Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(53)
Maldonado broke into laughter.
“I’m impressed, Alex. Finally a woman with looks and brains. Where are you seated? I’m sure we can rearrange the setting to include you,” Exxum said, throwing a glance to one of his associates, who flagged someone of the staff. “Joaquín is at the same table.”
Nico parked the car and, taking in a deep breath of cold air, walked toward the hotel where Maldonado was attending a fund-raiser for abandoned dogs. What he was doing there, Nico had no clue, because his employer couldn’t give two f*cks about animals, abandoned or otherwise, much less travel to the other end of the country to spend a whopping ten grand on a vegan diner.
Either way he was glad for the reprieve, short as it might be. Boston was a welcome change of scenery, seeing as how he spent most of his time in the Caribbean or in the jungle overseeing the labs.
Florida was bad enough; Hawaii on top of that had been overkill. Next vacation he had, he was taking his Russian ass to Murmansk.
It was a stroke of luck that Maldonado was in Boston, because as fate would have it, the person they were searching for was from there. After Donald, all he had to do was go online to several professional directories and people-finder apps and bada bing, bada boom, in two seconds flat he’d found an Elle Cooper in the BU student directory who resembled Marlene. An Elle Cooper who had been enrolled in UF for a year a while back, and who had worked for the same airline as Marlene. Once sure he had the right girl, it had been a matter of going to Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Man, people had no clue what they were doing when they uploaded all of their lives. How exposed they were. How easily they could become prey. He’d get accounts on those social media networking programs as soon as f*cking never.
By the time the plane had landed at Logan, he had all the info he needed and more. Where she lived, worked. What she liked and didn’t. Her hobbies. Who she socialized with. What she’d had for breakfast, for Christ’s sake.
He hadn’t needed to do any recon in person. Go through the phone directory, one Elle Cooper at a time and pay each of them a visit, like in the olden days. Nope. The Internet sped everything up, criminal enterprises included.
He entered the hotel, a copy of her driving license in his pocket. Now all he had to do was find Maldonado.
Jesus Christ. As if being forced to mingle with Maldonado and Exxum at a fund-raiser wasn’t bad enough, now they were being maneuvered into sharing table with them.
Fuck, no. No way in hell. Before he could make a mess out of things, Elle intervened.
“It would be lovely to dine at your table, but I’m not feeling too well,” she hastened to explain. “Alex is taking me home.”
“I have the top floor reserved,” Exxum insisted. “You could go lie down for a while and then join us here.”
“I don’t think so,” Jack answered curtly. “Gentlemen.”
Without giving them a chance to reply, Jack directed her toward the door with a hand on the small of her back, doing his damnedest to keep his stride even and not break into a run.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What the hell was he doing? Humoring Elle and letting her continue with her life as if nothing had happened? Tagging along happily, his cock at the ready? Lowering his guard and groping her in the car, in the open? Moron. If he had been more alert, he would have noticed the fund-raiser and they wouldn’t have been blindsided.
As they made their way to the lobby, Jack saw a blond guy amid the crowd, scanning the premises. That was Nico Grabar, Maldonado’s second in command. Almost in front of them. Fuck He hadn’t spotted them yet, but it was a matter of a second or two. Jack spun Elle around and kissed her, turning his back to Nico and hovering over Elle, covering her as much as possible.
Nico looked at them and then took a second glance, frowning. Holding his breath, Jack waited for the man to pass.
Once out of the hotel, he ran with Elle to the truck.
“…you listening to me?” Elle’s angry words finally computed as he turned the engine on.
Based on her expression, she’d been trying to get his attention for a while.
Well, tough shit. He wasn’t listening to her. She messed with his head. Both his heads. And he’d start making decisions with the wrong one. First piece of evidence, this whole clusterf*ck.
He was supposed to keep her out of harm’s way, and instead, he’d almost delivered her to Maldonado on a silver platter.
“What exactly happened in there? Who the hell are you?”
He wasn’t going to answer. The less she knew, the better.
“Why didn’t you tell me that Maldonado knew you?” she demanded. “And what’s Maldonado doing in Boston?”
Excellent question. And why he didn’t get a heads-up from Mullen, he didn’t know. But he was going to find out.
His silence was infuriating her. She was seething; he could see it. And the more her questions went unanswered, the worse it got.
“Who. Is. Alex?” she asked, punctuating every word.
He continued ignoring her while he sped onto the highway, the force throwing her against the window. At least his brain hadn’t melted down totally and he still kept a stash of supplies in his truck in case he had to disappear. Good, because he was done playing house. Time to do what he should have done from the very beginning and cut the shit out.
“Where are we going? Talk to me, dammit!” she all but yelled.