Diego would surround himself with bodyguards from now on and he’d make it as difficult as possible for Ryan to even shoot him from a distance with a sniper rifle. He would have to regroup, wait for his quarry to become complacent and try again at a later date.
It was almost dawn before they entered the outskirts of Rio and stopped in front of a dilapidated hotel. The clerk was half-asleep as they stepped up to the counter. He took their money and handed over a key to a room on the second floor.
Ryan took the lead and headed up the stairs. They climbed in silence, alert for any sounds of pursuit. Unlocking their door, Ryan searched the small room. Apart from the tiny bathroom, there were few places to hide. The bed took up most of the room and it was too low to the ground for anyone to hide beneath. The closet was empty and a few roaches fled when he opened the door.
Abby made no comment at the shabbiness and general squalor of the room when Ryan gestured for her to enter. The yellow paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling. The carpet was musty and had once been light gray. It was closer to black now and she wondered how long it had been since it had last been vacuumed. The linen looked clean enough, not that she’d be using the bed.
Ryan handed the key to Abby after inspecting their room . She’d had no sleep and had been through hell, yet she still looked fresh and beautiful. “I’m going to find some medical supplies,” he said. “Make sure it’s me before you open the door.”
Rolling her eyes at the unnecessary admonition, she pushed him towards the door. “Just hurry up and get back before infection sets in.”
Ryan quietly retreated to the ground floor and stepped out onto the street. It took him nearly twenty minutes to find a store that was open and sold medical supplies. He didn’t even earn a twitch of curiosity from the man behind the counter when he handed over the small pile of medical supplies. In this part of town, knife wounds and bullet wounds were all too common.
He headed back to the hotel and remained alert for Montoya’s men. Stopping down the street from the hotel, he looked up at the second floor. He spied Abby’s face briefly in the window before she stepped back out of sight. Increasingly intrigued by her, he knew he had no right to ask her any questions. He’d put her in danger when he’d kidnapped her and she’d been forced to kill a man to defend herself. He was lucky she hadn’t run for the police the moment his back had been turned.
Pausing for a few moments, he searched for anyone watching the hotel with too much interest. No one seemed to be lurking nearby, so he crossed the street and climbed back up to the second floor. Abby opened the door at his light knock.
Taking the supplies from Ryan, Abby motioned to the bed. “Take your shirt off and sit down.”
Raising a brow at her preemptory tone, Ryan did as instructed. He took the shirt off and sat wearily. Adrenalin had kept him going for a while, but exhaustion was making itself known. He needed to sleep and now was the worst possible time to give into his weariness. He needed to get Abby to the airport and safely on a plane back home.
Stepping into the bathroom, Abby soaked a washer then returned to Ryan. He looked tired and defeated. She had no idea why he’d wanted that man dead, but he was devastated that he’d failed to kill him. If she hadn’t vowed not to use her skills ever again, she’d have offered to help him hunt the man down. “Who is he?” she asked as she put the sopping wet washer on the handkerchief. It would be easier to remove when it was soaked.
“His name is Diego Montoya,” Ryan said. There was no harm in telling her his name, since she’d soon be on a plane and heading far away from Brazil.
“I take it he is the leader of the criminal underworld in Rio?”
“You could say that,” Ryan said with a small smile, then winced slightly at the sting when Abby peeled off the
It was almost dawn before they entered the outskirts of Rio and stopped in front of a dilapidated hotel. The clerk was half-asleep as they stepped up to the counter. He took their money and handed over a key to a room on the second floor.
Ryan took the lead and headed up the stairs. They climbed in silence, alert for any sounds of pursuit. Unlocking their door, Ryan searched the small room. Apart from the tiny bathroom, there were few places to hide. The bed took up most of the room and it was too low to the ground for anyone to hide beneath. The closet was empty and a few roaches fled when he opened the door.
Abby made no comment at the shabbiness and general squalor of the room when Ryan gestured for her to enter. The yellow paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling. The carpet was musty and had once been light gray. It was closer to black now and she wondered how long it had been since it had last been vacuumed. The linen looked clean enough, not that she’d be using the bed.
Ryan handed the key to Abby after inspecting their room . She’d had no sleep and had been through hell, yet she still looked fresh and beautiful. “I’m going to find some medical supplies,” he said. “Make sure it’s me before you open the door.”
Rolling her eyes at the unnecessary admonition, she pushed him towards the door. “Just hurry up and get back before infection sets in.”
Ryan quietly retreated to the ground floor and stepped out onto the street. It took him nearly twenty minutes to find a store that was open and sold medical supplies. He didn’t even earn a twitch of curiosity from the man behind the counter when he handed over the small pile of medical supplies. In this part of town, knife wounds and bullet wounds were all too common.
He headed back to the hotel and remained alert for Montoya’s men. Stopping down the street from the hotel, he looked up at the second floor. He spied Abby’s face briefly in the window before she stepped back out of sight. Increasingly intrigued by her, he knew he had no right to ask her any questions. He’d put her in danger when he’d kidnapped her and she’d been forced to kill a man to defend herself. He was lucky she hadn’t run for the police the moment his back had been turned.
Pausing for a few moments, he searched for anyone watching the hotel with too much interest. No one seemed to be lurking nearby, so he crossed the street and climbed back up to the second floor. Abby opened the door at his light knock.
Taking the supplies from Ryan, Abby motioned to the bed. “Take your shirt off and sit down.”
Raising a brow at her preemptory tone, Ryan did as instructed. He took the shirt off and sat wearily. Adrenalin had kept him going for a while, but exhaustion was making itself known. He needed to sleep and now was the worst possible time to give into his weariness. He needed to get Abby to the airport and safely on a plane back home.
Stepping into the bathroom, Abby soaked a washer then returned to Ryan. He looked tired and defeated. She had no idea why he’d wanted that man dead, but he was devastated that he’d failed to kill him. If she hadn’t vowed not to use her skills ever again, she’d have offered to help him hunt the man down. “Who is he?” she asked as she put the sopping wet washer on the handkerchief. It would be easier to remove when it was soaked.
“His name is Diego Montoya,” Ryan said. There was no harm in telling her his name, since she’d soon be on a plane and heading far away from Brazil.
“I take it he is the leader of the criminal underworld in Rio?”
“You could say that,” Ryan said with a small smile, then winced slightly at the sting when Abby peeled off the
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