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She laughed, the sound brittle. “And then I fell for someone worse than the people I left behind. Only he disguised it with pretty words and expensive gifts.”
Shame burned a hole in her stomach. She set down her mug, her gaze fixed on her hands rather than see the disgust on Caleb’s face. “He made me feel chosen. For a while at least. Until I realized what living in Vincente’s world meant.”
Caleb’s voice gentled. “What did it mean?”
It had meant blood on a pristine white boat deck. A lifeless gaze frozen in fear. Her lover’s cold, dark eyes when he told her, calmly, that he’d had no choice.
She gathered her mug and took it to the sink. Motion to ground her and shatter the waking nightmare.
A shiver ran up her spine—her only sign Caleb had followed.
“You can’t keep running.” His voice was still soft, but a cold, deadly note had crept in. “Your ex is the son of Espina Negra’s leader. That changes everything.”
The mug slipped from her nerveless fingers. Porcelain shattered in the sink.
Caleb muttered a curse. His hand landed on her hip, spinning her to face him. This close, sandalwood and spice wrapped around her. His broad chest and shoulders blotted out everything else.
She licked parched lips. Stared at the tanned column of his throat instead of his eyes. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“You should have told me the truth from the beginning.”
No.Not when it was the only thing keeping her alive. The only leverage she had.
“I didn’t want you involved. Vincente is dangerous.”
His fingers tightened, eyes blazing. “He’s the one bringing in the fentanyl that killed my mother.”
Gia’s knees buckled. The force of his pain—raw and unfiltered—hit her like a blow.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
His body thrummed, rage held barely in check. He caged her against the counter. “Why does he want you back so badly.”
“I told you, he’s possessive.”
“There’s more to it.”
He didn’t know what he asked of her.
She shook her head.
Caleb released her and stepped back, hands lifted as if only now realizing he’d touched her. “I need your help to bring him down. It’s the only way you’ll ever be free.”
“You’ll never be able to touch him in Miami. Don’t you think the police have tried?”
It’s why she’d abandoned her life and run. There would be no justice. Espina Negra’s pockets were too deep, their tentacles everywhere.
“I’m not going after him in Miami. I want him to come here.”
Her pulse skipped. “How would you get him here?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew.
“Me. You want him to come for me.” Her flat tone matched the pain knifing her heart.
Which was silly. She hadn’t known this man long enough to let him breach her defenses.
To assume he was different from the other men she’d known.