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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

This was the only way to end the bloodshed.

Charlie had no idea if she was in the right place, but Sangre por Sangre ’s dilapidated headquarters had made headlines over the past two years. There had to be something here that would help make sense of this mess.

She angled the SUV Ivy Bardot had let her take alongside what remained of a parking garage. Boulders of cement and rebar blocked any kind of entrance, but Charlie had snuck into her fair share of construction sites over the years. She knew what to avoid, how to spot a building’s vulnerabilities and the general design of structures like this. Her head pounded as she stepped free of the vehicle.

Cool night air mingled with the sweat in her hair. She’d chugged three bottles of water and a couple of ibuprofen from the back cargo area to counter dehydration, but there was no guarantee her self-medicating would do any good. But tucking herself away in Socorro’s fortress only delayed the inevitable, and she was tired of hiding. Of pretending she’d made the right choice by running ten years ago. Charlie took that first step toward the building, one of the flashlights she’d found in the back in one hand. She couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in her gut that all of this—Erin’s death, her father’s suicide, the cartel’s plan for her—wasn’t as it seemed.

She needed the truth.

Hesitation wormed through her veins as she approached a hole where the cement hadn’t closed off a section of the underground parking garage. The flashlight beam skimmed over hard cracked earth, not revealing much other than snake holes and ant mounds. No signs anyone else was here. Or that she was walking into an ambush. She’d watched the site from the broken chain-link fence surrounding the property. If the cartel was still working out of this location, they’d somehow masked their vehicles, their footprints and their perimeter security.

“It’s now or never.” Charlie angled the flashlight toward the largest break in the debris. Her body ached as she climbed through the mouth and into the belly of the expansive building. Darkness spread out in front of her as the structure seemed to groan. Dust fell from the ceiling and slipped beneath the scrubs she was still wearing. This was a bad idea, but it was her only option. To get the truth about Erin. To protect Granger.

Drops of water pattered somewhere inside the collapsed section of garage and echoed off the walls, and her skin suddenly seemed too tight for her body. A vehicle had crumpled beneath the weight of the ceiling coming down off to her left, and Charlie couldn’t help but think one wrong move would deliver her the same fate. The sharp odor of fire and mold collected at the back of her throat. Parking garages didn’t usually stand alone. There had to be an entrance in the main building.

Debris caught on the toe of her boot. She lost her balance for a moment and cut the flashlight across the room. There. A corridor of some kind held its own against the weight of the collapsing structure. Charlie headed straight for it. “Here goes nothing.”

Water seeped from the ceiling. Flooding must’ve occurred upstairs. That explained the cloying scent of mold. Shards of cement flaked off as she ran her fingers against the wall. She followed the hallway to a T, swinging the flashlight from left to right. If the cartel was here, they could come and get her. Finish this. “Hello?”

Her voice seemed to echo on forever, and she suddenly found herself colder than a moment before. There was no way for her to search this entire building alone. Not without getting lost or injured in the process. Her vision swam, and she realized she’d been holding her breath for the past few seconds. She’d made her choice. She’d left Granger and the rest of the Socorro team behind in a twisted attempt to protect them, but the truth was she couldn’t even protect herself.

Not really. She’d expended massive amounts of energy trying to hide from the world, isolating herself, moving from one location to the next in an attempt to grant herself one more day of freedom. But it hadn’t done a damn bit of good. Because now she was alone. She’d burned the bridges that had sustained her through the past ten years, and no one was coming to fight for her.

Not even the one man she’d trusted to do the job. Granger had slid back into her life as effortlessly as he had the first time. With promises of protection and concern and respect. He’d been intense—more so than her father—in all the right ways, and had given her something she’d never been granted before: choice. He saw the things she’d tried hiding from her family and the people she’d been raised around, even those she’d tried to hide from herself. Was that what had pressed him to approach her all those years ago and offer her an escape? Had he seen that somewhere deep down she’d never believed in her father’s war, that she just wanted to experience the world outside of Vaughn for herself? Somehow, he’d come to know her better than anyone, and Charlie realized, standing in the basement of a crumbling building, surrounded by the putrid stench of death and destruction, she’d never really wanted to be alone after all. She’d just been waiting for him.

