Trees looked at her, dumbfounded. “You want to be with him?”

  “Of course. I always have.”

  He scowled. “Bullshit. You can’t fake the terror you felt for him the night he cornered you in the women’s room of that hotel. You were desperate to escape. You screamed for help—until he tried to strangle you. You kicked and scratched and tried to get away.”

  “It is a game we enjoy. It is our foreplay. I like sex rough.” That lie turned her stomach, but to save Trees’s life, she told it without flinching.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You should. If you came here to find me, you have wasted your time.” She jerked from his grasp. “Leave. Go back where you belong.”

  “No.” He grabbed her arm again. “If you like the way he fucks you so much, why did you just kiss me with your whole heart?”

  “I did not say you lacked skills. Your abilities between the sheets are quite good and kept you happily believing everything I told you.” She shrugged. “But Victor does me better.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “If that is what you need to tell yourself…” She yanked free again. “But the truth would be better for you. I am leaving. You should do the same. Do not follow me.”

  Then Laila darted down the narrow path between the houses, skirting the cowboy, before she dashed down the street in time to see Victor barreling toward her, gun in hand. A wave of trepidation threatened to pull her under, but she had to stay strong.

  She headed Victor off, hands up to stop him, doing her best to keep him far from Trees. “Victor—”

  “Where is that bastard? I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  “I sent him away. Do not be distracted. We have bigger things to do. The car, did you settle it?”

  “Gustavo is handling that now, so I have time to put a bullet between that son of a bitch’s eyes for killing Hector.” He shoved her out of the way. “Where the fuck are you, Scott?”

  God help Trees if he was foolish enough to seek a fight now. It would be his demise. He didn’t know how dirty Victor fought. He might not understand no one in this town would help him.

  She grabbed Victor by the elbow. “You must stay focused.”

  With a growl, he shrugged her off. “I am—on revenge. He will pay for all he’s done.”

  “Hector was reckless. He and his wife kidnapped a baby with plans to end her little life.”

  Victor turned to glare at her as if she was half-witted. “I know. I helped them. Who gives a shit about a baby? Oh, you think Scott is noble for saving the poor, innocent child, don’t you? That makes him heroic in your eyes. But he still forced you to his bed, didn’t he?”

  Laila let the lie stand. If she told Victor the truth, he would only come after Trees harder.

  “Your fight now is with Montilla so you can take over the cartel. Ignore your petty tiff with that nobody of a paid mercenary. He can do nothing to stop you once you become the leader of Tierra Caliente. You will be untouchable. But you will fail if you let yourself be distracted.”

  Victor stopped and looked around the street as if he saw nothing and no one. “I don’t see Montilla anywhere. I have plenty of time to end the asshole who killed my brother.” He gripped her arm. “Who dared to touch what is mine.”

  Laila blanched. Normally, she wouldn’t risk inciting Victor, but she must keep his attention on her, not Trees, whom she prayed had taken her advice and fled. It was a good sign that he and the cowboy hadn’t come out to confront Victor.

  She jerked her elbow from his grip. “I have fresh gossip. Montilla’s men are in town, watching for you. If you do anything to draw their attention…”

  “You are sure?” His eyes narrowed.

  “Yes.”

  His curse told her that if he didn’t exactly believe the lie, he at least believed it was possible. Hopefully, that would be enough for now. “Walk back to my villa. I will collect the car and meet you there. We will take it and find someplace more secure, somewhere Montilla and that freakishly tall bastard will never find us.”

  That would never work. If Trees was anywhere close, he would find her trekking the road alone. He would follow her. And he would take her. “Let me stay with you.” She forced herself to hold his hand and squeeze it. “Be your eyes and ears. Who else can you trust?”

  Victor glared her way, then glanced down at their joined hands. “I’m not convinced I can trust you, chiquita.”

  “If I wanted you dead, I would not have told you that Montilla’s men are coming, and the longer we argue, the closer they get.” She tugged him toward the garage. “Let us reclaim the truck before Gustavo locks it away and get on the road. Or instead of hiding, maybe we simply move forward with our plan and exchange the car for Montilla’s bargaining chip.”

