Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“You were always so captivating—the first flavor I learned without a recipe,” he murmurs. “You and your fear, you and your stubbornness. You were like a curse. A captivating curse.” He closes his eyes, breathes deeply. “Do you remember the pantry? How you shook and still held my gaze? I’ve never forgotten that. I won’t forget you today.”
I let my face be stone. Inside, everything is moving. Belinda on a bus. A bomb on that bus.
I know him. And he knows me. He banked on me walking into the dark for the child I love.
He was right.
“Sit,” he says again, opening his eyes. “We will eat. Then we will discuss dessert.”
I hold his eyes and think of the knife.
Not yet.
I’m going to be exactly what he taught me to be in the kitchen—precise, patient, and lethal.
37
HAWK
Vinnie’s phone buzzes.
He wrinkles his forehead. “It’s security at the gate.” He picks up the phone. “This is Vinnie Gallo.”
Pause.
His eyes go wide. “Fuck, yes! Let them through.” He turns to me. “It’s Belinda. It’s Belinda!”
I’m on my feet before I even register the movement. The chair topples behind me. My pulse is already a freight train in my ears by the time I reach the foyer. Vinnie beats me there, because of course he does. It’s his house, his security system, his turf. He throws open the door just as a car rolls up.
Belinda emerges from the backseat.
“Belinda,” he breathes. His voice cracks in the middle.
And there she is.
Messy hair, pale face, clothes rumpled like she’s been sleeping in them for days.
But it’s her.
Alive. Breathing. Running toward the house like nothing in the world makes sense anymore.
Vinnie doesn’t even hesitate. He scoops her up, crushing her to his chest. “Thank God,” he mutters into her hair. “Thank God you’re home.”
For a moment I can’t move. I’m too stunned by the sight. Relief punches through me so hard it almost knocks me over.
But there’s something wrong about the timing. My brain starts doing math automatically, the same way it does when something doesn’t add up on a crime scene.
Too soon.
Way too soon.
Daniela was still on the highway when her phone went into airplane mode. She would have probably just gotten…
Fuck.
If Belinda’s already here, that means the chef’s part of the bargain has already been fulfilled…
Or maybe it’s something else entirely.
I force my legs to move, step forward into the doorway. “Belinda.”
“Hi,” she says, her voice trembling.
“Come inside,” I tell her gently. “You’re safe now.”
Vinnie ushers her in and sits her on the couch. She perches on the edge, twisting her hands in her lap. She looks small, younger than I remember. Raven hurries down from the second floor, clutching a blanket, and wraps it around Belinda’s shoulders.
Vinnie crouches in front of her. “Sweetheart, can you tell us what happened? Where were you?”
She swallows, her gaze unfixed. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I—”
Vinnie quiets her with a hand to her arm. “It’s not your fault. Just tell us what happened. Where were you?”
She draws in a deep breath. “I was in this house, I guess? Like a cabin, but really old. It smelled like dust and metal.”
I exchange a look with Vinnie. “Did anyone hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No. They didn’t touch me. I promise.”
“They?” I ask.
Belinda frowns, thinking. “Two men. One of them had dark hair, and he kept calling the other one ‘Chef.’ The second one… He talked funny.”
My gut goes cold. “Did one of them look like this?”
I pull up Reyes’s photo on my phone and hold it out. She hesitates for half a second but then nods. “That’s him. The one who called the other one ‘Chef.’”
“Reyes,” I mutter. The name burns in my throat. “Son of a bitch.”
Belinda keeps talking, her voice trembling but her words clear. “They didn’t really talk to me much. They gave me water, and crackers, and said I’d be going home soon. This morning, one of them woke me up really early and told me to get ready. He took me to a bus stop. He said I was going home, and that someone would make sure I got there safely.”
Vinnie leans forward. “Who was that someone?”
“A nice man at the station,” she says. “He helped me get on the bus. He said someone had paid for my ticket already. When I got to the bus station in town, he was there again—same guy—and he called an Uber for me. He said he wanted to make sure I got home safe.”
My stomach drops. “Did he say who sent him?”
She shakes her head. “No. But when he called the Uber, I saw the name pop up on the app. It said ‘Daniel R.’”
Vinnie’s eyes narrow. “Daniel R. Got it.” He stands, fishing his keys out of his pocket. “If the driver just dropped her off, I might be able to catch him before he leaves.”