Because she was still in love with Granger. Recklessly, ridiculously and resolutely in love with the counterterrorism agent who’d gifted her more than an escape plan ten years ago. He’d given her strength and purpose and trust. Something far more valuable than the inside intel she’d handed over as his confidential informant.

And she’d thrown all of it away out of fear.

Just as she was doing now.

Granger prided himself on never making the same mistake twice. Why was it she couldn’t learn from hers?

Charlie directed her attention to the left and followed the corridor as far as it would take her. The power was off, casting her into darkness aside from her flashlight, and it felt as though the walls were slowly closing in. Which was impossible. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Making her feel as though she were being watched. Like the floor was moving.

There was nothing here, and if there was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stick around to find it. She backed out the way she’d come.

She’d made a mistake coming here. She saw that now. Charlie picked up the pace, trying to remember the turns she’d taken. There were so many, just as there had been in the Socorro headquarters. The hallways weren’t meant to make the building easier to navigate. They’d been designed to keep people in, and she felt as though she’d stepped into a prison of her own free will.

Panic clawed at the edges of her mind. Her bones ached, the muscles in her legs had tightened to the point they were pulling on the tendons in the backs of her heels. She couldn’t see save for a few feet in front of her, and Charlie could’ve sworn the shadows up ahead had moved.

She was delirious. Most likely from dehydration and a head injury and the emotions that came from watching her father take his own life right in front of her. It’d all caught up with her, despite her determination to keep running. To never feel as though she couldn’t win.

“Let me out of here!” Her own voice echoed back to her as she turned another corner. They all looked the same. Had she come this way? Why the hell hadn’t she brought crumbs to mark the way out? Charlie misidentified a corner up ahead. Her shoulder slammed right into it, jarring her back into the moment. Cement crumbled in her hand as she pushed away from the wall. “I want out.”

The building moaned as though it’d heard her pleas and mocked them back to her.

She wanted nothing more in that moment than the assurance of her partner and his obese dog. For Granger to tell her they were going to get out of this together. There hadn’t been a single moment in the past three days she’d felt as empty and lonely as she did now. She’d always had her sisters or her father or the entire town of Vaughn on her side, even the counterterrorism agent who’d used her for nothing but information. But now? Now she truly had lost everything and everyone she’d convinced herself she could live without. And found she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. She didn’t want her freedom if it meant isolation. She wanted Granger and Zeus and even Ivy Bardot to have her back. She wanted to be the one the families of her victims could look at and forgive. She wanted a life. “Can anyone hear me? Hello?”

“I hear you,” a voice said from the darkness.

Charlie recognized that voice. Though she’d hoped she’d never have to hear it again. She raised the flashlight, but there was no one there. It’d been so clear. So close. Swinging the beam to her left, she followed the corridor. Had her brain played another trick on her? Had she really become so desperate, it’d supplied something for her to focus on? No. It’d been real. “You know why I’m here. I want this to stop.”

Her hand shook as she glanced back over her shoulder. The atmosphere had shifted. No longer cold and dark and damp, sweat built under her arms and at the back of her neck.

“That’s not for you to decide, Charlie.” The words filtered in from the right, but they couldn’t have. Nothing but a wall faced her. He was playing games with her. “We’re all just following orders here, even you.”

“I don’t give a damn about your orders.” Charlie stopped dead as the corridor opened into a wide alcove. The floor was bare, but her flashlight beam picked up stains of brown spreading out from epicenters. Five, maybe six, in total. Blood. “So you can stop playing your mind games and tell me what the hell the cartel wants me for.”

A whisper of an exhale brushed against the back of her neck. “But we were just beginning to have some fun.”

Charlie turned, flashlight raised to defend herself.

Pain shot across her face, and the world went black.

* * *

Granger floored the accelerator .

