Page 28 of Wait for You

For once, Julio kept quiet. “Follow me, and you’ll find out.”

While Mat trailed the shorter man up a flight of stairs, then through a living space in the main house, his thoughts raced with potential scenarios. He’d been prepared to die when he took this assignment, but now that he’d found Imogen again, he’d much rather live.

Julio opened a sliding glass door leading down a paved walkway to the two-story boathouse perched on the water’s edge. The same design prevailed with its cedar logs and slate trim, connecting the two buildings seamlessly. Birds chirped overhead, welcoming the morning sun. Unaware anything sinister lurked beneath its rays.

If Mat’s cover had been blown, he was walking into a trap. Despite the smell of flowers blooming on the bushes they passed or the sight of the blue water stretched out in front of him, he couldn’t shake the ominous feeling twisting his insides.

Just like at the main house, cameras watched every move here. The dark gray door opened before Julio had to knock. One of the lieutenant’s men stepped aside without a word as they entered. The main floor of the boathouse had an open design plan with a wall of windows looking out onto the lake. They had to be tinted; otherwise, the reflections of the sunbeams off the water would’ve been blinding.El Jaguarstood gazing out at the view.

He turned when they approached. “Where have you been?”

Julio retreated, leaving Mat in the proverbial hot seat. His palms started to sweat, but he kept the fear from his voice. “Searchin’ for you,patrón.”

The lieutenant had multiple safehouses. It wasn’t unreasonable to think Mat had spent the last twelve hours looking for the right one.

“That might be the first time you’ve lied to me, Mateo.” Instead of appearing angry about it,El Jaguarsmiled. “Tell me, what happened to the daring dancer you had on your arm at the party? I wouldn’t have minded spending more time with that littlemuñeca. . .”

Mat grinned in response. His cover remained intact if the lieutenant thought he was late to arrive because he’d been shacked up with that ‘doll’. “She mighta had somethin’ to do with my delay.” Hoping the disgust he slung came across as legitimate to protect Imogen, Mat shrugged. “But I sent thatputapackin’. A couple of fucks, and she was already hearin’ weddin’ bells.”

El Jaguar’sexpression changed. The benevolence leaked from his eyes, turning them into hard, dark pools. “Smart man.” He moved away from the window, and Mat followed through the living area down a set of cedar steps to the lower level.

No natural light shone in here. They were below ground; the windowless space had been carved into the hillside above the lake. Plastic covered the bare cement floor, telling Mat this room’s purpose—interrogation . . . by way of torture.

Driving that point home, a man sat bound to a chair in its center. His head hung as if he were unconscious, but Mat couldn’t tell for sure with the sack covering it. This had to be the man from the party. The oneEl Jaguarhad planned to burn alive.

The lieutenant stopped at the plastic’s edge and gestured at the captive. “Can you tell me who this is?”

Swallowing down the bile that rose up his throat, Mat answered, “El Traidor.”

“Sí, but what is his name?” The lieutenant’s voice might be even, but Mat was well aware of the menacing undertone. He didn’t have the answer, and failure meant death.

Adrenaline raced through his veins, threatening to make him twitchy. He kept the strain from his voice when he said, “I don’t know,patrón.”

“You failed me, Mateo. But I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself.” His smile was as sharp as a knife’s edge. “I need to know what this little shit knows. Why he’s been hiding withLos Lobos. You tell me that, and your position is safe”—the lieutenant shrugged—“for now.”

The lasso around Mat’s chest loosened a fraction. At least he wasn’t about to die right this minute. But he had no clue who this man was or what he would’ve witnessed to seek protection from the Lonewolves.

Mat had never met anyone from their organization. They were far more secretive and far less widespread than the cartels. He’d only ever heard rumors about the group. Many saw them as bandits—freelancers who stuck to gunrunning, document forgery, and human trafficking. They’d also hide you from the cartel . . . for a hefty price.

Whoever the hooded man was—judging by his fancy shoes—he’d been able to afford it. Mat glanced from the traitor to the lieutenant and nodded in response.

El Jaguarseemed satisfied with Mat’s compliance. He stepped onto the plastic, but the man didn’t stir as it crunched under the lieutenant’s shoes. When he reached the hooded figure,El Jaguarpulled the burlap off the man’s head, and Mat’s stomach crashed through the floor, then splashed into the lake.

“El Traidor” was Emiliano Sanchez . . .Imogen’s brother.

???

Imogen

Imogen paced around the living room, eyes drawing to the windows to check for Mat. She’d been waiting all day for him to return, and the longer it took, the more anxious she became. Restless energy buzzed through her like livewires. She had to keep moving or scream. While she paced, her nightmare kept playing on repeat in her head.

What if Mat hadn’t come back becauseEl Jaguarhad him killed?

Even thinking it strangled all the air from her lungs. She gasped in a breath and shook her head as she paced the length of the couch. The best thing she could do was stay positive. Matwouldreturn.

Any minute.

But one minute stretched into two, then four, then seven, ushered along by the tick-tock of an old clock hanging on the kitchen wall. She ought to turn on the television or some music so it wasn’t the only sound in the empty house.

---