Benicio’s smile turned chilly. “I come in good faith, Ms. Morgan. I’m here to stop these endless killings.”
“I see. And how are you going to do that?”
“How are we going to do that,” he corrected.
She raised one eyebrow.
“We can work together.”
Cate sensed Ash coming up to stand behind her. “Or we can just kill you,” he drawled, his Southern accent rearing up.
Benicio’s mouth twisted. “My death is just one. If we don’t stop my father, you’ll be grieving for dozens.” He stretched a hand around the room. “Can you really tell me that my life, just one life, is the equivalent of all your loved ones?”
“It’d be a good down payment,” Cate answered. The remark generated a few snorts and bolstered her confidence. “So let’s talk. You want a deal, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Tell us what the terms are. What you want and what we get in return.”
Benicio leaned forward. “When I was a child my mother would call for us to come to the table. Adrián and I were to race each other and the first to the table would get a prize. Sometimes it would be money, sometimes a small privilege, such as skipping a lesson or extra time with our friends. It was very small, but we were to fight for it nonetheless. My brother would trip me, push me down. A few times he would tie me up.” He frowned deeply before continuing. “I learned to stay close to the kitchen and I made friends with the cooks. And before long I was the first at the table. I did not have to use force like my brother. I used my head.” He tapped the side of his skull. “It’s why I am here and he is not.”
“Your brother got shot up by our team. That’s why you’re here and he’s not,” Ash said coldly.
“Americans see things in such finite terms,” Benicio scoffed. “You on one side, we on the other. Adrián is dead, and while I mourn him, I also acknowledge the necessity of it. He was a violent man. Maybe with his death, there’ll be less violence in this world.”
“Your brother must’ve beat you to the table a lot.”
“Many times,” Benicio admitted. “He excelled at using brute force to win all arguments.”
He reached down. In a blur of movement, Ash was between them with a knife at Benicio’s throat.
“Keep your hands where we can see them,” Ash growled.
Benicio raised one arm into the air. “I am just showing her a scar. Nothing more.”
Ash still didn’t move, not even when Benicio’s shirt came up to reveal a jagged line of white puckered skin below the young man’s rib cage.
“My brother gave me this when I was nine. I picked a few flowers for Mama and she showered affection on me, telling me I was her most beautiful boy. He didn’t like the compliments and skewered me with a dull knife. His mistake, though. Mama could not be torn from my side until I had healed.”
He lowered the shirt and placed his hands on the table. Ash backed away until he was once again at Cate’s side. The knife remained in his hand.
She wanted to reach out and reassure him, but didn’t want to give Benicio any more ammunition. He was already flicking curious gazes between the two of them.
“I’m sorry your brother sucked, but as you said, his death was necessary.”
“And so is my father’s.”
This time Cate couldn’t keep in her gasp.
“This shocks you?” Benicio said with amusement. “You’ve spent a week in Guatana trying to kill him. Surely it cannot come as a surprise that others may want him dead, even his own son. Do you not want him dead for nearly killing your father?”
“You know I do. I’m just trying to understand why a son would want to kill his own father.”
“Because while he still breathes, my own life is in danger. And as much as I love my mother, I love myself more. So this is my deal—I lead you to my father and you kill him. That is what you Americans call a win-win, correct?”
He slouched back, looking satisfied.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Of course, you’ll have to come back to Guatana with me.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s the only way I’ll be able to get back into my father’s good graces, if I tell him I’ve captured you for him. He would not agree to meet otherwise. As I said, he likes fiery women and he’s anxious to get his hands on you.”
Cate didn’t miss Ash’s reaction to that. If the man turned any stiffer, he’d crack like a sheet of ice.
She had no idea how he managed to hold his tongue. If the situation were reversed and Ash were the one being threatened, Cate would’ve been on Benicio in a heartbeat. But Ash didn’t move a muscle. He remained the silent guard at her back, never once trying to make her look weak or unqualified in front of Benicio, even though Cate felt completely out of her depth.
“Well?” Benicio prompted. “Do we have a deal?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Ash, Liam, and Sully. All three men offered barely perceptible nods, and then Ash leaned over and placed a burner phone on the table.
“Call your father,” Cate told him. “Set up the exchange.”
Benicio didn’t hesitate. “How long will you need to sufficiently prepare?”
Ash answered in a cold voice. “Today, tomorrow. It doesn’t matter so long as it’s soon.”
“All right.” Taking a breath, Benicio picked up the phone and dialed a number. He put the call on speakerphone so they could all hear what was being said.
It took six rings before a sharp male voice came out of the speaker. “Yes?”
Rivera’s son leaned forward. “It’s Benicio. I’d like to speak with my father.”
“Where are you?” was the suspicious reply.
“In the States. I have something my father wants. He will want to talk to me.”
“One minute.”
It took longer than that. At least five minutes passed before a familiar voice filled the room.
“Benicio, where are you?” Mateo Rivera barked.
“I am in the States. Boston, to be precise. It’s a sad city, Father. Very drab. You wouldn’t like it.”
“You should return home. I told you I didn’t want you going anywhere.”