  He scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “Once we are out of town, I will explain. All of it.” She swallowed nervously, looking for Trees.

  What was he doing? Thinking? Or had he gone?

  Suddenly, she felt his eyes on her. He was still near. Terror gripped her.

  “Always promising me later,” he snarled. “I’m done waiting. Tell me now or I will find your tall hero and shoot him.”

  He would. Laila had no doubt. Her heart stuttered. Once she revealed her plan, she would have little leverage left over Victor. He would no longer see her as a partner, just an expendable nuisance. But his mistreatment or his bullet was better than watching Trees die.

  “Montilla is holding a prisoner. The Edgingtons, who own EM Security? Geraldo abducted their sister, Kimber, and is keeping her captive. We can use that against him.”

  “That’s it?” he thundered. “That’s your bargaining chip? I already know he has her. That’s not useful.”

  Laila blinked. She hadn’t considered the possibility that he knew of Kimber’s abduction. But it made sense. If he had a spy on the inside, it was possible he’d already been tipped off. Carajo! She had to think fast. The tactic that always worked best was to stroke Victor’s ego.

  “Of course you are aware of the captive. I merely suggest you use her as leverage, so she goes from being a bargaining chip Montilla would use to force EM Security to give up my sister’s location to a liability that could weaken them, perhaps even prove their downfall—all orchestrated by you. If you succeed, there are few who would challenge your right to run the cartel.”

  Victor stared at her as if he could see through her. Abruptly, he snaked one hand around her nape. The other clamped down on her jaw. He jerked her closer, against his body, until his angry face hovered a mere inch above hers. His threat was clear, but still he spoke it aloud. “If you’re full of shit, if you’re playing me… I will kill you, Laila. And I won’t give you a polite double-tap to the head. I’ll rape you. I’ll starve you. I’ll torture you. I will make you beg for the end, and I will not give it to you. I will let you wonder how long I intend to keep you alive to use for my perverse amusement. The answer will be until I get bored with your suffering. And that may be never.”

  She didn’t want to be afraid of Victor, but he never made idle threats. Once her plan backfired and he realized she’d been using him for her own ends with every intention of feeding him to Montilla, he would do exactly what he warned.

  Suddenly, Trees emerged from between the two houses, gun drawn, barreling toward them with ground-eating strides. “Get your fucking hands off her. Now!”

  Trees watched Laila and Victor Ramos exchange words. He couldn’t hear what they said, but it sure seemed like a fight. And he didn’t like how the angry son of a bitch was looking at her.

  But when he tried to jump out from between the two houses and intervene, Matt jerked him back, one hand wrapped around his arm, the other fisted in the back of his shirt. He was breathing hard. “Don’t do it.”

  “Let me the fuck go,” Trees growled.

  “So you can commit suicide? No. I’m supposed to make sure you get back in one piece.”

  He tugged against Matt’s hold again. “We’re supposed to bring Laila back, too.”

  “You heard her. She doesn’t want to come back with you. Let her go.”

  “She’s lying. She’s trying to protect her family.” Then he realized Laila had thrown herself into Victor’s path moments ago, and that had nothing to do with saving Valeria. “And me. She means to shield me. She’s got some scheme…”

  “Fucking listen to yourself, man,” Matt growled in his ear. “I know you want to believe she’s good and noble, but it’s possible that after years with a cartel, she’s warped, she’s getting what she wants, and she played you.”

  The words went in Trees’s ears…and right back out. “You don’t know her.”

  “Maybe it’s time to consider that you don’t really, either. You spent a few days with her. And you…what? Spent a few nights with her, too, I guess. None of that makes you an expert.”

  “You trying to figure out this situation on the fly doesn’t make you an expert, either. Why don’t you do us both a favor? Shut the fuck up and let me handle this.”

  “No. You’re in too deep. You’re not thinking straight.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know what being compromised looks like. I’m staring at it.”

