Page 95 of Hearts Of Darkness

“Evie!”

Evie?

We turn together, Eve from recognition and me, thankful for a respite from this irritating-as-fuck argument. A tall, vaguely familiar-looking man in his mid-fifties is crossing the road in front of my SUV and smiling in delight at my angel.

I cast a practiced eye over him, taking in everything. Joseph has exited the car discreetly and is doing the same. He’s a handsome guy, but there are lines on his face that can’t be attributed to age alone. My guess is they’re a fairly recent acquisition. His body is lean and firm,the man works out, but he’s favoring his left arm. As I watch, he shifts his shopping bag to his other hand and winces from the movement.

He never takes his eyes off Eve’s face, so I go to put a possessive hand on her arm. To my intense fury, she swerves away, and I swipe thin air instead.She’s definitely getting punished hard for that.

I watch him clock the gesture. A slight frown forms as his eyes travel north to fix on mine. Bam. I recognize him instantly, but not a muscle in my face betrays my shock. I could pick out those eyes from fifty yards away.

This should be interesting…

My gaze shifts to Joseph, who is already reaching underneath his shirt. I shake my head. No bloodshed in this neighborhood. Not in front of Eve. I’m just going to have tofront this out.

“Please, Dante,” I hear her plead quietly. There’s no playfulness in her voice anymore. She sounds scared, panicked.Conflicted.Her two worlds are colliding in the worst possible way. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll buy whatever damn dress you want. Promise me. You have to promise me.”

I say nothing. I can’t give her any assurances. If this all turns to shit, there’s only one outcome.

“Evie, sweetheart, what brings you to this side of town?” Her father’s face splits in delight as he throws his good arm around her shoulders, forcing me to take a step back from this intrusion into my personal space and frommyfucking property. “That’s an interesting outfit you’re wearing. I’m not even gonna try and understand fashion these days. Are you and Manuel still on for dinner tomorrow night? I’m planning on cooking my world-famous rib surprise. Your Mom’s already griping about the cleaning-up, so I thought I’d buy her a little something to sweeten the deal.” He chuckles at his own bad humor and rattles the black Gucci bag in his hand.

Manuel and Eve on a happy family dinner date?

Perhaps I need to break the other side of my young recruit’s face to remind him about his fucking boundaries…

“Thanks, Dad, sounds great,” mumbles Eve, disentangling herself.

Myers’ gaze shifts to me again. I watch him take in my olive skin, dark hair, expensive car, clothes, and bodyguards. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, his smile freezing, his voice notably cooler, but he extends his hand to me anyway. The man has manners and I respect that. “Robert Myers.”

“Sebastian Días,” I say, taking it, giving nothing away.Not betraying for a single moment that a couple of months ago I had my gun pointed at his head, but I chose to abduct his daughter instead; that five years ago I drove his only son to suicide; that I’m currently Enemy Number One for his beloved DEA. This guy would tear me apart with his bare hands if he knew the half of it.

Eve’s fear is palpable. Her eyes keep darting back and forth between us. Joseph hasn’t moved. He’s still standing by the open car door, ready to attack if required. I know Tomas is, too. He’s shifted position to the driver’s seat. His hand is on the ignition. If we need to get out of here fast, he’s the man to make it happen.

“So, how do you two know each other?” says Myers, smiling at his daughter again, blissfully unaware of the cataclysmic fall-out awaiting him if he so much as breathes on me the wrong way.

“We have a mutual work colleague,” I say smoothly. “Or should that beformerwork colleague…”

The flash of annoyance on his face tells me exactly how he feels about his daughter quitting her job.

“Don’t start, Dad,” she murmurs, catching sight of it, too.

“Iwillstart, Evie,” he says crossly. “You’re a fine writer. Your articles were doing the work of ten of my agents.”

She shakes her head and stares at the sidewalk.

“Something’s going down baby. There’s some kind of power struggle at the top.” Myers lowers his voice a fraction to deliver this insightful splinter of information. “My hunch is you had ‘em running scared. Don’t walk away now. You’ve worked too hard.”

There’s an awkward silence, the kind that makes me wantto carve my initials into my skin for some light relief before he’s pulling himself together.

“Forgive me, Mr. Días. I can be a little too proud of my daughter sometimes. Have you kids of your own?”

There’s another pause, and then I’m shaking my head.

Myers shrugs. “Perhaps one day you’ll understand. Anyway, I’ll see you and Manuel tomorrow.” He leans over to peck Eve on the cheek. “It was good meeting you, Mr. Días.” He’s lying through his teeth. He’s getting a bad vibe off me, like he should.

We watch him double-back across the street and climb into his wholesome family-friendly Chrysler. A minute later, he’s pulling away from the curb, and waving briefly at us as he passes.

“Dante.”

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