“I know.” Benicio paused. “But I had to do this.”
“Do what?” Rivera’s tone hardened with disapproval. “What have you done, Benicio?”
Cate didn’t miss the way Benicio’s face darkened at the implication that he’d done something wrong. She knew from her conversations with Rivera Senior that the man thought his son was a fuckup, and though she didn’t want to feel sympathy for anyone whose last name started with R and ended with IVERA, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the young man across the table.
“For once, I’ve done something you’re going to like,” Benicio told his father, a trace of bitterness in his voice.
Rivera snorted. “Somehow I doubt that. But I’m willing to entertain this. Go on, tell me.”
Benicio paused, long and measured. Cate had a feeling he was going for dramatic effect.
“I have Catarina Morgan,” he announced.
Silence.
“Father, did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” Rivera said coldly. “I don’t, however, believe you.”
“I have proof,” his son protested.
A chuckle echoed in the air. “Oh, you do, do you? By all means, let’s see this proof.”
“One moment.” Benicio covered the mouthpiece and sent an imploring look to Ash. “We need to make it sound real,” he murmured, his voice barely over a whisper. “You must hurt her.”
Cate hardly had time to blink, let alone process the absurdity of that statement. One minute she was sitting down. The next, strong fingers were thrust in her hair, yanking the long strands hard enough to make her cry out
in pain.
“That fucking hurt!” she roared, glaring up at Ash.
He pressed one finger to his lips while his other hand released her, and she suddenly realized that Benicio had uncovered the mouthpiece.
There was a loud hitch of breath over the line. “Is that you, little one?”
Cate never thought of herself as much of an actress but she happened to be damn good under pressure. As Benicio eyed her expectantly, she leaned toward the phone and hissed, “Fuck you! And fuck your stupid son! If he lays a hand on me again, I’m going to rip his balls off and—”
“That’s enough,” Benicio snapped. “One moment, Father. I’m gagging the bitch again.”
Cate’s peripheral vision caught Ash glaring at Benicio for calling her a bitch. She turned to see him stroking a thumb across the blade of the knife that he still hadn’t sheathed.
“She’s not a very nice girl,” Benicio remarked.
There was another silence. “Why have you done this?” Rivera asked his son. “What do you want?”
“A chance, Father. A chance to prove that I am worthy. Isn’t that what your goal was?”
More silence.
“Father?”
Rivera’s steady breathing filled Cate’s ears.
“Father?” Benicio said again.
“Bring her.”
Cate’s gaze flew to Ash, who offered a grim look in return.
“Where?” Benicio said eagerly.
“Salana. Tomorrow at noon.”
The call disconnected, leaving Cate slightly stunned.
Benicio slid the phone back across the table. “Tomorrow. I assume that’s not a problem for you?”
“Tomorrow,” she echoed before unsteadily rising to her feet.
When Ash took her arm, she gratefully leaned against him, needing his strength. A part of her hadn’t believed Rivera would actually agree to this. She shook her head, dazed, as Ash guided her to the door.
“I want your agreement!” Benicio cried out from behind them. “I’m upholding my end of our bargain. I need to know you’re going to uphold yours!”
Ash propelled Cate through the door without a response. In the hall, they were joined by Sully, Liam, Liam’s devastatingly handsome brothers, and the strange cop who for some reason was still lurking about.
“Are we really going to do this?” she asked.
“It’s probably a trap,” Ash answered, his uneasiness written all over his face.
“Probably,” Sully agreed.
“More than probably,” Liam said lightly.
Cate glanced from one man to the next. “But are we going to do it?”
“It’s your call, sugar.” Ash’s response sounded like it was being dragged out of him by a thousand horses.
She bit the inside of her cheek, her gaze dropping to her feet. God. She did not want to make this decision. But at the same time, she’d always known that it would come down to her. This whole mess had begun with her, and it was fitting, in a strange and horrible way, that she would see it through to the end.
“Cate?” Ash prompted. “Are we doing this?”
With a tired breath, she lifted her head and met his eyes. “I think we don’t have a choice.”
* * *
As expected, Morgan was livid when he was informed of the plan. With each shouted obscenity that blared out of the phone, Sullivan found himself cringing, and he thanked the lord above that he hadn’t been given the task of telling the boss.
He, Liam, and Ash had been about to draw straws to see who would be losing his balls, but Cate proved she had bigger balls than the three of them combined because she’d picked up the phone and called Morgan herself.
Although Sullivan had never felt comfortable using one of his people as bait, Cate was adamant and there was no talking her out of it. When Liam suggested using Isabel or Juliet to pretend to be her, Cate insisted that Rivera wouldn’t fall for a decoy. Ash had reluctantly backed her up on that, and even Sully had to admit that a decoy ploy worked only about half the time.
Cate would need to be at that village. In person. Anything less than that and Rivera wouldn’t dare to show his face.
Now all that was left to do was hop on a plane to Guatana and carry out this crazy plan. Sully didn’t particularly trust Benicio Rivera but at this point they didn’t have many other options.
