Page 80 of The Perfect Stranger

“I possess ultimate control in everything I do.” I sat back, zipping my pants with my head warring.

Just say it.

“Let’s go to Mexico and finish this.”

She stilled, a slight frown forming.

“Jair, I don’t even know who the enemy is, and you expect me to fight.”

“But they know us. Now’s our time to turn the tables.”

She sucked in her bottom lip and bit hard. I could see her internal struggle, and I was an asshole for not ending it.

“I cross the border, I lose all help from the US.”

“You have me.” I may be the villain in the end, but I would get her home safe. “Besides…” I continued, “…it seems your agency has already cut you from the family.”

She shook her head, eyes reddening. “I can’t.”

Her decision was final.

I felt for her.

I didn’t want it to be this way.

Turning my back to Nina, I poured two glasses of champagne and sprinkled some of the white powder into one of the glasses. It dissolved within seconds.

I’m sorry Nina.

I handed her a glass, innocent eyes looking as beautiful as ever. “Salud,” I said, holding her gaze.

With a need to quell her anxiety, she took three long mouthfuls of champagne. That was going to hit her quicker than I expected. I wanted to knock the glass from her hand, to have her vomit up the contents. But it was too late.

“You’re an enigma,” she began.

“Oh?”

“I haven’t even come close to figuring you out.” She frowned, shaking her head slightly. The drug was taking effect. “I can’t decide if I should fear or trust you.”

Both.

“Cariña, maybe you’re right,” I began, placing my glass on the table. “You see, I’m not entirely good. I’m not entirely bad. But I’m enough of a little of each to ruin you.”

She recoiled, slow from the drugs, but almost like I had slapped her.

“What did you just say?”

She made to move, looking around for her clothes, but she fumbled. She was nauseated and unsure what to do.

Knowing time was limited, and I didn’t want her still naked when it happened, I turned to pick her shirt off the ground. When I faced her again, her eyes were wide with horror, all color long since drained from her face. She seemed focused on one thing, desperately in her haze trying to see it again.

My tattoo.

I had many, but only one caught her attention.

One she had seen before.

One that belonged to the enemy hunting her down.

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