Page 106 of Roaming Holiday

“I’m getting her back—I need you to trust me, all right?” My phone buzzes with a call from Noah. I start walking away, but Maia follows closely with Jack and Mason not far behind.

“Trust you? Do you know where they might be going? What are you?—”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jack scolds.

I ignore them and spot Noah from outside the royal guard’s perimeter. He steps out of the gray R8 Audi and I take his spot, flipping into reverse without answering a single question.

I hold the phone to my ear. “Where do you want to meet?”

“That’s not how you greet people,” Daria tsks. “We talked about this.”

“Considering you’re a narcissist with control issues, I’m assuming you won’t tell me where Arlo took Nina over the phone. Where are you?”

She chuckles. “Niko Elias Park. Under the northeast bridge.”

I step on the gas as she hangs up.

I was never in love with Daria; she was far too embedded in the underground. Her priorities were always on the next job, anything to get her ahead.

I drive into the park the furthest I can. It’s a cloudless, sweltering day, meaning most people are inside. Locals, at least. Tourists continue traipsing. I twist a silencer on a .9 millimeter as I head to the bridge, my chest burning. Every second that Arlo has Nina is another step toward my becoming El Revalté again. I wanted to keep my two worlds as far apart as possible. But I can’t leave El Revalté behind yet.

“Tell me where he’s taking her,” I call while walking into the tunnel.

Daria turns to me with a huff. “Is she really worth?—”

Without stopping, I cut her off with a bullet to her knee. Her howls echo. Before she collapses, I catch her with my forearm against her throat, shoving her back into the brick wall. I press the gun between her ribs lest she reach into her pockets. She releases a strangled sound, clawing her manicured fingers at my shoulders.

I keep a stony gaze as panic fills her eyes. She knows I don’t hurt women and intended to take advantage of that.

All bets are off when it comes to Nina.

“When I remove my arm, you’re going to tell me where Arlo is taking her. If you don’t, then I will do this”—I increase pressure on her trachea, hearing it crunch—“and watch you die.”

She looks as if she doesn’t recognize me. Good. I release just enough pressure for her to speak. Her strained breath is almost pathetic. “He’s—moving her from… the Magnolia in th-thirty min?—”

Thirty minutes. The Magnolia is almost ten away.

I drop her to the ground and head back to where I came from. She’ll warn Arlo within minutes, and then he’ll take Nina somewhere else. Somewhere unattainable. So I aim at Daria’s head and pull the trigger.

My phone rings nonstop, each one ignored.

I check all building exits and find a black SUV out front, confirming where they’ll be leaving. The only rooftop with tactical advantage is across the street and three buildings down. It should give me four hundred yards. It’s a buzz-door apartment building where the roof has a wall perimeter.

I check my timer. Thirteen more minutes.

The wound on my chest throbs with my pounding heart. I unzip the duffle bag, pull out a Remington 700, and load in a few .308 rounds before sliding the bolt forward and locking it. I prop the rifle on the ledge and peek through the reticle at the front entrance. Four hundred yards confirmed. I adjust the scope. Two left. One down.

My phone rings again. I answer it without looking. “Jack.”

“It’s about damn time,” he growls. “What are you doing in Milagro?”

He’s been tracking me. Hopefully that means he’s not far behind, but I couldn’t risk him and the guard making a scene by infiltrating. Those get bloody.

“She’s being moved from Magnolia apartments in eight minutes. Come quietly.”

“Wait—”

I hang up and slip my phone into my pocket. I settle into the weight of the gun in my arms, its familiarity reminding me of a life I no longer want.

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