Page 6 of Lethal Vengeance

Thirty minutes later, we’re back on the road.

When I pull into the Walmart parking lot, they’re asleep. Hurrying into the store, I grab a pack of clear adhesive dots and checkout. Once back in the van, I toss the pack into the passenger seat and get back to the route. This delivery is on a schedule, and missing the deadline is not an option.

We’re thirty minutes from the private airstrip when I pull into a gas station. After filling up, I realize this is my last opportunity to turn around. I look at each of the girls, but I don’t see their unique, beautiful features.

I see her. Sophia. My beautiful, sweet sister. Bruises all over her body. A long scar across her stomach. Raped. Naked. Splayed out in the desert sand like some sort of sacrifice. Her mahogany brown eyes staring at the midday sun.

Swallowing the bile rising in the back of my throat, I slip into the back of the van and inject each of them with a tracker. With a flick of my wrist, I sweep back their hair and stick the decoy tracker behind their ear. If they scan them, I’m hoping they will stop searching after finding the latter.

Such beautiful, innocent faces. I snap a picture of each of them and vow to find a way to save them. Even if I’m dead, I’ll find a way.

Today’s price is steep, but vengeance is a demanding bastard. Payment must be paid. A chunk of my soul withers and dies.

4

QUINN

With carefully measured steps, I make my way to the polished black bar and slide onto a plush velvet stool with a relieved sigh. Between the shots of tequila and the high heels, walking here was like navigating an obstacle course blind.

My fingers stroke the soft nubby texture on my seat while I scan the restaurant. I’ve passed by this place many times, but never entered, preferring Cantina Iguana where I could comfortably sit and plot my vengeance without anyone noticing me.

This place is the polar opposite of my favorite dive bar, with its dark, musty interior. Here, the ambiance is inviting, with luxurious furnishings and soft, subtle lighting. It’s popular and packed with gorgeous people, their laughter light and infectious, as if they have few cares in the world.

It’s the perfect escape from the sordidness of my life.

A good-looking, dark-haired man two stools down catches my eye.

Hmm, maybe it has more to offer than I thought,I muse.

A beautiful blond woman strides up to the barstool beside him and kisses his cheek. “Sorry, I’m late, darling.”

A wry smile slides across my lips.

Luck doesn’t favor the wicked.

My smile fades, and my throat burns for another shot.

I chose to embrace this life full of dark deeds, each one worse than the last. And somewhere along the way, I made a strange temporary peace with myself by promising the end would be worth it. But now, I’m not sure it will. The last job splintered my soul into the tiniest of pieces, and I doubt I’ll ever find them all, much less be able to glue them back together.

The trackers are not foolproof, but they were the best I could do under the circumstances. I immediately alerted my contacts at the FBI, but I can only hope they get to them before too much damage is done.

The entire drive home, I couldn’t help but wonder how they transported Sophia. Snatched from the San Antonio River Walk when she was nineteen years old, did they toss her into a van with several other girls? We scoured every inch of the River Walk’s fifteen miles and watched hours and hours of video. Nothing. Not one clue or shred of evidence.

If we had seen a van, we would’ve noticed it, right?

To my intense frustration, I couldn’t remember.

Minutes after returning to Monterrey, I was online combing through all my files and notes. It took several hours, but I confirmed it—no van.

“Would you like something to drink?”

A handsome young bartender stands behind the bar waiting for an answer.

“Casamigos Blanco, chilled.” The world sways a bit. “A water and a menu, please.”

Moments later, the drinks sit in front of me.

With a trembling hand, I down the glass of water, then the shot. I’d intended to save the tequila until I got some food, but the thoughts and images swirling in my brain won’t stop.