Since they were heading out soon, he went looking for a bathroom, ducking his head into various doorways before he found one. He took a leak and washed his hands, just shutting off the tap when he heard voices in the hall.
“Got a sec?”
He froze. That low baritone belonged to none other than Detective Conley.
A frown marred his mouth when he heard Liam respond.
“Not really.”
There was a quiet chuckle. “I know you’re in a hurry to jet, but what, you can’t spare five minutes? Not even for me?”
The intimate note in Conley’s voice had Sully’s hands clenching into fists. He resisted the urge to slam both into the door. Instead, he crept closer. He didn’t typically make a habit out of eavesdropping but he was dying to know more about Conley. Or rather, more about Conley’s history with Liam.
“No, I’ve got time for you.”
Sully bristled. Like hell he did. They needed to get to the airport. What was Liam doing, making small talk with this man? This Boston fuck with his stupid Boston badge and his dumb Boston accent.
“I miss you,” Conley said gruffly.
Oh hell. This wasn’t small talk. It was big talk. It was gi-fucking-gantic talk.
“I know you don’t like to do the whole heart-to-heart bullshit,” Conley hurried on. “Normally I don’t either, but”—a pause—“Kev said you and Penny broke up.”
“We did.”
“Did you end it or was it her?”
“Her, but it was mutual.”
“Ah. Okay.” Conley stopped again. “Liam . . . I’ve been miserable this year. No—don’t say anything. Please just let me finish. I know I scared you off by trying to get too serious, too fast. You weren’t ready. And I blame myself for you calling it off. I drove you away when I asked you to move in with me.”
Sully’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. The motherfucker had asked Liam to move in with him?
Oh. Hell. No.
He inhaled through his nose. The air burned his nostrils, seared his throat. He wasn’t sure where all this rage was coming from. Jealousy, sure, he understood that. But this red-hot fury boiling in his gut caught him off guard. He was two seconds from Hulking out and smashing right through the bathroom door.
“This last year, I kept thinking back to our relationship and I realized that I was offering you something I couldn’t even give you at the time.” Conley gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I wanted you to move in, and yet my plan was to tell Kev and our families and my coworkers that we were roommates, that you were just crashing in the guest bedroom. That was fuckin’ stupid of me. No, it was unfair.”
Liam sighed audibly. “I get it, man. Of course you couldn’t go public. You have your career to think about, right? I mean, even with all these new PC initiatives and non-discrimination policies, it isn’t easy being a gay cop in Boston. Especially in Southie.”
“No, it isn’t. And last year I wouldn’t have even considered coming out to the department. Or telling my family—Christ, you know what homophobic fucks my folks are. I’ve been living in the closet my whole life. I would’ve been content to stay there forever.” He stopped. “But not anymore.”
Sully’s jaw tightened.
“Joe . . .”
“Let me finish.” Conley cleared his throat. “I spent this entire year missing you. I went out with a few guys, and none of them were you. And that made me realize . . .”
Don’t say it, Sully warned silently
.
“I’m . . .”
Don’t say it.
“I’m in love with you.”
Bloody hell.
The wave of outrage almost knocked him on his ass. His pulse thudded in his ears, making him miss whatever Liam said. But he heard Conley’s next sentence loud and clear.
“If you want to give it another go, I won’t be pulling any punches this time. I’m all in, babe.”
Babe?
“I’ll tell the captain, the department. We can tell our families together. Just . . .” A heavy breath sounded behind the door. “It’s rare for me to connect with someone, you know? And I never expected it to be Kev’s little brother. But then you moved back to town . . .” His voice grew so soft that Sullivan began to miss words. “. . . beers . . . St. Patty’s Day . . . and we went . . . and then that first night . . .”
An eddy of emotion slashed violently in Sullivan’s body. Jealousy. Anger. And now there was a strange sting in his eyes, like he was going to bloody cry or some shit.
What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he care if this cop professed his love to Liam? He couldn’t be with Liam. He couldn’t be with anyone.
When Evangeline died, she’d taken his heart and soul with her. In the years that followed, he’d fucked every woman and man who crossed his path. He hadn’t given a shit about anyone. Still didn’t.
So why did the thought of Liam giving Conley another chance send a jolt of panic through him?
“Joe . . .”
The other man cut Liam off. “Tell me you’ll give it another shot. Penny’s not in the picture anymore, so what’s stopping us? We can start over. Be a real couple.”
Liam sounded slightly stunned. “You know how much shit you’ll get at work, Joey? If you come out, you’re bound to get harassed by some of the other boys in blue.”
“I don’t give a shit. They can harass me all they want during the day as long as I’m coming home to you every night. A man like you doesn’t come along every day. I’ll risk anything for you.”
“Joe.” Soft and gentle now.
Sullivan’s throat ached, because he knew what Liam was about to say. And despite his overwhelming jealousy, despite the fact that he wanted to punch Detective Joe Conley in his chiseled Marlboro Man face, Conley seemed like a decent guy. Like someone who might actually be worthy of Liam. Someone who was willing to risk his career, his relationship with his family and his friends, just so he could come home to Liam Macgregor.