Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(78)

“We all have choices.”

“Then you and I are not the same. Who are you, anyway? Why does any of this matter?”

“Who I am is immaterial. Finish your story.”

Confess your sins.

Juan hesitated a moment before continuing. “It was all very simple, he said. We would leave, run an errand, and when we came back, we would find the house ransacked. He told us Luna would be gone, that there would be nothing left of her. I-I,” Juan stammered, emotion clogging his throat, “didn’t think it through. I didn’t understand it all.”

“But you agreed all the same …”

Juan hung his head in shame. “I agreed. We called la policía—we did everything we were supposed to. I didn’t have to pretend to grieve when we were being filmed for the news report, I was grieving. I realized too late the mistake I had made—I couldn’t change my mind. Days later, whispers of the Contreras Cartel being responsible made the rounds. They were well known for trafficking, young girls like my Luna were always going missing—they assumed she was just one of many.”

Juan took a breath, placing a fresh cigarette between his lips as he felt around his pockets for a lighter. Kit pulled his own from his pocket, igniting the flame as he held it up for the man.

He wasn’t one to smoke—the habit didn’t agree with him—but he kept a lighter on him for moments like these. Though he was rather methodical when it came to what he did, if requested, he allowed those that crossed them this moment.

The last cigarette.

“Carmen became this activist—this warrior against the trafficking of young girls. As he had said, many were willing to stand behind her. Though most had children, even if they didn’t, at one time they had felt the unforgiving hand of the cartels.”

Kit may have hated what he was hearing, but the cold, logical side of him understood Uilleam’s intention. If you put enough support behind a person, they had the potential to do more than a person would all the money in the world.

“He told us it was quick,” Juan went on, not noticing Kit’s musing. “That she didn’t suffer—I didn’t feel as guilty then.”

“When?”

“What?”

“When did he tell you that it was quick?”

“A couple of weeks after, just before Carmen got the call.”

That didn’t make sense.

Why would Uilleam lie?

It didn’t matter at the moment, Kit would find out soon enough. “And where are they now? Carmen and the other daughter?” Kit made a show of looking around the room. “They’re certainly not here.”

“They moved away, somewhere far from here. She got a better offer from another man.”

He had the gall to look hurt. “D’you expect to inspire sympathy within me?” he asked with a shake of his head. “If you’re looking, you won’t find any in me.”

“Why does this matter now? Why are you here?”

“I came for Luna.”

Those words were partially true.

“Is this my punishment then? He sends you to take care of another job for Carmen—the last little flaw in the life she’s trying to forget?”

“Almost five years to the day, the Kingmaker too came to me with a proposition. He asked that I take a girl into my home. Could you guess who that girl was?”

When Kit didn’t get his answer right away, he pulled the gun from his belt, and the silencer from the pocket of his trousers. Slowly, methodically, he twisted it into place.

“Go ahead and guess.”

“He told us she was dead.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kit said. “You shouldn’t have given her up in the first place.”

There were tears in Juan’s eyes as he sniffled. “Who are—”

“Her husband.”

His gaze flickered down to the gun in Kit’s hand. “What kind of man are you that you would murder her father?”

“The kind that won’t feel any remorse.”

Kit aimed and fired, plugging a bullet into the man’s chest, closer to his shoulder. He didn’t want to hit his heart, not yet.

“Luna believes that her family was spared, that perhaps you all wait for her return with hope in your hearts—she doesn’t know about the greed.” Kit pressed the smoking silencer against the man’s wound where blood seeped. He cried out in pain, but Kit ignored him. “And if I can help it, she’ll never know.”

She didn’t deserve more pain.

Though he generally hated false illusions, for once he was willing to sacrifice his own code—he hated to see her in pain.

“She was spared?” Juan asked, despite the pain he was in. “She’s—”

“No longer your concern.”

“Then if you’ve come to kill me, get it over with.”

Kit raised his gun once more, intending to do just that, but before he could, Juan spoke once more.

“What would you have done?” he asked, almost desperately. “He offers a deal or death? What choice did I have? You would have done the same thing!”

Kit shook his head, shifting his aim to the man’s forehead. “You should have died. When it comes down to your life, or the one you love, you face death with a smile. Luna deserved better than you.”