“Met a man on the way out. He knew I was going to be there and came to deliver a message.”
“Who sent him?”
“Don’t know, there was a language barrier. He left the message and told me he’d been instructed to keep my route clear of workers. I’m at the highway now and haven’t seen another vehicle.”
“What’s the message?”
“Don’t know. I haven’t read it.”
There was a stretch of silence that lasted so long I thought the call had been dropped.
“How secure are you?” Zane asked.
“You’re on speaker,” Myles retorted.
“We’ll talk when you get to the hotel. I’m sending an address in Loma. You’ll stop there and pick up your new papers. Ivy booked your hotel. I threatened to take the cost out of her paycheck, she laughed in my face. I’m sure you can expect an oceanfront suite.”
“Where are we headed?”
“Mazatlán.”
Zane sounded disgruntled. Myles did not, he chuckled.
“Do I need to find a doc?”
Myles’s amusement died a quick death and his eyes came to me. His expression was so blank it took me by surprise. I didn’t know a face could be so devoid of emotion. There wasn’t a line, a crinkle, a twitch. Nothing.
I shook my head no and Myles verbalized my answer.
“Negative.”
“Check in.”
“Before you go,” Myles started. “I need you to set up a call with Evette.”
“Not gonna happen,” Zane barked.
“This is a two-way street, Z.”
“For now it’s a one-way with a do not enter sign and you damn well know it. Watch your back.”
The call ended and I was left confused.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Let’s get you fed and to the hotel. I’ll explain everything there.”
The hotel.
“Will you leave me there?”
“No.”
His clipped one-word answer did nothing to alleviate the fear that was bouncing around my chest.
“Will you explain to me what’s going on?”
“First we’re stopping to pick up new identities and cash. Then we’re checking into a hotel. Zane’s correct, it will be oceanfront and a suite. Likely it will be the most expensive in Mazatlán. You’ll get a good meal in your belly, you’ll get a shower, you’ll relax, then we’ll talk about Abrams, Tamir, Evette, and what’s happened over the two months you’ve been missing.”
I pushed my question about the hotel and why he thought it would be the most expensive aside and concentrated on Abrams, Tamir, and Evette.
“Is Evette okay? Did they get to her?”
“That’s a story for the hotel.” Myles’s response was firm, resolute, and held an edge of bitterness.
Guilt clawed at my insides. I should’ve found another way to expose Abrams and Dr. Ramon Gates and his disgusting experiments. I should’ve gone directly to the police as soon as I’d read Dr. Alejandro Arias’ report. The problem was the police would’ve thought I was crazy. No one would believe the story I had to tell. It had all the makings of a futuristic sci-fi movie—and not a good one. The evil villain who planned to take over the world. The trusted right-hand man who kidnapped and killed for the villain. The mad scientist and pig brain experiments. Artificial Intelligence and super soldiers. And of course, there was the lowly woman who could blow the villain’s plan, so she’d have to die.
Yeah, no one was going to believe me. Not Zane or Myles or the authorities.
My one hope had been Evette. She’d only found the first thread and hadn’t begun to unravel the evil Aviv Abrams had planned. And if she’d figured out what Aviv wanted to do it was so outlandish, so unbelievable, there was a strong possibility even Evette would’ve laughed it off as the ramblings of a man who’d lost his mind. But Aviv Abrams wasn’t rambling. He was experimenting, and had been for years.
If I told them what I knew, they’d think I was a whack job and ditch me. Then I’d be as good as dead. Aviv knew what I’d found.
I knew way too much.
I knew everything.
And that knowledge was my death sentence.
Chapter 5
I’d done a damn good job ignoring Delilah’s appearance—until now.
It had been easy to overlook her gaunt form, dirty clothes, matted and unwashed hair, pale skin, and the stench of fear that clung to her when she slept in the backseat on the way to Loma. She hadn’t stirred when a man came to the car, wordlessly handed me a thick envelope, and walked away.
But now, at the hotel, I could no longer ignore it—I couldn’t because Delilah couldn’t. I wanted to beat the hell out of every motherfucker staring at her. And my boss for putting us up in a resort town. Not only that but a high-class, expensive resort town. Delilah had refused to go into the hotel with me to check in. And she was pissed as fuck at me when I refused to leave her in the car. The argument had led to me reminding her that Tamir was still on the loose and so was Aviv Abrams. I was a one-man show and the only person standing between her and death.
I didn’t miss the look the front desk clerk gave her and neither did she. If it was possible, Delilah’s already ghastly complexion bleached further. It had taken all of my control not to draw unwanted attention and punch the fucker in the face. By the time we made it to the elevator, Delilah was visibly shaking and my temper had flared to the surface.
I was powerless, completely and utterly unable to help Delilah in any way. I had no right to pull her close and shield her bodily from onlookers. There was nothing I could say to her that wouldn’t sound contrite or patronizing.
“Fuck, ‘em,” I grounded out between my clenched teeth.
Delilah’s torso jerked along with her shoulders and finally, her head snapped in my direction. Dirt and grime streaked her neck and lower part of her jaw up to her ear.
She looked like a hot mess.
A hot mess who was a goddamn survivor.
A hot mess who still managed to be so goddamn pretty her beauty burned through me.
“Do you hear me, Delilah? Fuck ‘em all. Not a single one of those bitches giving you the side-eye in the lobby would’ve lasted a day. And those preppy-ass pussies would’ve shit their pants. You held strong. You didn’t break. You are alive. So fuck them and their judgment. They don’t have the first clue what you lived through.”
She was staring at me unconvinced.
“You’re right, they don’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not horrified.”
“You know the difference between you and them?” I asked and took a step in her direction.
And as if to prove my next words true Delilah stood her ground and straightened her shoulders.
Atta girl.
“Thirty minutes from now, all that dirt will be down the drain, those clothes will be in the trash, and you’ll still be you, brave as fuck. And those assholes downstairs will still be them—spineless, pretentious idiots.”
The elevator doors slid open and Delilah braced until she saw that the hallway was clear then she relaxed and followed me out.
I let Delilah into the room that was indeed the very definition of wealth and class. Ivy Lewis enjoying poking at her husband. She was the only person who could awaken the beast and not get clawed, so she pushed and did stuff like book luxury suites that cost a thousand dollars a night. Normally I found this funny—right then, I did not.