  Suddenly, Victor grabbed her neck in one hand, her jaw with the other and yanked her against him, looking furious as hell. Then he snarled something in her face that made her tremble.

  Trees was done. Matt and his caution could go fuck themselves.

  He elbowed the other operator, then twisted from his grip and shoved him back. “You don’t make my decisions. If you’re afraid, stay the fuck out of this.”

  Then he emerged onto the street, gun drawn. “Get your fucking hands off her. Now!”

  Victor sent him a nasty smile, like he had something horrible planned he would thoroughly enjoy. Suddenly, he whirled Laila around, flattening her back against his chest to use her as a human shield. Then he raised his gun to her temple. “Or what, Scott? Whatever you’re planning, I’ll shoot her, and her death will be on your hands.”

  Trees risked a glance at her. Her body went tense. For a moment, she looked terrified. Then she breathed, and the expression disappeared.

  Like she wasn’t afraid of him anymore? Or as if she enjoyed the way the danger made her heart race? Did Laila actually get some sexual thrill from the adrenaline rush?

  He couldn’t address that now. He had to defuse this standoff first, make sure the motherfucker didn’t hurt her.

  “I don’t care about Laila, except that I’ve been hired to bring her back. Hand her over and I’ll let you live,” Trees told Victor.

  The thug scoffed, then gave him a condescending laugh—right before he jerked the gun from Laila’s temple and aimed it directly at him. “Fuck off and die.”

  Then he pulled the trigger.

  Trees recoiled as if he’d suffered a mortal body blow. Laila screamed, watching helplessly as blood sprayed from his right side. Then warm wetness splashed across her cheek. A splatter of red stained her pristine white blouse. He stumbled back. Horror filled her as he tripped on his huge feet and toppled back, falling, falling…like a giant redwood felled by an ax.

  As he hit the ground, his head smacked the asphalt with a sickening thud. His eyes slid shut. His body went limp. His gun fell from his lax grip.

  He didn’t move.

  “Trees!” she screeched, wildly elbowing Victor.

  As soon as Laila got free, she skidded to her knees and crawled the remaining distance between them. Her heart raced. She trembled, tears stinging her eyes as she felt her way up his body. On his right, she encountered something warm and wet. When she lifted her hand, blood coated her fingers. Panic surged. “Trees!”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t even twitch.

  That terrified Laila even more. His chest moved with each breath, and his pulse was seemingly steady, too. She was grateful for that. But he exhibited no other signs of life.

  Her head screamed at her to save him, even as she prayed this wasn’t happening. But it was, and she needed to act.

  Her racing thoughts jumbled, making every thought seem agonizingly slow. Instinctively, she applied direct pressure to his wound, pressing her previously white skirt to his side, just as she caught sight of a movement up the street. Matt hovered in the shadows between the two houses where Trees had kissed her minutes ago. Dios mío, she wished she could go back and make him stay there safely. But it was too late, and now she didn’t know the extent of his injuries. What if he wasn’t merely bleeding? What if the blow to his head had caused trauma or the bullet had triggered internal damage? Or what if Victor took him prisoner to torture him before finishing him off?

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  Help him, she mouthed at Matt.

  But the stranger in the hat turned blurry. Laila hadn’t even realized she was crying. It wasn’t helpful. It wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to stop and do something more productive. But when she blinked away the wetness pouring from her eyes, Matt was gone, melted into the shadows, apparently prepared to let Trees die ignominiously in the middle of a ramshackle Mexican road.

  She alone would save him.

  Pressing her skirt tighter against Trees’s side, Laila tried to stem the bleeding, but red kept oozing from the wound and spreading up the white cotton. It was everywhere, abundant and horrifying. Panic set in. Trees needed medical attention now. But he wouldn’t get it here. This little village had no hospital.

  Still, Laila refused to give up. She continued pressing her skirt to the wound and started silently pleading with the God she was sure had forsaken her long ago to spare his life. “Please! Trees, no. Do not…” Die. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “Stay with me.”