The GPS in Charlie’s SUV hadn’t moved in the past thirty minutes. She’d headed straight for the abandoned Sangre por Sangre headquarters, feeding into the doubts Ivy wanted him to have. But Granger knew her. He knew her better than anyone on his team. “Give me an update.”

The sound of Zeus’s collar registered from the back seat as though the K9 was waiting for an answer too.

“The GPS hasn’t budged.” Ivy pressed another bullet into the magazine in her lap. Uneven landscape threatened to tip the ammunition and her weapon to the floor, but she’d done this thousands of times in a thousand different scenarios. She slammed the magazine into the base of her weapon and holstered it alongside her rib cage. “It doesn’t mean she’s still there, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to—wait. The signal just cut out.”

“The cartel must’ve figured out the SUV is one of ours.” Granger had never known Ivy to join any of her operatives in the field, but with the final stage of eliminating Sangre por Sangre , the agent had apparently taken it upon herself to see the job through. “She’ll be there. And I’ll prove she’s not the one behind this.”

“You’re letting your emotions for Charlie get in the way of your assignment, Granger.” Ivy kept her attention out the windshield, completely devoid of personality when faced with whatever waited for them at the end of this field trip. “You need to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

“You’re right. I am emotional, especially when it comes to her.” Granger did what he did best: keeping his voice even while every cell in his body threatened to break apart. “It was my emotions that led me to take a chance on Henry Acker’s daughter and turn her into a confidential informant. Without Charlie, Homeland Security never would’ve gotten the intel about the Alamo pipeline attack and dozens more people might’ve been injured or killed in the process. It was also my emotions for her that kept me from turning into someone I didn’t recognize after I lost my position with the government. She’s the one I had on my mind when I heard about a private military contractor looking for operatives, and the one I thought about when I found Scarlett at the wrong end of a knife on that base four years ago. I let Charlie down when she needed me the most, and I promised I would never fail anyone else again. So yeah, I’m letting my emotions for her get in the way of my job. Because she’s the reason I fight for people in the first place.”

Ivy didn’t respond to that and turned her gaze out the passenger side window.

“I know you believe our emotions shouldn’t have priority when we’re in the field, Ivy, and that policy might’ve worked for you to some extent when you were with the FBI,” he said. “But if we’re going to dismantle Sangre por Sangre for good, we can’t be like them. We have to keep the parts of us that make us human, that make us better.”

They drove the rest of the miles in silence.

Granger rolled up to the barbed chain-link fence standing as a warning to those who entered and surveyed the property. Sangre por Sangre ’s headquarters had been built at the bottom of a manmade crater, a protective layer meant to mask the structure from satellite imagery and keep the cartel off law enforcement’s visual radar. He could barely make out the curve of the roof from this distance, but something in his gut told him Charlie was still inside.

She was the key to this whole puzzle, and no matter what Ivy or the rest of his team believed, or how determined Charlie had been to undermine her father’s army, she’d never put anyone’s life at risk to achieve that goal. The pain of her past mistakes wouldn’t let her, and Granger loved her for that. Loved every fiber of her stubborn, perfectionist, passionate being. He was pretty sure he’d never stopped loving her, but these past three days had driven that reality to a point he couldn’t shove it down anymore.

Because when it came right down to it, she would sacrifice herself to save someone else. How many operatives on his team would do that for the strangers they tried to protect? Charlie fought for what she believed in, but more importantly, she was afraid of being as corrupt as Henry Acker, and there wasn’t a single cell in his body that could believe her responsible for this mess. Whatever was going on, she was just as much a victim as the innocent lives taken the night of the Alamo pipeline attack.

He loved Charlie, and he would do whatever it took to give her the future she deserved. One with him and a fat bull terrier at her side. If she would have him.

Granger let the SUV crawl forward, every instinct he owned on high alert. The south side of the building came into the windshield’s frame, and his gut clenched. “This place is on its last legs. If Charlie’s in there, she doesn’t have long before the whole structure comes down on top of her.”

“Then we better get moving.” Ivy hit the dirt, using her door panel as cover until they cleared the path leading down into the manmade dust bowl.

