Dead Drop (The Guild #2)(23)



“Well…” I paused, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. “I mean, I would have been inclined to say that I’m sorry and I feel awful for having deceived you so thoroughly. But then I consider the fact that you were perfectly happy to have me abducted, drugged, imprisoned, beaten, tortured, and sexually assaulted. So really, when you put things in perspective, Moana, who should be apologizing to whom in this scenario, hmm?”

The silence was deafening.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I muttered, irritated. I did feel bad for tricking her, and that annoyed me more than anything. She was the one in the wrong between us, not me. “So are you going to help me or not?”

Mo didn’t respond immediately. Then she made a small huff. “I really don’t know you at all, do I? You’re a totally different person to the woman I made friends with.”

I snorted a laugh. “Cry me a river, Moana. It’s my job. Now answer my question, are you going to help or am I wasting my fucking time on this call? I know you’re not tracing my location, I’m not that fucking green.” Only newbies and idiots let themselves be GPS-tracked on mobile signal. Besides, I was still at thirty thousand feet.

“Fine,” she muttered, right when I thought the answer would be no. “You provided a valid point about who owes who an apology.” It sounded like she was gritting her teeth, but a small wave of relief washed over me.

“Good,” I snapped. “I’m about an hour from landing in Seattle. I’ll send you a location we can meet at, just let me know how soon you can get to this side of the world.”

“I’m already in the States,” she admitted. “Depending how remote we’re talking, I could be there this evening, I guess.”

Curious. Why was she in America? Then again, there were a lot of criminals hiding out or seeking asylum in the neutral gang territories ruled by Hades. It was like gangster Fiji. Bars, clubs, and hotels where they could let their hair down, safe in the knowledge that inter-gang violence was strictly prohibited and rule breakers swiftly punished. It stood to reason Ares, the infamous arms dealer, would have a lot of clients in this area.

“I’ll text the address,” I told her. “But Mo? Do not, under any circumstances, bring your team with you. This is you and me, no one else. Am I clear?”

She didn’t respond, and my jaw tightened.

“Do you understand me?” I growled out, my voice hard-edged and angry. “My forgiveness ran out the moment I escaped your fucking island. I lay eyes on any of your team, they’re dead. Are we clear?”

“Even Kai?” she asked, her voice cold. “Will you kill him this time?”

Would I? I wanted to say yes, but I wasn’t so sure. He’d gotten under my skin too deeply.

“Try it and find out, Mo. Don’t fucking say you weren’t warned.” I ended the call before I could give her any reason to doubt my resolve. Because despite how it might seem, I wasn’t calling him for help. I called Mo because she was just as capable, just as connected, and that necklace wasn’t masculine. For all I knew, it was Moana’s and she was the one connected to the Guild.

Also, I still wasn’t strong enough to face him. I’d have to kill him, otherwise I risked letting him rip out another chunk of my heart. And how many more pieces could I survive without?

With impeccable timing, my phone vibrated an incoming message.

6279: I can’t stop thinking about you, DeLuna. Every time I shoot someone, I think about how sexy my gun looked in your hand while I fucked you. How hot it was when you shot that idiot. Where are you now?

My breath caught in my throat, and I bit my lip. Shit, Leon knew exactly how to get my mind off Kai.

3982: I wish I could tell you, but someone said not to trust the Guild

I grinned as I waited for his reply. There wasn’t enough time now, we were about to land, but maybe later when I was secure, I could video call Leon. I bet he’d secretly love that, even if he had told me not to use my Purple Pussy Eater without permission.

6279: Sounds like wise advice. Watch your back, mon cœur, I’ll find you soon.

Once again, I couldn’t decide if it was a threat or a promise. Or both. Either way, it made me turn to mush, and my pulse galloped. He was certifiable, there was no debating this fact. But goddamn, there was just something about a man who killed for his woman without question…

That picture of Bryan’s severed fingers was one of the most romantic gestures I’d ever received. Right up there with the moment when Kai returned my silver watch to me, thinking it belonged to my fictional grandmother.

Of course, Kai had soured that memory by planting a tracking device of his own in the mechanism. Leon’s gesture was totally without ulterior motive, except to send a clear message that I was his, and he wouldn’t tolerate anyone hurting me. Damn butterflies.

Once my jet landed, I hired a nondescript rental car using one of my many aliases and drove for the rest of the day. Ensuring no one had tailed me required a whole lot of zig-zagging, backtracking, and generally driving in circles. At least the patches of snow still visible off the road hadn’t turned to ice. That was something. But eventually I arrived at the remote mountain cabin I’d booked using a dark website specifically offering safe houses to anyone with the money to pay, no questions asked.

The access protocols were extreme, starting from an armed gate a solid mile before the house. Hestia Safe Houses didn’t fuck around when hiding criminals and shady characters, that was for sure. It was exactly what I needed, so I wasn’t complaining.

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