him and her brother. Not after they’d found each other again.
An even more terrifying thought struck Imogen, and she stopped in her tracks. What if Mat disappeared again because he thought it best for her?
A screech of pure frustration echoed across the ceiling beams. If he did, it would be her fault. He’d asked for forgiveness last night . . . and she hadn’t given it to him. She’d wanted to, but old fears held the words back.
His mistake had cost them five years. Was she going to let it cost them a future, too?
Though her mind gave a very emphatic no, she wondered if now, she’d even have the chance to test her resolve. A sigh sunk her chest as she resumed pacing. Maybe if worry wasn’t eating her up inside, she’d be able to think more clearly.
Mat would return, and she needed a plan because she couldn’t stand another day cooped up in his house. She’d lost access to the lieutenant, but Mat hadn’t. There had to be another avenue to explore to find her brother.
The front door banged shut, pulled by the force of the wind. Mid-litany, Imogen spun around.
Mat!
Her heart jumped in her chest. She was so relieved to see him that she bounded toward him, throwing her arms around his waist when she reached him. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
Her nightmare hadn’t come true.
El Jaguar hadn’t hurt him.
But as those thoughts ran through her head, she realized the man she embraced felt cold and stiff.
Pulling back, she studied his face. He looked beaten down, even without any physical marks. “What’s wrong?”
His voice came out flat, his usual drawl gone. “I found Emil.”
Excitement was her first reaction, but then his voice and demeanor registered. Tears flooded her eyes while a silent scream wrenched her lungs, and she gasped, “Tell me he’s not dead.”
“Dammit!” Mat finally touched her, capturing her face and tilting it to meet his, he kissed her forehead. “I shoulda said that to start with. He’s alive bu—”
Imogen choked back a sob. “ Gracias a Dios !”
Mat still wore a haunted look. “Gen, the lieutenant has him.”
“So we get him back.” She gripped his wrists in desperation, where they cupped her face. “You can do that, can’t you? El Jaguar still thinks you’re one of them.”
“It’s my fault they have him. I fed the cartel a bogus story about him betrayin’ us so they’d help find him.” Mat’s voice cracked before he added, “That’s why they captured him and almost killed him.” Shame colored the words, but she couldn’t let Mat carry that load. Not when the burden was hers.
“No, it’s my fault.” He’d dropped his hands and turned away. Refusing to let him shoulder the guilt, she gripped his arm and tugged him to face her. “I asked you to help look for Emil in the first place.”
Mat just shook his head, but she couldn’t let the guilt eat at either of them. Not when this was potentially good news. She reached for Mat’s hand and laced her fingers through his. “At least now we know where Emil is.” Fear of what the cartel would do to him crept over her skin, and she fought a shudder. “We have to get him out of there.”
“I have a plan.”
Imogen waited for him to tell her what it was, but the seconds stretched without response. He didn’t want to tell her, which made her all the more anxious to know what it was. She propped her hands on her hips and stared him down. “He’s my brother, Mat. I deserve to know.”
“I know.” With a heavy sigh, he scrubbed his hands down his face. “I used you as an excuse to buy some time.”
“Me?” Confusion created lines on her forehead. What did he mean?
“I made sure Emil wouldn’t blow my cover, then told the lieutenant I’d return with somethin’ to make him talk—his sister.”
“Oh.” Imogen’s eyes widened a little as she let that sink in. She’d have to go back into the lion’s den. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
But Mat shook his head with a growl. “No. That’s not what I meant. You’re not goin’ anywhere near El Jaguar .”
“But how . . .” She was missing an integral piece of the puzzle and needed Mat to supply it.
“A female Ranger will go in your place.”
Imogen opened her mouth to protest putting someone else in danger, but Mat pressed on.
“Think about it, Gen. He already knows what you look like. If I took you, I’d be implicatin’ myself.” He gripped her shoulders to hammer his point home. “This is the only way the plan works.”
She didn’t want to agree with him, but he was right. If she went as herself, they’d all be in danger. “Fine. But how does that help get Emil back? Now you’ll have two people who need to escape.”
Mat released her and tugged at his shirt collar with his index finger. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “I kill them. Th—”
“Kill who? El Jaguar ? What about all his men?” She tried to give Mat the benefit of the doubt, but so far, this plan seemed rather reckless.
He cleared his throat. “No. I’ll kill Emil and the Ranger.”
