“I don’t think that’s a good idea. First, I’m not sure they’ll take you seriously since it looks like she walked out. Second—and more important—she’s someone the Tierra Caliente cartel would love to get their hands on. So if Geraldo Montilla doesn’t already have her, he soon will.”

  Trees snapped an angry glare at his best friend. “Not because he wants her. Only because she’s a direct line to Valeria and Jorge.”

  “I know, but if you want to attract all the wrong kinds of attention, go ahead and advertise that Laila is flapping in the wind. I don’t think it will help her.”

  Zy was fucking right.

  Trees pounded a fist on the table. “Goddamn it!”

  “I know. It sucks. It’s fucking awful. But let’s talk about what we should do. How can I help?”

  Trying not to lose his shit while he waited for his computer to finish, he shook his head at Zy. Hell, Trees barely knew how to help locate Laila. What useful task could he tell his friend to handle? Zy was a demolitions guy. There was nothing to blow up.

  Trees’s heart was already doing that on its own.

  “I don’t know. I don’t…” He tried not to give in to panic. “Something. I don’t fucking know what.”

  “Okay.”

  Zy’s tone was placating, and it rubbed Trees wrong. Irrationally, he knew that. Zy wasn’t the one he should be pissed off at. “Just do…anything.”

  “After I check in with the bosses, I’ll have a conversation with Valeria. She might have some idea where Victor would hole up or take Laila.”

  Actually, that was a great idea, and Trees was kicking himself for not thinking of it. “Yeah. Good. Thanks.”

  “I’ll be back. Call me if you find anything. In the meantime, keep it together. We’re going to find her.”

  Trees sure as hell hoped so. After less than a week with Laila, he had no idea how he’d ever live without her again.

  Yeah, he was so in love he was fucked.

  In the distance, he heard Zy drive off. Trees clung to hope—that his buddy would get Valeria to cough up something helpful, that one of his scans would turn up a needle in a haystack, that they would uncover anything that led them back to Laila.

  Six hours later, he still had nothing because that’s what Valeria knew. That’s what his scans showed. That’s the communications he’d received from Laila’s abductor. That’s how much hope he had left.

  Florida

  “Laila, your scheme isn’t going to work,” Victor snarled as they approached the garage on the outskirts of the racetrack shortly before dawn the following day.

  Her heart stopped. Had Victor already figured out she was playing him? “I do not know what you mean.”

  He huffed. “This scam to take Geraldo Montilla’s Ferrari… If I want to unseat him, stealing his car does nothing except piss him off.”

  She let out a silent sigh of relief that Victor hadn’t caught on to her ploy. “My plan will achieve everything you want while making him come to you—if you do not mismanage this. But in order to take down Montilla, you must first send him—and everyone—a signal that you are a force to be reckoned with. Stealing his most prized possession will do that. After all, he paid fifty million dollars for it.”

  “Fucking insane.” Victor shook his head, as if he could not fathom spending that kind of cash on a mere car.

  “The money for such toys will soon be yours.” If Montilla does not kill you first. “You simply have to find the cojones to take it.”

  “You already know how big my balls are.” He glared her way. “But poking the bear will only make Montilla angrier and more difficult to overthrow.”

  She pretended to heave a long-suffering sigh, but for once, Victor’s logic wasn’t totally wrong. Very little else he’d said since they’d left Trees’s house and driven all night down the highway before finally reaching this Florida racetrack had. At least he’d lived up to his word and kept his hands to himself. She could probably thank the guns she kept constantly at hand for that.

  “Montilla will not recognize the threat until it is far too late. He will fixate on the loss of his precious car. He will devote his resources to recovering it. While he is distracted, you will make your next moves to dominating the cartel.”

  “Using that bargaining chip you keep talking about?”

  “Exactly.” Either Victor would kill Montilla while rescuing Kimber or the Edgingtons would follow him in and handle them both. Either way, her family would be safer.

