Chapter 38
A few hours after Rocco left for the Palmchat Islands, the tracking app on Eddie’s phone pinged. Puerto Rico’s latest drug lord was on the move, starting in Punta Cana and ending at a popular beachfront restaurant in Dajabon.
When Jemma arrived at the restaurant, she spotted Eddie alone at a table in the corner. He had enough food to feed a crowd, but his attention was on his cell phone. He swiped and typed constantly, stopping every few seconds to shove more food in his mouth.
Satisfied that her intel was reliable, Jemma exited and found a spot on a bench nearby that gave her the perfect vantage to monitor Eddie’s movements. When he left the restaurant, she’d follow him. Fingers crossed, he’d lead her directly to Nomar.
Another hour passed in a blur, with patrons entering and exiting the restaurant. Unease snaked within her. Had she missed something? Jemma grabbed her purse, returned to the restaurant, and approached the hostess.
“Table for one, please.” She gazed at the table where Eddie had been sitting.
He was gone. Damn it.
“Inside or Out?” The hostess asked.
“Outside,” Jemma said, her voice more terse than intended. She snatched her phone from her purse and opened the tracker app.
Eddie had turned the burner phone off, and the digital trail was cold. Her only link to him had vanished for now.
The hostess led her to a table nearest the shoreline. While here, she might as well enjoy dinner and a drink. Rocco won’t be back from the Palmchat Islands until tomorrow. After giving her order, she leaned back in her chair, her mind racing through potential strategies, calculating her next move.
”You just missed him,” a voice, both familiar and chilling, broke her concentration.
Jemma”s muscles tensed. Rigid alertness took over as she turned to face Nomar—the man whose presence she had both anticipated and feared since the moment she discovered Eddie”s identity. Nomar leaned in, his arms encircling her in a disarming embrace, and planted a soft kiss on her temple.
”I know that’s why you’re here,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. He dragged a chair closer and sat down, draping an arm around her shoulders, the gesture a perverse mimicry of intimacy.
“It wasn’t too hard to make the connection. Eddie Baez is your son, Eduardito,” Jemma said.
Pride flashed in Nomar’s eyes. ”He doesn’t remember you. Doesn’t know who you are, if that’s what you’re wondering. He won’t blow your cover.”
”I’m surprised you didn’t tell him.”
“He thinks you’re the reason your doctor boyfriend hasn’t told Vance about my son’s regrettable connections to the DEA from years ago. The good doctor keeps his mouth shut to ensure you don’t discover the truth about his clinic. He’s got it in his head that you’re clueless that your man works for a drug lord.” Nomar’s fingers played with her hair, casually twisting strands around his fingers. “But we both know better, don’t we?”
Jemma was quiet, not giving Nomar the satisfaction of confirming or denying if she was on another undercover assignment. She’d much rather Nomar believed that than suspect that Rocco was the real UC.
“Does he know who you are, or are you lying to him like you lied to me?” Nomar”s voice was taunting, his eyes searching hers for something she wouldn”t give him.
”What do you think?” she deflected, her tone noncommittal.
”Poor bastard. He’ll be devastated once he finds out about your betrayal.” Nomar”s hand trailed down her neck, his touch a feigned tenderness that couldn”t disguise the threat behind it. “But I won’t be the one to tell him.”
She resisted the instinct to pull away. ”Why are you keeping my secret?”
“Because you’re after a bigger fish than my boy. You need El Sombro. The way I see it, if you manage to topple his organization, we win because of the vacuum it will create that Eddie is primed and ready to step into,” Nomar explained.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’d use me to get rid of your rivals like your son used the DEA to do the same.”
“Not my first choice, but it is effective,” Nomar admitted. “Now, if you fail in your mission, then the groundwork has been laid for El Sombro to help my son get to where he’s destined.”
“You want him to resurrect the Ortiz Cartel,” Jemma said, realizing Nomar’s plan.
“You stole his birthright from him. I’m going to help him get it back,” Nomar confirmed. Nomar”s words had a bitter edge, a lingering resentment for lost fortunes.
“I won’t let the happen.”
“You say that as if I’d give you a choice.”
Jemma leaned back in her chair. “Are you here to eliminate me as a threat? To take my entire life away. Make me desperately crave the one thing I’ve worked my whole life to stop. To be strung out, a drug addict, and your personal whore,” Jemma recited his threat from the past, the words scratched in her memory like a scar.
”I’m honored that you remembered my words and my desires,” Nomar said, a disturbing sense of pride in his voice.
Jemma”s face remained impassive, her control ironclad. ”I never forget a threat.”
”Don’t think of it as a threat,” Nomar leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. ”Think of it as a promise from a man who has not been able to stop thinking about you in almost twenty years. To answer your question, no. It’s not time for us yet. But it will be soon.”
Her response was cold, her stance unwavering. ”Well, let me make you a promise.”
He raised an eyebrow. ”What’s that?”
”I will stand over your body as the life drains from your cold, dark eyes and enjoy every second of it.”
The air between them crackled with the tension of their mutual animosity. ”Well, only one of us can get what we want,” Nomar said, his voice a mix of challenge and inevitability.
Without warning, he gripped her neck, his fingers firm, forcing her to meet his gaze. He pressed his lips to hers in a rough kiss, his tongue invading her mouth with a voracious hunger. He moaned into the kiss, seeking a connection Jemma refused to give.
She recoiled, her stomach turning at the violation, but she couldn’t cause a scene. Not when it could compromise everything. She remained still, not responding, giving him nothing but the illusion of control.
At last, Nomar pulled back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. ”May the best of us win,” he said, his voice smooth as silk and just as deceptive.
As he walked away, she silently vowed she would be the one left standing, whatever it took.