Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“You have to stop the bleeding,” he gritted out.
“I don’t gotta do shit,” I replied bluntly. “You want first aid? Get to fuckin’ talkin’.”
That earned me another glare.
See if I cared.
“Tell me everything you know about the kidnapping,” I demanded.
He swallowed and hissed as he struggled to sit comfortably. No food, cuffed behind his back, same position all day, very little water, and now a gunshot wound. I had to give the man some credit for not being a blubbering mess. Not many could withstand constant discomfort for longer periods of time. Sometimes, that kind of pain was worse than a single blow to the head or getting shot. I knew what he was feeling, after all. I’d gone through training, and…
Fucking Belize.
When your whole body protested and ached. It was hell.
Delgado drew a ragged breath and rested the back of his head against the wall, and he shifted to put more weight on one side of his body. “Carillo targeted a Frank Rivera to get him to put out a hit on Vincente Blanco.”
Frank Rivera.
That was Elliott’s fake identity from when he’d gone undercover in the Blanco cartel.
“Your friend,” Delgado sneered, “would probably know Rivera by another name.” He swallowed hard. “Elliott Jones.”
Fuck.
“Move on.” I had to act like the mention of my boss didn’t matter to me. I was just a Greta follower looking for my buddy.
“They took three people hostage to ensure the job will get done,” he continued. “Your friend is one of them. But he wasn’t supposed to be.”
Oh?
“Who were the initial targets, then?” I asked.
He sniffled and wiped sweat from his face on his uninjured shoulder. “Jones’s sister, niece, and another woman. Marisa Ortega—she was taken.”
I fucking knew that, but thanks for clarifying.
So they’d taken Shay when they hadn’t managed to take Piper? Had Shay gotten in the way somehow?
“Why target this Jones guy in the first place?” I asked next.
“For revenge,” Delgado bit out. “Jones played a significant part in getting Carillo arrested last year.” He didn’t look too happy about that. “Truth be told, I wanted to take a swing at Jones myself.”
Thank fuck, he was giving up on the FBI angle. It’d been ridiculous anyway.
“That’s not difficult to believe,” I said. “You criminal fuckos tend to stick together.”
Delgado looked at me at that, eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you wanted for crimes too?”
Fuck.
I scowled. “Don’t you fucking dare group me together with rapists and murderers. I’m trying to save our planet. We only have one, you know.”
He snorted softly and blew out a breath, and he shook his head drowsily. “Only reason I was pissed off at Jones was because he almost fucked up my case.”
Aw, hell. He was still on that shit.
“Anyway. There you have it.” He eyed his shoulder and winced. “That’s all I know about the kidnapping—and I didn’t find out until after they’d been taken. That’s the truth.”
Like I could trust him—just because he claimed something was true? Whatever. I got up off the floor, ’cause I guessed he’d earned some first aid. I needed the bleeding to stop anyway, if I wanted to keep him talking rather than passing out.
“While I go grab the medic bag, you can ponder your answer to my next question,” I said. “I wanna know about this other group that’s trying to find my buddy. Maybe I should give them a call and hand you over to them.”
With that said, I brought my gun out to the kitchen.
Holy fuck. It was kind of a rush to be part of something like this. To interrogate and read signals and fish for clues. All while it was giving me a headache because I didn’t know what the fuck I could believe.
Additionally, it was getting extremely difficult to keep my story straight. I didn’t know how certain people did that for a living. Elliott had worked undercover a whole lot in his career. Darius too. Meanwhile, I came from a family of grunts. I was infantry. At my level, intel had turned into direct orders that we executed.
Right now, I was mostly winging it. My head was so crammed with information and reactions that I didn’t know if I’d missed any important cues, if I’d given anything away, or what was up and what was down.
Not that I’d admit that to Gramps when he came back tomorrow.
CHAPTER 4
Gray Quinn
“That’s awesome, buddy. I’m glad you’re having fun.” I smiled and headed over to Dare. “You wanna talk to Dad? He just came back with our crappy vending machine dinner. Can you believe that?”
Justin laughed into the phone. “He does not like vending machines! I’ll talk to him. Bye, Dad!”
“Bye, sweetheart. Love you.” I handed the phone over to Darius. “It’s Justin. He has a fishing pole story for ya.”
He chuckled tiredly, and we made the switch. He got the phone, and I got…a bunch of chips and candy bars. Wonderful dinner.