Cade studied her, too stunned to do anything else. She really had thought the whole thing through. There was no doubting it. This had been a suicide mission. She’d come here fully expecting to die, and had done so willingly, to save her sister. No, it hadn’t just been willing. She’d been desperate to do so, fighting tooth and nail and doing whatever it took to get to a rendezvous where she thought she would die.
She had to understand the enormity of the sacrifice she’d been willing to make. Yet there was no sign of it on her face—no pride, no regret, no misgivings. Just simple straightforwardness, as though it was clear what she’d had to do, as though it were nothing at all.
Maybe it was to her.
He tried to think of anyone he’d ever known who would have been willing to do that for him. Not his father, who’d never wanted a kid in the first place and only cared about what he could find at the bottom of the nearest bottle. Certainly not his mother, who’d walked out on them when he was a boy. Not Caitlin, the one person he thought he would have been willing to do anything for—yeah, probably even die—who’d walked out on him, too. There was Matt Alvarez, his right-hand man on the ranch and the closest thing he had to a friend in this world, but he didn’t know if Alvarez would be willing to make such a colossal sacrifice, and frankly, Cade wouldn’t expect him to.
He wondered what this sister of hers was like, wondered if she was worthy of the sacrifice this woman had been willing to make. Obviously Piper Lowry thought so.
It suddenly struck him that he was just standing there, staring at the woman in front of him. He cleared his throat, his anger gone, replaced by an emotion he couldn’t really name. Any doubts he’d had about her story were gone now. It was far too detailed and she’d related it so unwaveringly she certainly hadn’t been making it up on the spot. All that remained was the question of what to do now.
Only one answer came to mind, one he wasn’t happy with. But it seemed he didn’t have a choice any more than she thought she had.
“Come on,” he said roughly. “Let’s get out of here.”
She frowned. “Where are we going? Back to my car?”
“No. My ranch isn’t far from here. It’ll be safer there. We can figure out what to do next.”
“‘We’?” she echoed faintly. “Why would you want to help me?”
It was a good question, one he would have asked if he were in her shoes, one he was still asking himself.
He gave the only answer he could. “Because somebody needs to.”
He damn well wished it wasn’t him. If he had a brain in his head, it wouldn’t be. A smart man would get away from this woman and her mess as fast as humanly possible.
But it seemed he wasn’t that smart. And like it or not—and he sure as heck did not—it looked like he was all she had.
Chapter Five
Esteban Castillo stood at the window of the bedroom he’d commandeered as his own and stared out at the vast landscape behind the house. It was a view he’d contemplated often since his arrival, enough that he seemed to have every inch of it committed to memory. When he’d left the house earlier that afternoon, he’d thought he’d seen the last of it. But here he was again, exactly where he’d been before.
This part of the plan should have been completed. He should have the information he needed, be on his way to carrying out the next step, to finishing this matter once and for all. Instead, the vengeance he’d vowed so long ago had been delayed again.
Impatience churned in his gut, the feeling unusual. He was a man who knew the importance of patience. He’d pulled himself out of poverty, built his businesses, made his fortune by knowing how to bide his time when necessary, knowing how to wait, knowing exactly when he should act.
The skill he’d carefully cultivated over the years seemed to be failing him now. But then, this wasn’t business. This was very personal.
This was family.
The mere thought of the word sent a sharp pain through him; the feeling quickly burned away by the rage that followed closely behind it. He had no family, not anymore. He’d had only one son. He’d certainly never planned it to be that way, but it was the sole instance where his patience was not rewarded. Ricardo had been weak, soft, too much like his mother in many ways. But he’d been his blood, his legacy.
As such, Castillo had tried to make a place for him in his business, though it was clear Ricardo would never rise to take his place at the top. But Ricardo had had his father’s pride, and that hadn’t been good enough for him. He had come to the United States to make his own name out from the shadow of his father, create his own business, prove himself worthy. Castillo had respected that, though he’d doubted Ricardo would find much success. Truth be told, it was the most he had ever respected his son.
And now Ricardo was gone. Dead. Murdered. His killer unpunished.
But not for long.
Resolve hardened in his belly, making his insides clench.
No, not for long. He was closer than ever before. The delay was temporary, that was all.
Drawing a deep breath, he surveyed the desert scene and tried to let the peacefulness of it sink into his soul.When he’d purchased this property, it hadn’t been for the view. It had been for purely business purposes. The land was located in a strategic location, isolated yet near enough to the border to make a good place for the merchandise he had coming into and out of this country to pass through.
He’d never expected himself to be one of those things passing through this location, never thought he’d lay eyes on it in person. But the property had proven ideal for his current purposes, as well.
No one knew he was in this country, and no one would. As soon as this business was completed, he would slip back out of the United States as easily as he’d slipped into it.
But first he needed the Lowry woman to deliver.
He’d been able to tell from the hysteria in the woman’s voice that she hadn’t been lying or acting. Someone truly had shot at her to prevent her from delivering the information to him. The only positive aspect of this turn of events was that it proved there was something to hide about Ricardo’s death, something someone would stop at nothing to keep hidden. It was why the Lowry woman had had her first accident, why they had tried to stop her again.
A tentative knock at the door behind him pulled him out of his thoughts. “Enter,” he said without turning to see who it was.
The door softly slid open. “Do you need anything?” a voice asked moments later. Diaz.
“No,” he said simply. “The girl is secure?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She meant too much to the success of this mission. He knew some of the men would have enjoyed having their time with her if he’d allowed it, had seen the lust in their eyes. In many cases he wouldn’t have opposed such a thing. The girl would have to be killed at the end of this, of course, as would her sister.
But he didn’t want her too hurt or traumatized to speak if he needed to put her on the telephone with her sister to confirm she was alive, something that would likely be the case now that the planned exchange hadn’t happened.
The rage surged anew, searing at his nerve endings as if threatening to burst through his skin. As though he could sense it, Diaz retreated. Castillo heard the door close gently behind him.
So close. He’d been so close to getting what he needed, the name of those responsible for Ricardo’s death.
Clearly someone knew it—how much they had to lose—to go to so much trouble to try and stop her.
But they would not be able to hide that information forever. No matter