Page 45

We drive for a little while, and I remain on my side, looking up and out the window. The moment I get a glimpse of large wrought iron gates opening, I know where I am.
Alejandro Torres’ estate.
The pieces click together fast. He wants his emerald back, and I guess I’m the unlucky one he was able to grab. But how did he know? Ryder looped the cams and we all managed to escape without incident. Unless he had some other tech running that recorded our images? Maybe the same system that activated the alarm? Or maybe someone followed us? I have no idea. I do know I’m not in a good situation because no one knows I’m missing.
Fabulous. Somehow, I’m going to have to fight my way out of a gated compound with security up the wazoo.
The moment the SUV stops, Torres’ men get out. My door opens and a mean-looking mountain of a man stares back at me, a challenge gleaming in his black eyes. The top of his head is a big, bald dome and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a Sumo wrestler on the side.
“Are we going to have a problem?” Dome Head growls, lifting the stun gun to remind me he has it and won’t hesitate to use it.
As if I need a reminder.
“No,” I respond quickly, not wanting to become incapacitated by that electrical current again. It’s imperative for me to remain alert because the first opportunity I have to escape, I’m taking it.
“Let’s go.” He jerks his chin toward the mansion, and we start walking. The other guard, though smaller, is no less dangerous looking, and has a pockmarked face that reminds me of a lumpy toad.
Every step I take feels like one step closer to walking right off a cliff. Not having a weapon puts me at a disadvantage, but I’m also highly trained in hand-to-hand combat, thanks to the military. Plus, my legs are pretty long and I can run fast. And I’m not above running.
Now if I had access to a plane or jet, then that’s a whole other story. I’m always up for a dogfight.
Damn, I wish I could get my hands on something with an engine and—
The distinctivewhomp-whomp-whompof a helicopter’s rotor blades fills the distant air. The sound is music to my ears and my pulse quickens. If I can get behind the controls of a helo, then game fucking over.
Before I can get too excited, Dome Head grabs my arm and jerks me through the front door. Toad follows closely behind, and they escort me straight outside to the large patio. A man whoI assume is Alejandro Torres lounges on a rattan sofa beside the pool.
“Hello again, Ms. McGrath,” he says coolly. His English is perfect, though accented, and he resembles a young Antonio Banderas. Definitely not bad on the eyes. Too bad he’s a criminal.
And what does he mean by “again?” My gaze lifts to connect with the glass bottom of the second pool hovering above us—the one where Knox and I swam. But how would Torres possibly know I snuck into his party as hired help?
I’m also wondering how he knows my name. The most likely answer is they hacked into the flight records and saw my name.
I decide the best thing to do is play dumb and keep my mouth shut. For now, anyway.
He arches a thick, black brow. “Nothing to say?”
I shrug a shoulder, remaining silent. Without warning, Torres jumps up, yanks me around and hauls me against his body. A muscled arm wraps around my chest and he flicks open a switchblade. I feel a prick against the side of my throat.
Holy shit, the man moves faster than a striking rattlesnake.
“I’m going to ask you some questions and I suggest you start talking.” The sharp point of the blade pushes into my neck. “Comprende?”
I swallow hard and can feel warm blood trickling down my skin. “Yes,” I force out.
“Good.” He shoves me away, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wipes my blood off the blade. “Now, whydon’t we sit down like civilized people and you’re going to tell me everything you know about the crew who stole my emerald.”
Dome Head shoves me down into the nearest chair while Torres returns to his cushioned sofa. Leaning forward, he clasps his hands together and skewers me with an intimidating, black stare. “Just so we’re clear, Ms. McGrath, I don’t tolerate being lied to. Every time you dare tell me a falsehood, I’ll have Sergio cut something off your delectable little body. It could be a finger, a toe, an ear…Maybe I’ll have him pop out one of your pretty brown eyes. Am I clear?”
Great. I’m dealing with a total psychopath.“Crystal,” I respond, squeezing my hands into fists. Over my dead body is he cutting anything off. The first opportunity that presents itself, I’m getting the hell out of here.
I just need to figure out how.
“Let’s start with the names of your crew.” He leans back and waits, but there’s no way I’m giving him any names.
So, what do I do? Lie and potentially risk losing a finger or worse?
Channeling those wily thieves, I put on my best game face. “That’s going to be rather difficult since they only go by aliases.”