  Suddenly, Victor’s cruel fingers gripped her hair, tugging her by her scalp. “Get up. Right now! The only man you get on your hands and knees for is me when I fuck you.”

  Laila opened her mouth to object, but he yanked so viciously she staggered to her feet.

  “You lied to me about your feelings for him,” he snapped. “So he will stay here and rot in the street. And you can remember him, bleeding out and far from home while he took his last breath. Now we’re leaving…unless your claim that Montilla’s men are nearby was a lie, too?”

  Everything inside her resisted abandoning Trees. She ached to stay and get him help, until he could open his eyes and protect the world again. But if she did, Victor would only put another bullet in him.

  As much as it killed her, she could keep him safer by getting Victor far away. Hopefully, Matt or some good Samaritan would render Trees aid once she and Victor were gone.

  “I-it was not a lie.” She stopped fighting those brutal fingers. “I swear.”

  “Now that shots have been fired, it’s no longer safe here.” He yanked even tighter on her hair. “And tonight I will remind you why I was the first man to shove his cock in your tight, dirty pussy and why I will also be the last.”

  Laila wasn’t shocked that Victor had been the one to forcibly take her virginity in that dark, dank bed all those years ago, just as she didn’t doubt he would make the next rape even more harsh and painful.

  She’d been a fool to believe she could play him. She’d strutted in with her guns, her bravado, and her scheme, doing her best to convince him that she knew how to game the cartel. He’d bested her instead, pretending to be her partner, saying he no longer cared about owning her body. He’d merely placated her for the bargaining chip she’d sworn she had. Once she’d opened her mouth and proven herself an amateur, he’d seized control of the situation—and her. He would use both to his satisfaction.

  She had made her bed; now she had to lie in it. But Trees…

  He lay sprawled in the street, a puddle of blood forming around his body. She saw no sign of Matt. A few townsfolk stood around with wary eyes, staring at his unmoving form but not daring to help.

  Suddenly, Gustavo Pastrana strode from the office and toward the cluster of observers with a cocky swagger. They parted to make a path for him. He passed each by, approaching Trees with purpose.

  Then he held up a blowtorch, and his grin turned evil.

  Laila tried to scream, hoping someone kind would help the man she loved, but Victor slapped his sweaty palm over her mouth and dragged her inside the warehouse just as the mechanic lit the flame on his device.

  She tried to dig in her heels, but it didn’t matter. Victor shoved her across the hot, musty interior, toward the truck. He only released his vicious hold on her long enough to hoist her up through the driver’s-side door and shove her into the cab. Laila scrambled across the bench seat, reaching for the passenger door so she could flee and help Trees.

  Victor merely seized her hair again, his fist at her nape, and yanked her into her seat. “You’re not going anywhere. Buckle up. Don’t try anything else or there will be a price.”

  There always was. But maybe she could use his greed for her to Trees’s advantage.

  “I will give you every part of me without a single protest for as long as you wish if you let me find him medical attention and get him to safety,” she offered earnestly, reaching for the buttons of her blouse.

  Victor cut her a nasty glance. “Gustavo is tending to him now, so it’s too late. Besides, you will give me all of you for as long as I wish, regardless. Now shut up.”

  Grief sent her tears pooling and plunging down her face. Bartering her body for her bed and her food would be next, no doubt. She hadn’t taken her guns into town, and he would soon seize her phone so she would be helpless again. But she no longer cared what happened to her. Trees’s death was her fault. If she hadn’t recklessly believed she could outsmart Victor, she might still be with him. Now the man she loved had paid with his life.

  Victor turned the engine over, then stuck his hand out the window, gesturing to a boy working in the warehouse. The kid opened the door, and Victor gunned the truck, taking a right out of the giant, dilapidated building. Laila tried to peer through the back window for a glimpse of Trees—hoping against all odds that someone had saved him—but she only saw a cadre of well-armed men racing down the street, pointing in their direction, then hopping into a beat-up sedan, gunning their engines in pursuit, and pointing what looked like machine guns out their windows.