Page 88
Story: Can't Hold Back
For a second or two, her mind went completely blank. She looked into his eyes—really looked—and saw love, and affection, and that ever-present heat that made her whole body hum.
“Well, when you put it that way...I suppose I should say yes. Besides, how can I pass up the chance to make my cousin Maria wear an uglier bridesmaid dress than the one she saddled me with?”
That earned her a wicked smile. Then he kissed her—long, slow, deep—and her panties fell to the floor.
ON THE SOUTH SIDE OFtown, Wade walked into a dimly lit bar that reeked of stale beer and cigarettes. He paused as the door swung shut behind him, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light.
Odin’s Den was the kind of place where ordering a fruity drink would get your ass kicked. A dozen or so men were hunched over the bar, most of them staring straight down at their drinks, while the guy at the end watched the boxing match playing on the wall-mounted television. The bartender was huge and heavily tattooed, with a long chin beard and so many piercings he probably jingled when he walked. A thick cloud of smoke hung over a ratty pool table, where a pair of middle-aged rednecks played eight-ball.
Wade scanned the room as he walked past a jukebox blaring Led Zeppelin. No threats, at least none that he couldn’t handle, but he still noted the location of the rear exit, just in case things went to shit.
He spotted a guy seated at a table near the restrooms and immediately recognized Hector Bosquez, his friend and former mentor at the DEA.
At first glance, Hector was easy to underestimate, a fact that served him well when he worked in the field. He was long and lean, an inch or two under six feet, with lines creasing the corners of his eyes and gray peppering his short, spiky brown hair. The wire-rimmed glasses were new, as was the scar on his forehead just below the hairline. Dressed in faded jeans and a plaid shirt, he sat with his back to the wall and two bottles of beer on the scarred wood table in front of him.
At Wade’s approach, his former mentor gave a subtle nod of acknowledgment.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s early,” Wade grumbled as he slid back an empty chair.
Hector grinned, his smile the brightest thing in the room. He pushed one of the open bottles across the table. “You’re just mad because you gotta sit with your back to the door. You still like porters, right?”
Old instincts rose to the surface as Wade warily eyed the beer. Back in the days when he worked undercover, he never drank from a bottle unless he’d opened it himself or watched somebody do it. Too much risk of being drugged or poisoned. But this was Hector, one of the few people outside of his family that he trusted, so he sat, brushed his misgivings aside, and drank a swig of beer.
“It’s good to see you, Flint.” Genuine warmth filled Hector’s voice. As part of his cover, he spoke with a Mexican accent, but tonight he used his native Texas twang. “Been what, a year?”
“Something like that.”
“You look good; been hitting the gym.”
“It helps.” So far it was the only thing he’d found that quieted the demons trapped inside him. Hate. Self-loathing. Bone-crushing guilt. Therapy hadn’t done shit. Neither had the drugs the doctor prescribed. His family tried their best to help, and while he appreciated their efforts, there were days when he wished they’d just leave him the fuck alone. “You got something for me?”
Low laughter shook Hector’s chest. “You were always one to cut to the chase. It’s good to see some things never change.” He swallowed another mouthful of beer and set the half-empty bottle on the table. Then his face lost all expression, a tell-tale sign he was ready to talk business. “I don’t even want to know how you got that account information. I passed it along to the narco nerds; they verified it belongs to Aranza. Unfortunately, it doesn’t shed any light on where to find him.”
Wade scowled. “You didn’t come all this way just to deliver bad news.”
“No, I didn’t.” Hector stared down at the table for a few seconds, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle. “According to my sources, Aranza’s mother has cancer. Don’t know what kind, but it sounds pretty bad. They said Aranza built a new compound for her to live in while she’s undergoing treatment.”
Wade’s pulse kicked up a notch. Roberto Aranza was a psychotic piece of shit, but he also was a big momma’s boy. And if his mother was gravely ill, he wouldn’t stray far from to her side. “Where?”
“I don’t have an exact location, just a general area.” Hector’s gaze flicked up, meeting Wade’s. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Carmen deserves justice.” The feel of her name on his lips triggered an avalanche of memories that crushed the air from his lungs. Justice, revenge, was it really all that different? It was the very first thing he thought of each morning, and the last before he went to sleep. But most important, it was the only reason he hadn’t eaten a bullet.
“I know, and I agree. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.” Shadows passed over Hector’s face as he drained the last of his beer. “If we do this, we’re going in alone. The brass won’t sanction this type of operation. And if we get caught—”
“I’m aware of the risks.” He was also aware that the odds of coming home alive were slim at best. “I don’t expect you to come with me. Just tell me where to find him.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Hector muttered a curse. “Is your passport current?”
“Just got it renewed.”
“Good. Pack light. We leave in three days.”
DON’T MISSBeyond the Breaking Point, book five of the Six Points Series!
Four years ago, Special Agent Wade Flint nearly died at the hands of a vicious drug lord. Now he’s finally uncovered where the scumbag is hiding in the jungles of Central America, and it’s time for a little payback. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but Wade plans to deliver it piping hot and ram it down the bastard’s throat.
He didn’t expect to rescue a beautiful American doctor along the way.
He didn’t want to feel the sizzle of attraction.
And he sure as hell didn’t expect her to awaken things inside him that he long considered dead.
His thirst for vengeance may have kept him alive, but only love can give him something worth living for...
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88 (Reading here)