Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Cole considered him for a nerve-wracking minute before lowering his head in his hands and exhaling. “Okay.”
Hope surged. “Okay?”
“You’re a stubborn asshole.” Cole lifted his eyes. “If I don’t help you, you’ll go anyway, and I’ll have your moronic death weighing on my conscience.”
“Good man.” Tate clapped him on the back and lowered onto the couch beside him. “For the record, I think she picked the wrong guy.” He motioned toward the tattoo on Cole’s arm.
Cole looked down, his eyes stark and unblinking as he traced the inked silhouette of the woman, his finger gliding with reverence and longing. He seemed to forget himself in that private moment, his gaze turning inward and the hard lines of his jaw softening.
Then, like a flip of a switch, he curled his hand into a fist and snapped his spine straight. “Do you think this thing with Lucia will give you what you need to finish your tattoo?”
Startled, Tate glanced at his own ink. How did Cole know it wasn’t finished?
Roses of various sizes and blooms sleeved his arm in shades of black and gray. His mother’s name had been Rose, but each flower on his skin represented the women who had helped raise him at The Velvet Den. They might’ve been whores, but they were also his friends. His only family.
The cluster of roses stretched above his elbow and faded away. The artwork was supposed to blur into another image across his bicep—the profile of a woman. He always imagined Camila’s face would complete the design, but she didn’t belong to him.
As he stared at the blank space on his bicep, he knew Josh and Kate were watching him, waiting for him to answer Cole’s question. Will I have what I need to finish it? Will I have someone to call my own? He wanted Camila, and that dream was unattainable.
“No. The tattoo is finished.”
Cole rubbed the stubble on his cheek, studying Tate with those perceptive eyes. Then he looked back at the laptop and sighed. “The apartment in Caracas is paid through the end of the month. I’ll extend the lease for another month, get you into the neighborhood, train you on basic self-defense, and walk you through Lucia’s patterns. After that, you’re on your own.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t like this.” Josh lowered into the chair, perching on the edge. “Can you hire a security guard to go with you?”
“Maybe.” Tate didn’t know how much money he’d have left after he paid Cole for the help, but he’d figure it out. He turned to Cole. “Do you have more photos of her?”
“Hundreds.”
For the next hour, Tate scoured the images on Cole’s laptop, memorizing every expression, gesture, and article of clothing that belonged to Lucia Dias. Cole showed him blueprints of Badell’s compound, but other than the windowless concrete room in the video, there were no pictures of the interior. Cole hadn’t tried to breach the iron gates because that level of intel hadn’t been included in the finder fee.
As they ironed out an action plan, they decided to leave in a week. That would give Cole time to train Tate on basic weaponry and self-defense.
Liv eventually emerged from the bedroom, and about five minutes later, someone knocked on the door.
Tate pulled his attention from the laptop as Josh greeted whoever was on the porch.
“Hey.” Confusion threaded through Josh’s voice. “I didn’t expect you guys tonight.”
“I called him.” Liv approached the door, opening it wider to reveal Van Quiso and his wife, Amber.
Kate, who had her nose in her phone for the last hour, shot from the couch. Shoulders hunching, she fumbled with her purse on the coffee table. “I need to…” She made a beeline to the door. “I’m gonna go.”
“Kate.” Josh moved to chase her.
“Let her go.” Tate cast a glare at Van. “She needs time.”
“She’s had four years.” With a grip on Amber’s hand, Van approached the couch with a casual gait, his gaze clapping onto Tate. “I don’t think time is what she needs.”
Probably not, but Van’s dark baleful presence wasn’t a cure for any of them.
Tate sent off a text to his roommates, letting them know Kate left Liv’s house. They would find her if she didn’t head home.
Cole stood from the couch and extended a hand to Van. “It’s good to finally meet you in person.”
“Same.” Van shook his hand and introduced his wife.
Tate could guess why Liv called Van here, but before he asked, he had another question.
“How do you know each other?” He gestured between Van and Cole.
“Traquero.” Van pulled a toothpick from his pocket and cut his eyes at Liv and Josh.
“What did you say?” Josh whispered, the blood draining from his face.
Traquero? The name was familiar, but Tate couldn’t place it. “Is that…?”
“The misogynist prick who was supposed to buy Josh.” Liv crossed the room, pausing in front of Van.