  Victor merely grunted as if he wasn’t convinced. “I need to know more about it.”

  “After you have stolen the car. The bargaining chip I speak of will be of no use until Montilla’s attention is diverted. Then… Well, you are more ruthless.” That might be true. “And smarter.” But that wasn’t. “You will succeed.”

  In trying to fabricate a supposed plan for Victor to take over Tierra Caliente, she’d read online that the driver Montilla hired for this classic car race yesterday had fallen hours before the start and broken his arm. Montilla had been forced to withdraw his 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO from yesterday’s competition. It seemed likely the drug lord would transport his ridiculously expensive car and fly back to Mexico today, so she and Victor had only this small window of opportunity.

  They tiptoed closer to the garage that housed the prized vehicle. When Victor peeked around the corner of the storage unit, he quickly reared back, plastering himself against the side of the building. “Fuck. There are two armed guards standing outside. We did not plan for that.”

  A problem she hadn’t foreseen…and probably should have. “Are they male?”

  “Yes. And big. I will have to kill them.” He reached for his gun.

  That horrified Laila. The last thing she wanted was for anyone else to be hurt.

  She grabbed Victor’s arm and held him back. “We cannot leave bodies. That will alert the local authorities and bring attention we do not need. Let me handle them. Once they are distracted, you take the car and drive it to the U-Haul. Then it will be yours.”

  He scowled. “You will distract both of them? At once?”

  “How many times did I handle you and Hector together?” she snapped, then wished she’d held her tongue. She didn’t want to remind him of all the times he had violated her. She also didn’t want to remind him of his dead brother. Being careful and strategic was key.

  He leered her way. “Many. You were our favorite toy.”

  “Now I am your partner,” she reminded him, reaching under her tank top to unfasten her bra. After some finagling, she pulled the undergarment free through the side and shoved it at Victor. “Hold this and watch for your opportunity.”

  With a deep breath, she wriggled her shorts down to her hip bones and folded the legs up to her coochie. Most of her midriff was bare, and the cool breeze had stiffened her nipples. Hopefully, distracting the two sentries wouldn’t require revealing more skin than that. She really didn’t want to get naked with either of them…but she’d been desperate enough to do worse in the past.

  Shoving the thought aside, she swayed around the side of the building. On the alert, both men zipped their gazes in her direction. Security lights from above illuminated their faces. They were under thirty and strapping. On the left, the blond man with an unkempt beard drew his weapon as he looked her up and down. On the right, a black man with arms bulging from his wifebeater followed suit.

  “Hola, gentlemen. Do not shoot. I am lost. I could find no one else to ask for directions at this hour.” She pressed a hand to her chest to draw attention to her nipples as she approached the garage. “But perhaps you can help me? I am driving to Miami. I have no GPS, and I cannot find the freeway. You will help me, yes?”

  The blond man gulped and nodded, his stare glued to her breasts.

  The other one smiled as if he fully intended to help her—out of her clothes. Then he holstered his weapon and slipped an arm around her middle. “Sure, baby. There’s a guard shack around the corner and—”

  “But your friend. We cannot leave him alone.” She looked back at the blond guy to find him staring at her ass. “Come closer. I am cold. Will you help keep me warm?”

  Immediately, he tucked his gun away and zipped to her side, plastering himself against her body. Laila shoved down a shudder, wondering why so many men were foolish enough to fall for such tactics. They were transparent. Obvious. Ridiculous.

  Because too many men thought with their chiles, rather than their brains.

  “That is better.” She sent them both inviting smiles. “What are you guarding? If you have been assigned to protect it, I am sure it is very important.”

  “It’s a car,” the bearded man answered. “The most expensive one ever registered for this race.”

  “Oh? Is it yours?”

  The black man snorted. “He wishes.”

  “I do. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He eyed her up and down again. “Except you.”

  Laila pretended to blush and flirt. “Can you show me?”

