Page 38 of Devil's Property

“Ouch,” Kruz sputtered.

Jago dropped and shook his head. “You know what you need? A good woman in your life. Balance. Speaking of which, did you learn anything of use in your conversation with your guest?”

With the vial still in my hand, I tipped my head. I certainly wasn’t going to mention my personal faux pas with the woman. “She mentioned her father suddenly started workingfor a Mexican Cartel leader. Maybe. While I understand her assumptions, they are farfetched.”

“Unless she knows more than she’s telling you,” Jago suggested. “Employed as what?”

“An accountant.” There was no way that was possible.

“But you don’t believe her?” Kruz tossed out.

“She’s absolutely holding something from me. She’s still not convinced I didn’t kidnap her sister. Which makes me question how Eduardo is involved.”

Jago took a deep breath as he studied the work area. “A question that will need an answer. Unfortunately, that will need to wait until tomorrow. The hospital visiting hours are over. Don’t worry, my cousin isn’t going anywhere.”

Whoever had pulled the trigger had done a good job of keeping the man incapacitated.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” Jago added.

“A couple things. Have you thought about how personal this vendetta is with Fassi? It dawned on me because everything Fallon has done up to this point, including almost getting herself killed was because the situation was extremely personal.”

Jago studied me carefully. “You’re wondering why Fassi made so many mistakes.”

Kruz sighed. “Navarro has a point. Fassi has a fucking army that outnumbers ours by several hundred. If he wanted us dead, it should have been easy for him.”

Jago looked from Kruz back to me. “Unless he’s toying with us.”

“Maybe a little of both.” I wasn’t entirely certain what I was getting at, but someone had gone to a significant amount of trouble to lure Fallon into Mexico. And it sure as shit wasn’t the Alcarez brigade.

“Worth thinking about,” Jago said.

Maybe I’d grown weary of the violence. Or maybe I was hungry for round two with my guest, but I was ready to get the fuck out of here.

“What else?” Jago pressed.

“Have you ever had the feeling you’ve met someone before?”

“A few times. The woman?”

I nodded. “For whatever reason, her accusations are very personal, but I cannot believe a woman of her intelligence would drop everything and head to a foreign country on the hopes she’d run into me. There must be more to her story, a past that somehow connects us.”

Jago narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to meet her? Maybe I’d recognize her.”

“Not yet. She’ll break for me. Our connection is oddly strong, but I still need to develop some trust. Unless she kills me first,” I teased. “I also need to check her story and find out more about her father and her background.” I glanced toward the scientific equipment again, allowing a few unwanted memories to return. “Is your father in Barcelona?” Rafael Torres was the patriarch who’d basically rebuilt his empire after the betrayal of the man’s best friend twenty plus years ago. He was still a formidable man who’d orchestrated Jago’s marriage.

“Coming back to town tomorrow, I believe. Why?” Jago asked.

“I might need to talk to him.”

“About?”

“History. Don’t forget, he picked me up off my ass and forced me to endure some brutal training.” The truth was I doubted I’d still be alive if Rafael hadn’t pulled me up by my bootstraps, giving me purpose, training, and the desire to serve his regime exclusively.

Jago moved closer. “I’d like to know what you’re thinking.”

I glanced at the other soldiers, Kruz excluded. He knew the subtle gesture. Even with entrusted men, we’d all learned the hard way that loyalty was easily bought, enough so betrayal had affected all our lives.

“Understood,” he said, still looking at me quizzically.