Shock made her stumble back a step. “Wh—what?”
“I’ll kill ’em for show. The lieutenant’ll expect me to dispose of the bodies. That’s when I’ll leave with Emil and the Ranger, gettin’ everyone to safety.”
“ Por Dios .” Her hand flew to her mouth in horror as she pictured that scenario. It sounded too risky. Too many things could go wrong. “What if—”
“That question’s not gonna do any of us any good.” Though he cut her off with the harsh statement, his hands were gentle when they captured her face. He brushed a loose strand of hair off her brow. “If I’m gonna make it through this, I need to know you’re safe.”
Make it through this . . .
His words cut like shards of glass. He had to make it through this; she didn’t want to consider the alternative. God couldn’t be so cruel as to bring Mat back into her life only to take him from her, could he?
Desperate need swept over her—Mat had to live. It blotted out reason, rushing frantically through her blood and pooling in her core. “How long?” Using his chest for balance, she pushed up on her toes to bring their faces closer together. “How long until you have to go?”
His gaze heated, but he said, “Not long enough.”
She trapped his bottom lip between her teeth, eyes shimmering with desire. She nibbled and nipped before stating, “Then we’ll be quick.”
When he twitched against her belly, she pulled his lips to hers for a kiss as crushing as the weight they were up against. Taking his hands, she slid them over her backside. Encouraged when he grabbed on, she started to work on the belt he wore.
He sucked at her neck as he groped her, and a thrill raced through her body, warming her belly like a shot of tequila. She needed to touch him, to score in her memory the emotion he stirred in her, so she’d have it to look back on, no matter what. But she did it with racing hands, fingers flying over the strength she could feel through his clothes. They didn’t have time for lingering touches or deep kisses that could leave you drugged for hours.
She felt the clock ticking like a time bomb as she undid his suit pants and lowered the zipper. Mat said her name, a desperate puff of air against her mouth, but she was just as lost as he was. Maybe it was the threat of death, but what she felt, what she wanted, was a primitive mating of their two bodies together.
Alive. He was alive now, and that’s what mattered.
She shimmied out of her bikini bottoms, then dragged him toward the couch. Half-clothed, he lowered them onto it and covered her with his body. The hazel in his eyes thinned as she wrapped her legs around his waist and took him in.
Connected as they were, she surrendered to Mat. He had her body and her heart. It made her tremble. They stared at each other, exchanging words without speaking. It would never be enough. Whatever time they had together. Whether it was ten minutes or forever, what she felt and what she saw in Mat’s eyes had the power to outlast it all.
Understanding, he crushed his mouth to hers. From her tongue to her core, she met his thrusts as they christened his sofa. The leather squawked under them as they drove each other to madness.
The sounds of their coupling—the harsh, heavy breathing, the gasps and moans—grew louder, but Imogen barely registered them over the beating of her heart. Her body was so warm, her blood so hot, especially where it pulsed between her legs.
Tears filled her eyes, overcome with everything she felt. Ecstasy and resignation fought a battle in her heart, but the high hit first. “Mat!” Imogen’s back arched, her head lifting off the sofa as the orgasm ripped through her.
Salt met her lips as she sank back onto the leather, body quivering around Mat before he gave a final thrust and followed her into bliss with a grunted expletive.
She swiped at the tears as she drew in a deep breath. They’d stolen these few minutes, but he had to go. To leave her.
“I love you, Gen,” Mat murmured against her shoulder before he lifted himself with a sigh.
She pulled his t-shirt down over her bare bottom half while he pulled his pants up and redid his belt. Fighting the urge to cling to him, she stood while he finished adjusting his clothes.
When he had, he tilted her lips up as he lowered his head, capturing her mouth in a sweet kiss that spoke of goodbye. She felt a shudder rack his frame and wondered what caused it. If he was worried about her, she was ten times more worried about him.
When he stepped away, she clung to his suit jacket. “Mat, wait!” Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled his mouth back to hers. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing him, but the fear nipped at her anyway. Unable to outrun it, she poured it all into the kiss. Everything she felt from desperation, worry, hope, and above all, love. Love she’d kept locked away for too long that needed to be free. Free to bestow on the man she loved.
Even though she didn’t want to let him walk out the door, she knew he had to. Leashing her reluctance, she lowered back to the floor. “I love you.” Stroking his cheek, she implored him with her eyes and voice, “Come back to me.”