Seventy-Five

Sabrina cast a glance over Reyes’s shoulder at his son, trying to decide if this had been his plan all along. Trying to formulate a plan of her own if shit went south.

“Why is she bleeding?” Reyes said, casting his glance along with hers. Looking to his son for an explanation.

For a moment she thought he was referring to the bruise and busted lip he’d given her earlier, but then she felt the wet trickle against her neck and she swiped at it. The bullet graze from the hospital. It must’ve reopened when she and the guard had gone a round in the hallway.

Estefan stood, his insolent manner instantly replaced by one of respect that bordered on reverence. “When I happened upon her, she was in the hallway with Eduardo. They were … fighting.”

“And you thought to bring her into my office?” Reyes spoke to his son while continuing to scrutinize her, looking for cracks he could dig his fingers into.

“She was visibly upset. I thought a quick drink would calm her,” Estefan said, the lie so smooth she almost believed it herself.

Reyes reached out, cupping her neck to angle her jaw so that he could get a better look. She had to fight to stop herself from jerking out from under his grasp. “Was it Eduardo who injured you, Sabrina?”

He was close—too close. She wasn’t ready. She still had no idea where they were holding Leo. Even if she managed, by some miracle, to kill both Reyes and his son, she’d never find the boy. Not before she was killed.

Now ain’t the time, darlin’. Be cool.

She wiped at her neck again, angling herself away from Reyes. The blood had gone thick, tacky under her fingers. “It’s just a wound that’s reopened. No big deal.”

“But he touched you, yes?” He smiled at her reluctance to point fingers. “It’s okay. The truth is all that’s required.”

Looking past him, she found the clock perched on his desk. It was 8:55. “I’d like to go back to my room now.”

Reyes chuckled, letting go of her chin to take a step back. “Of course. It’s getting late.” He looked at his son. “You know what to do.”

Estefan nodded. “Yes, father,” he said, his gaze passing over her before he left.

Reyes swept his arm in a grand gesture. “Please, allow me to escort you,” he said, playing the part of perfect gentleman instead of sadistic murderer.

Swallowing the shitty remark that bubbled in her throat, Sabrina forced her mouth into a cool smile. “Thank you.”

They walked side by side, quiet, while she fought the urge to look at him.

“I spoke with Cartero last evening,” he told her. “It won’t be long until he comes for you.”

“You mean it won’t be long before you kill me, don’t you?” she said, careful to keep her tone conversational.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t behave in a civilized manner until then, does it?” He smiled at her, glancing at his watch. “We have a few minutes left. Come to the window, there is something I wish you to see,” he said, turning the knob beneath his hand to usher her inside.

The room was as she’d left it save for the fact that the heavy velvet drapes were drawn away from the windows, the carefully manicured lawn brightly lit beyond it.

Eduardo knelt in the grass facing the window, no more than ten yards away. He was close enough that the terror written on his face was stark and visible through the glass between them. When he saw her, his mouth began to move rapidly, but the windowpane was too thick to allow the passing of sound.

Estefan stood behind him, the 9mm in his hand pressed into the base of the man’s skull.

“Let’s play a game,” Reyes said beside her, and for just a moment, it was Wade who stood beside her. Wade who wanted to play.

Don’t go there, darlin’. Stay sharp now.

“I don’t like games,” she said quietly. “They usually prove too complicated for my tastes.”

“Yes … you are a simple creature, aren’t you?” He brushed his fingertips along her collarbone, smearing her own blood across her skin. “This game is as simple as they come. It has only one rule: when I ask you a question, you tell the truth,” he said, settling his gaze on her face. “My son said that when he happened upon you and Eduardo in the hall, you were fighting. Is that true?”

She looked up at Estefan. He was watching her.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She flicked her gaze toward the man kneeling on the lawn. “I wanted to use the bathroom before returning to my room. He wanted me to wait.”

“And so you fought?” He all but purred the words into her ear.

Don’t look at him, darlin’.

“Yes.”

“Was it he who put his hands on you first, Sabrina?”

“No,” she said, turning to look him in the eye, despite Wade’s warning echoing inside her head. “You were when you bitch-slapped me earlier. Technically, he’s the second.”

He smiled widely as if the memory of it bonded them together. “Let me rephrase. During your altercation with Eduardo, was it he who decided to use his hands first?”

She remembered how he’d grabbed her arm to try to move her along. “Yes.”

“And you warned him not to touch you, but he didn’t listen.” There was an excited edge to his voice. One that unsettled her.

“Yes.” She looked away from him then, unable to stomach another second of eye contact between them.

“And you struck back.” He touched her again, trailed his fingers along the length of her arm until he found her hand, caressing the back of it. “You hit him. Injured him.”

She fought the urge to yank her hand away from his. “Yes.”

“If I were to put my hands on you … if I were to hurt you, would you try to kill me?”

A howling wind took up inside her head, one that rattled her bones and clouded her vision. She curled her free hand into a fist but kept her head turned straight ahead, staring into the middle space between her and the man who knelt before her on the lawn. “Yes.”

“Even if it meant the death of both you and little Leo?”

God help her … “Yes.”

Reyes laughed, the sound of it obscene as it slithered into her ear. “I believe you.”

Some unseen signal passed through the window between father and son, and the trigger was pulled. The 9mm round rocketed through Eduardo’s skull to burst through his eye socket, spraying blood and brain across the bright green of the grass.

“The only thing I tolerate less than disobedience is lies.” He tightened his grip on her hand until it almost hurt. “What were you doing in my office, Sabrina?”

She kept her eyes trained on some fixed point beyond the window. The LCP tucked into her boot bit hard into her ankle. Reyes’s thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist, the bracelet Michael had given her shifting against her skin, and for a moment she was sure he knew what it really was.

“Your son took me into your office and offered me a drink like he said. I accepted and after I used the toilet, I flushed and then washed my hands.” She forced herself to look at him again, allowing herself to be caught in the flat, emotionless dark of his eyes. “I was just finishing up when you knocked.”

He smiled. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Reyes leaned into her, pressing his mouth against hers. His tongue snaked out to run itself along the cut his earlier blow had drawn across her lip, the pressure of it igniting a hissing sting against her mouth. Before she had time to react, Reyes had pulled away and was moving toward the door. “Good night, Sabrina,” he said as he pulled it closed.

Seconds later, the auto-lock engaged on her bedroom door, trapping her inside.