Unholstering his weapon, Granger followed her lead as they skidded down the incline. Large chunks of debris and metal scattered across the eighth of mile between the edge of the crater and the building itself. A minefield perfect for an ambush. Except the closer they got to the building, the chances of a surprise attack decreased. “Cash sure made a mess of this place.”

And Granger couldn’t fault his teammate for that. Not anymore. Socorro’s forward scout had literally torn apart an entire building to get to the woman he loved. And Granger would bring the rest of this place down if that was the way to get Charlie back.

They worked their way to what looked to be the remains of an underground parking garage. It was a miracle the structure hadn’t collapsed in on itself in this condition, but he would take every second they had left. He and Ivy moved as one, her taking up the rear in case they were attacked from behind. He broke through the perimeter of the garage, dodging massive sections of cement twice his height, and scanned what he could see of the interior. “Clear.”

Ivy carved a path over broken asphalt, debris and puddles of water. “There’s an entrance on the back wall.” She didn’t wait for him to acknowledge, cutting across the remains of the garage, and took position at one side of the door. She waited for him, then nodded.

Granger raised his weapon at an angle. The battle--ready tension he’d relied on as he and Charlie had crossed the border into Vaughn snapped into place. Working the plan, learning who the players were and getting the upper hand—this was what he’d been trained for. What he was good at, and up until three days ago, he’d done his job on autopilot. Now he had a goal: to find the woman who made him want to keep going.

He whistled low to call Zeus to heel as the building seemed to swallow them. Hitting the power button to the flashlight along the barrel of his weapon, Granger lit up the few feet ahead of them. The scent of death and humidity burned down his throat. “Find Charlie, Zeus.”

The dog trotted ahead, nose to the ground, his belly swinging back and forth with every step. There were so many competing smells in Granger’s senses, he wasn’t sure how the K9 would manage to pick Charlie out from among them, but Granger trusted his partner to make the connection.

A low ruff tightened the muscles down the bull terrier’s back.

“He can’t pick up her scent.” Damn it. He’d known that was a possibility, but the stakes were higher than ever. Granger caught up with Zeus and scratched the dog between his ears. “There’s too much interference.”

“Then we’re on our own.” Ivy maneuvered ahead, coming up short of a T in the maze. “Which way?”

One wrong turn and they could lose Charlie forever. Granger wasn’t willing to take that risk. “Every time we second-guess ourselves, Charlie is in more danger. We can’t wander around in the dark. We need a plan. We need to split up. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“And if you’re wrong about this whole thing and Charlie is the one pulling the cartel’s strings? We still don’t know what Sangre por Sangre is planning.” Ivy searched down the right corridor for signs of a threat. “Who’s going to save your ass? Because the way I see things, your K9 would rather eat you than protect you.”

“That’s ridiculous. He’s not a cannibal. He just has no control over what goes in his stomach and shaming him isn’t going to speed the process along.” Granger was avoiding the question, and they both knew it. He didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility Charlie had led them into a trap, but he’d be a fool not to account for his own blind spots. “If you’re right, and Charlie is the one behind this, I’ll do what I have to. Until then, I’m going to operate on the belief she needs my help.”

Ivy lowered her weapon and stretched out one hand. “That’s one of the reasons I hired you. See you on the other side, Agent Morais.”

“Agent Bardot.” He shook her hand, knowing that his superior had been fighting her own internal battle since receiving the cartel’s surveillance photos of Charlie. The man she’d known as her partner during her stint with the FBI hadn’t resurfaced, despite the crumbling of Sangre por Sangre ’s organization, and Granger couldn’t help but think that meant one of two things. Either the agent had chosen to remain loyal to the people he was investigating, or she’d find him dead.

Ivy nodded before heading down the right corridor, leaving Granger to search the left.

“It’s you and me, kid.” He took the lead. The building seemed to come alive with a groan as they traveled deeper into its heart. Whatever waited for them at the end, Granger was ready.

His future was with Charlie.

And he’d fight like hell to keep it.