and
left with them instead? “I’m certain she won’t be studying all night.”
“Good for her if she doesn’t.”
“I agree.” Lifting his hands to Danielle’s head, sinking his
fingers into her thick mane, he brushed his mouth over hers.
On a whimpering sigh, Danielle parted her lips to his.
Filling her with his tongue, Cubrero kissed her deeply, with passion generated
by revenge rather than lust. Not understanding the difference, she yielded
without pause, forgetting about dinner, inviting him to her bed.
As she undressed, he did not, trying to get more out of her
about the men Lea had found interesting. Offering nothing of value, she finally
frowned, as though suspicious of his questions. He responded with a smile. It
brought quick alarm to her eyes. Before she could do anything about it, she was
dead.
Replacing the picture on the metal stand, he went to the
desk in the corner of the room and rifled through its drawers. Within minutes,
he had Lea’s address, but little else. He checked Danielle’s cellphone to see
if Lea had called or texted.
She had not.
Tempering his irritation, he located Lea’s number, punched
the correct key and waited through five rings. At last they broke off, replaced
by a bit of static.
“Danielle?” a female asked. Lea.
Delight brought a quick smile to Cubrero’s face. He said
nothing, listening instead to what sounded like someone slamming a car door,
then a deep male voice asking, “What are you doing?”
“Talking to my— Hey!” Lea cried.
There was a series of clicks as the call cut off.
Cubrero’s mind raced, returning to what Danielle had told
him about Lea’s attraction to two men in the audience.
Clearly, she’d left with them. They weren’t ordinary
admirers who wanted to sleep with her, but men who had enough power to ask what
she was doing and take her phone, disconnecting the call.
Police would do that. Or the feds.
Cubrero’s body shook with savage rage. He squeezed the phone
so tightly, the plastic snapped. Resisting the urge to hurl it across the room
and make any undue noise, he placed the device on Danielle’s desk, then stepped
back to consider this unexpected turn of events.
Lea was no longer alone. She might be in police custody…or
with U.S. Marshals. Already they’d taken her mother from his grasp. No doubt
the woman had told them about Lea.
Fuck.
With his hands gripping the back of a chair, he forced
himself to breathe as deeply as he could, refusing to give up. Manuel Morales’
testimony had taken his father from him when he was only a boy, giving Cubrero
no choice except to bide his time, to wait too many years to learn the
traitor’s location. Weeks ago, he finally had. Days before, he’d tortured
Morales, making him pay for his treachery with his life. For his sins, his wife
would also pay. The same as his daughter.
Cubrero would find them both, proving to his subordinates
that he was without remorse or mercy, never forgetting a betrayal. And that
dealing with the devil would be easier and far kinder than having to face him.
Lea glared at Jake.
He stood outside the building’s front doors, the panes of
glass bleeding brighter colors onto his coppery complexion and black clothing.
Coolish wind lifted his hair, sending it in all directions, making him seem as
untamed as their surroundings. The noise of boisterous insects and rushing
water sounded from within the vegetation around them, so dense and dark it
appeared the stuff of nightmares.
Neither it nor Jake cowed Lea. Her shoulders tightened.
“Give it back to me,” she ordered, extending her hand for her cellphone. She
needed to speak to Danielle, to tell her friend where she was, what had
happened and that, no matter what, they’d be together again.
Ignoring her, Jake slipped the instrument into his jeans’
front pocket.
Lea couldn’t believe it. What in the hell did he think he
was doing? She wasn’t a prisoner. Had he somehow forgotten she was the
left with them instead? “I’m certain she won’t be studying all night.”
“Good for her if she doesn’t.”
“I agree.” Lifting his hands to Danielle’s head, sinking his
fingers into her thick mane, he brushed his mouth over hers.
On a whimpering sigh, Danielle parted her lips to his.
Filling her with his tongue, Cubrero kissed her deeply, with passion generated
by revenge rather than lust. Not understanding the difference, she yielded
without pause, forgetting about dinner, inviting him to her bed.
As she undressed, he did not, trying to get more out of her
about the men Lea had found interesting. Offering nothing of value, she finally
frowned, as though suspicious of his questions. He responded with a smile. It
brought quick alarm to her eyes. Before she could do anything about it, she was
dead.
Replacing the picture on the metal stand, he went to the
desk in the corner of the room and rifled through its drawers. Within minutes,
he had Lea’s address, but little else. He checked Danielle’s cellphone to see
if Lea had called or texted.
She had not.
Tempering his irritation, he located Lea’s number, punched
the correct key and waited through five rings. At last they broke off, replaced
by a bit of static.
“Danielle?” a female asked. Lea.
Delight brought a quick smile to Cubrero’s face. He said
nothing, listening instead to what sounded like someone slamming a car door,
then a deep male voice asking, “What are you doing?”
“Talking to my— Hey!” Lea cried.
There was a series of clicks as the call cut off.
Cubrero’s mind raced, returning to what Danielle had told
him about Lea’s attraction to two men in the audience.
Clearly, she’d left with them. They weren’t ordinary
admirers who wanted to sleep with her, but men who had enough power to ask what
she was doing and take her phone, disconnecting the call.
Police would do that. Or the feds.
Cubrero’s body shook with savage rage. He squeezed the phone
so tightly, the plastic snapped. Resisting the urge to hurl it across the room
and make any undue noise, he placed the device on Danielle’s desk, then stepped
back to consider this unexpected turn of events.
Lea was no longer alone. She might be in police custody…or
with U.S. Marshals. Already they’d taken her mother from his grasp. No doubt
the woman had told them about Lea.
Fuck.
With his hands gripping the back of a chair, he forced
himself to breathe as deeply as he could, refusing to give up. Manuel Morales’
testimony had taken his father from him when he was only a boy, giving Cubrero
no choice except to bide his time, to wait too many years to learn the
traitor’s location. Weeks ago, he finally had. Days before, he’d tortured
Morales, making him pay for his treachery with his life. For his sins, his wife
would also pay. The same as his daughter.
Cubrero would find them both, proving to his subordinates
that he was without remorse or mercy, never forgetting a betrayal. And that
dealing with the devil would be easier and far kinder than having to face him.
Lea glared at Jake.
He stood outside the building’s front doors, the panes of
glass bleeding brighter colors onto his coppery complexion and black clothing.
Coolish wind lifted his hair, sending it in all directions, making him seem as
untamed as their surroundings. The noise of boisterous insects and rushing
water sounded from within the vegetation around them, so dense and dark it
appeared the stuff of nightmares.
Neither it nor Jake cowed Lea. Her shoulders tightened.
“Give it back to me,” she ordered, extending her hand for her cellphone. She
needed to speak to Danielle, to tell her friend where she was, what had
happened and that, no matter what, they’d be together again.
Ignoring her, Jake slipped the instrument into his jeans’
front pocket.
Lea couldn’t believe it. What in the hell did he think he
was doing? She wasn’t a prisoner. Had he somehow forgotten she was the
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