  The blond guy shook his head. “The doors are supposed to stay locked.”

  “Of course. And you are responsible men. But I am simply a lost woman, who is all alone and now very curious. Certainly there would be no harm in letting me peek? And it will…what is the word? Arouse me to see it.”

  The two men exchanged a glance. Then they grinned at one another.

  “All right, baby. Just a peek. You’ll reward us for it?”

  She smiled their way. “Of course.”

  The dark man punched numbers into the keypad, releasing the lock on the temperature-controlled unit. The other guy helped him push the door up. The lights flashed on. And there sat Geraldo Montilla’s prized possession, shiny, pristine, and candy-apple red.

  Laila gasped and touched her chest again. “Que carro más lindo.”

  “Huh?” The blond guy frowned.

  “What a beautiful car,” she supplied as she sauntered closer. “The more I look at it, the more I become”—she licked her lips, then bit the bottom one as if she held in a secret she could keep no more—“wet. Who will help me with that?”

  “I will,” the bearded man volunteered a split second later.

  The bigger man elbowed him. “Don’t you have a girlfriend? Besides, she’s too much woman for you. I got her.”

  She laid her fingers on his brown chest with a sultry smile. When he started preening, she did the same to the blond man. “I am feeling…adventurous. There is enough of me to go around.”

  The blue-eyed man swallowed hard. “You think you can take us both?”

  “I want to try.” She ran her hand along the side of the sleek red car, silently marveling at how truly stunning the vehicle was. Then she bent over the hood and stuck her ass in the air. “I think I would like it.”

  If they crowded around her, they’d both be distracted. They would also have their backs to Victor, who now had an open path to sneak in and knock them out. That would do nicely.

  “Hmm, baby.” The big one gripped her hips and notched his erection against her backside.

  Laila held in a tremor of distaste. She did not want anyone’s hands on her except Trees’s.

  “Not here, dude.” The other guy bobbed his pale head toward the corner of the garage.

  She followed the gesture and tried not to wince. Cameras. Carajo! Hopefully, when Montilla saw this footage, he would not recognize her. After all, the last time they met she had barely been more than a child, and he’d treated her as if she was beneath his notice, thank God.

  The bigger man stepped back and grabbed her arm. “He’s right. Damn it.”

  Laila turned and buried her face in the man’s neck and pretended to breathe him in. He smelled like sweat and testosterone. Then she repeated the gesture with the bearded man, who also smelled of cigarettes.

  She tried not to choke. “Let us go to the guard shack, then. I am impatient.”

  “Good call. Follow me.” The big one dragged her out of the garage, around the corner, then down a narrow alley before the darkened guard shack came into view.

  “Wait!” the blond guy protested, lagging behind. “We’re not supposed to leave the garage open. Anyone could come in and steal the car.”

  Mr. Wifebeater rolled his eyes. “Who do you think is around to do that? It’s not even five o’clock in the morning. The partiers left a few hours ago, and the business heads won’t be here until after sunup. It’ll be fine for a few minutes.”

  “But—”

  “She’s wet,” he reminded through gritted teeth. “I’m not giving up good pussy for this shitty-paying temp job. But you feel free to stay.”

  “I need you both,” she whined. “Please.”

  With a long sigh, the blond guy shook his head and grumbled. “I’m probably going to hell, but fuck it.”

  Then he stomped after them.

  Victor better move quickly, because Laila doubted she could put these two off for long, and she refused to get naked and spread her legs.

  When they reached the guard shack, she held back, pursing her lips and batting her lashes. “Turn on the lights first. I am afraid of the dark.”

  At least that much was true.

  The big man hustled in and felt around for the switch.

  The blond guy looked shocked. “You want the lights on while we fuck you?”

  She dragged a finger over the curve of her breast. “Do you not wish to see all of me? I want to see you.”

