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Torres had an iron grip on the weapons trade in Puerto Jardin, and he had for decades. Intel showed no one challenged him. No one. But the arms dealer might be vulnerable. He was aging, his second-in-command was dead, and Torres had eliminated the men who betrayed him by supporting his righthand man, so he was not fully staffed. If there was ever a time to test his strength, it was now.
Hector Ramirez wasn’t afraid of much, and he’d been hardened by his fighting in the civil war before he’d been kicked out of the rebel army. If he could get his hands on this weapon when Torres couldn’t, he might be able to muscle the older man out completely.
Maybe Torres doesn’t scare them.
Maybe he didn’t, although the first time Case had been grabbed, Torres hadn’t been weakened. But what if Ramirez knew the arms dealer’s righthand man was betraying his boss and running a side hustle? That would show vulnerability. It might be enough for Ramirez.
The most likely reason now seemed like the odds-on favorite.
Hours passed, and no one bothered with them. Just like the first time. It didn’t make sense. Why go to the trouble of capturing them and then ignore them?
Nyx was still scared, but she was also getting restless. Case could read that, too. He’d learned she liked being busy, that she liked having a task or goal. He needed to keep her occupied, but the question was how? They had nothing except the clothes they wore and those were wet. Their backpacks, his helmet, and the weapons had been confiscated.
“Fireball.” He waited until he had her attention. “Tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”
“A fun fact?”
“Sure, why not?”
She was quiet for a moment, her gaze focused on the wall as she thought about it. “I taught myself to knit. It’s how I relieve my anxiety when I feel overwhelmed.”
“Knit, huh? Can you make me a sweater?”
“I’ve never knit a garment, but even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m not losing you because of the boyfriend sweater curse.”
He laughed. “What?”
Nyx nodded, looking serious. “The curse says that if you knit a sweater for a significant other, you’ll break up shortly thereafter. The prevailing wisdom in the knitting community is no sweaters until after the wedding.”
“I guess I’ll have to ask you for one after the ceremony.”
She drilled him with a hard look. “Would you even wear a sweater? I’m not about to spend months knitting something if it’s going to sit in a drawer.”
All right, he could see that. “Maybe you could make something else for me.”
“We’ll talk about it. My turn for a question.”
Case didn’t like the tone of her voice. She wasn’t going after a surface level piece of information, and considering her curiosity about his childhood, nothing was out of the realm of possibility. “Okay,” he said, sounding more relaxed than he felt.
“Have you ever been in love? Before me, of course, honey bear.”
He hesitated, but the honey bear told him she was playing her role, aware there were rebel soldiers positioned around their hut. “I thought I was,” he admitted.
Nyx crossed to where he stood. She tipped her head to look up at him and asked, “What happened?”
“I found out she was married, something she forgot to tell me. Her husband was deployed at the time.” Case grimaced, before adding, “None of my friends know about it.” He wasn’t sure why he was sharing it with Nyx, but hell, he’d already told her about his mom. This was easier to talk about than that.
Nodding, Nyx said, “She caused you to violate your code of honor. How long ago was this?”
“Long before I met you.”
“I know that. I still want to know when.”
It didn’t matter, so Case answered. “More than three years ago.”
“Good. So you’re completely over her then.” He couldn’t read her expression.
“I barely remember what she looked like. All I can see is a sexy brunette Fireball.” He wasn’t lying. Nyx took over his mind, making Hannah seem like a pale ghost from the distant past. The ironic thing was that Nyx understood him better in the short time they’d been together than Hannah had in the months he’d been involved with her.