Page 44 of The Truths that Deceive

“Will you let me go? If I promise to turn myself in. I-I have something I need to do.”

He leans in and kisses me soft and long. Then he raises his head, takes the knife from my nerveless fingers, and hurls it across the room where it embeds into the wall, the handle vibrating.

“Fuck no,” he growls. “You run, you eventryto run, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Chapter 13

Smith

Rodriguez is an old asset of mine. I trust him enough—about as much as I trust any non-Knight.

Throwing the knife, losing my temper like that… it’s not me. I keep everything tucked up, compartmentalized. But there was something about how she got in too close to things I didn’t want uncovered, or rather, how I let her. No one had a fucking gun to my head.

Dakota’s normally off-limits for conversation. Jones knows enough of the story. Orion knows whatever he needs to know, as do the others. But there are some Knights who don’t know a thing and I kept my relationship with Dakota fractured for a lot of reasons.

So why I even told this fucking child a thing about it is beyond me.

And then I let myself soften toward her, like I’m losing my motherfucking mind.

I’m violent, primal, a hunter with no conscience. My sex games are so much more than what Calista’s ever seen. Most ofthe time, my kind of D/s play is wrapped up in clearly spelled-out rules.

But with her, I don’t want any rules governing my actions. I want it elemental.

I want her as mine to pull apart and devour.

I grit my teeth. Like I said, I’m losing my fucking mind.

Rodriguez and Sofia are heading to their home and farm a few miles down the road. This mission is on their property but on the edges, a place where very dark things have gone down. In the next week, it’ll be occupied by the militia, men waiting for a war that might not even happen.

If it doesn’t, they’ll move the cocoa leaf crops as planned. Some might say to just put a stop to this kind of farming altogether, but it’s not my place to give a damn. If rich fucks want to snort cocaine, then let them. I’m not being paid to stop it.

But if trafficking young girls enters the picture, and it’s likely that’s the case, then I’m here to shut it the fuck down. One of the other Knights has an operation to stop an outpost in another region of this tiny, troubled country.

The CIA is looking into things in Central America, but they have the wrong intel. Maybe it was crafted to misguide them, either deliberately or by accident. I don’t fucking know, and I need to find out. And I can’t let Calista go until I can piece this whole thing together. I need to know what she knows and she’ll stay with me for as long as it takes her to divulge it.

The mere mention of Belize only got the mildest of reactions back home. But the most I’ve seen was the expression on Calista’s face after Sofia mentioned it. That’s how I know I’m onto something here. And it’s more proof that I can’t let her go. Not just yet.

I’m gathering clues and she’s my map.

“Thanks.” I put my feet up on a wooden stool as I recline back in a chair outside. Narrowing my eyes at the satellite-linked laptop from Rodriguez, I shoot off a message to Jones using Harry’s Fix It—the Knight’s messaging system that masquerades as a boring little store. We all know the codes and what they mean but nobody else would have a clue.

Need some pipes looked at. Possible leak. This week?

It doesn’t take long to get a response.Tuesday, ten a.m.

Sounds good,I message back.Book it.

“Trouble?”

“Nah, just some boring crap at home.” I don’t look up as I send the message. I shut down the messaging app, close the laptop lid, and hand the computer back to Rodriguez.

Jones’ll have a small plane waiting for me. I can’t fly my own jet since we’ll be operating under the radar. I just need to tell him when and where. But now he knows my location. And if Rodriguez tries to sell me out, he’ll have that information, too. The laptop was no doubt being tracked by the IP address from the second Jones got my first message.

Even if Rodriguez just looks up what I did, he’ll just see a front business that handles mundane plumbing issues.

Some might say using his computer’s a risk. But I prefer that to using my phone. That’s for emergencies and for me to tell Jones where I am when I need the help.IfI need the help. Using it for anything more is too big of a risk, one I’m not willing to take.

Dinner is spicy and good. My little reluctant captive is quiet, not that I blame her. The closer we get to the handoff, the more real her problems become and the tighter the noose around her neck becomes.

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