  Despite the fact she nearly choked on the lie, he gave her a bug-eyed head bob and raced into the guard shack, right behind his partner.

  She gave them a come-hither smile—then slammed the door, grabbing the flag that proclaimed this the sector twelve security station from its nearby holder. With shaking hands, she shoved the fat pole between the long pull and the door itself, jamming it tight. This wouldn’t hold for more than a minute or two.

  Laila hoped that would be enough.

  At once, they began beating on the door while glaring out the windows at her.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Let us out, bitch!”

  She didn’t waste time responding, simply hustled away. When they broke the glass and started shooting, she tried to push back her panic, zigzagging to avoid their bullets.

  Pings whizzed past her. Laila gasped, her heart racing with fear. The big guy cursed. A glance back proved he’d reached through the open window to dislodge the metal pole. She didn’t stay around to see how long it took them to wriggle it free. She had to find Victor.

  Thankfully, when she rounded the corner, she heard the purr of the classic car’s engine. Then the vehicle rolled through the double doors, Victor behind the wheel.

  He shot her a triumphant glance, stroking the dashboard. “Get in. Montilla is going to miss the hell out of this car. Too bad for that fucking bastard.”

  Yes, and in less than five minutes, the drug lord would know his car had been stolen and by whom—exactly as she’d planned. But she couldn’t attract more of Montilla’s attention herself. She had to hope that the kingpin would write her off as a whore who had merely diverted his security for a good time or a buck.

  Suddenly, she heard shouting and the pounding of footsteps. The guards—with their guns—were free.

  “Go! I will meet you by the rental truck in five minutes.” Since the guards would undoubtedly chase the car, she stood a better chance of disappearing on foot.

  Laila darted into the maze of side buildings, skulking in the shadows until she lost them. Then she found the broken fence she’d entered through and slinked away from the racetrack, sprinting toward the nearby side street where they’d left the rented truck.

  And if Victor decided he didn’t need her and left her behind? Well, she would hardly mourn his departure. She had already planted the seed of ambition in his mind. He would go after Montilla until one or both of them were dead.

  But when she reached the U-Haul, Victor was there, frantically opening the back. “Get the ramp.”

  She raced to help him anchor it in place, then he drove the Ferrari into the cargo container. Heart slamming against her ribs, she looked over her shoulders for the guards. Thankfully, no sign of them—yet.

  Laila dispensed with the ramp, plucked up a ball cap she’d planted nearby just as Victor cut the engine and hopped to the street and yanked down the door. She charged toward the driver’s side, tucking her hair beneath the cap. Once she slid behind the wheel and Victor settled into the passenger’s seat, she pulled away from the curb with a sigh of relief.

  They’d done it. She was still shaking like a leaf, and the coming adrenaline crash would probably have her vomiting soon, but they had succeeded. Victor was now on Montilla’s radar. The kingpin would definitely divert resources to finding his expensive toy. Hopefully, he’d be enraged—and sloppy. That’s when Laila would make her next move.

  “Where am I driving?” She glanced over her shoulder as she headed toward the freeway, wishing more than anything that she could turn around and head straight back to Trees.

  Victor pocketed the keys. “Mexico. I know where we can hide this thing until I’m ready to make my move.”

  Lafayette

  Barely twenty-four hours after he’d last seen Laila, Trees parked in front of a light industrial building on the east side of Lafayette that had seen better decades. At twenty minutes before dawn, he choked back the last of his black coffee and exited his Hummer, slamming the door behind him.

  Strung out on caffeine and restless energy, he approached the seemingly deserted place and shouldered his way through the door. Inside, he scanned the busy domain. It could best be described as a war room, complete with wall-to-wall warriors. Unlike the exterior, this space looked up-do-date, tricked out, and high-tech. On any other day, he’d be eager to dig in and check everything out. Today, he was too fucking worried about Laila.

  “Trees.” Hunter Edgington stood and approached, obviously exhausted and on edge.