Page 94 of Wicked Intention

Dead silence.

That’s when Zo arrived. She’d dressed in butter-yellow slacks, an ice-blue Oxford shirt, and a beige blazer. Her damp hair was pulled back in the same low ponytail her mom sported, she had makeup on—done subtly enough to almost appear natural—and she wore a silver beaded necklace. She looked professional as fuck. To spend time with her parents.

“Mom, Dad. This is a surprise. Did you close up the site early?”

Finn noticed there weren’t any hugs. Her parents remained at the island, and Zo stood near the kitchen, her expression polite. He wanted to go to her, wrap his arm around her, but he stayed put, uncertain how she’d feel about displaying affection in front of her folks.

“We worked as long as our permit allowed,” her mother said after taking a sip from her glass. “Fasten another button on your shirt, Zofia. Your cleavage is nearly visible.”

Zo did as ordered without hesitating, but Finn was getting pissed on her behalf. He had to stay out of this unless hisloquita sent the signal she wanted him to jump in. There were landmines present, and since he didn’t know the danger zones, he could easily trip one and make everything worse.

“How was your flight?” Zo asked.

“Bumpy.” Her father frowned. “Do you think yellow trousers are practical?”

Finn looked at Zo, but she didn’t glance his way. He bit his tongue. To keep himself occupied, he pulled out the waffle iron, plugged it in, and got a bowl down. The almond flour and coconut flour were in the pantry, but he didn’t move. It was located behind the kitchen, the door a couple of feet down the hall, but he was loath to leave her alone for even the thirty seconds it would take to retrieve the ingredients. Finn got out the eggs and vanilla instead and opened the drawer for the whisk.

“I’m not planning to leave the condo while I’m wearing them,” Zo said, her voice calm, polite. “I think the trousers will hold up.”

Owen Parker shrugged as if her answer meant nothing to him, and raised his glass.

“Finn makes a good smoothie, doesn’t he?”

Unable to delay any longer, he went to the pantry.

“It’s adequate,” her mother allowed as he opened the door and turned on the light.

He didn’t waste any time getting what he needed, but he shouldn’t have worried. The conversation remained cordial. And formal. Maybe it was because he was present. Finn was pretty sure her parents weren’t going to let his revelation about living here go uninterrogated, but it was becoming obvious they didn’t want him around when they did it.

Checking in on Zo as he worked, Finn measured the ingredients and mixed the batter. About the time he was ready to pour the first waffle on the iron, her mother said, “I think we’ll take a nap. You know I don’t sleep on planes.”

“Good idea, Mom.” Zo turned to him. “Finn, would youplease put their duffel in the guest room for me? They always stay in the green room.”

“Will do, loquita.”

Both her parents frowned at the endearment—he caught it from the corner of his eye—but Finn ignored it. Hefting the bag over his shoulder, he took it down the hall and deposited it near the packs.

“We’ll go out to dinner tonight,” her father was saying when Finn returned to the kitchen. Both Owen and Adelina were standing near the hallway now. Owen caught sight of him. “All four of us,” he added, and his tone made it clear he wasn’t enthusiastic about Finn’s presence.

“Pick a restaurant with a healthy menu, please,” Adelina said.

“Of course,” Zo agreed, and her parents headed off.

Finn remained motionless until he heard the door to the guest room close. He turned to Zo. Her face was pale but composed. Wooden, that was the word that came to mind. With a scowl, he quietly demanded, “What the actual fuck was that?”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Trujillo, Puerto Jardin

Present Day

FINN ARRIVED at the bar early and loitered until the table in the corner was available. It provided two walls for protection, and it also offered privacy. If anyone came near, it would be solely to eavesdrop because there was nothing else this direction. He looked aroundEl Taller, but it hadn’t improved in the two years since he’d met his team here for check-ins. It was still a dingy, seedy dive. The only difference he could see was it was at about half capacity. A lot of mercenaries were north of Rio Blanco because it was where things were hot at the moment.

There were plenty of people, though, enough that Finn stopping here and meeting mercenary buddies wouldn’t look odd. Ramos had sent several men to tail him, and both were up near the bar, trying to inconspicuously keep tabs on him. They were good, but two years hadn’t dulled his edge enough to miss his shadows.

If today followed the same schedule as the day before, Zo would be finishing dinner with Ramos about now. Finn frowned. Yesterday, he’d gotten back from his meeting with Silva in time to join them. Today, he had to meet with his captain.

And Zo was on her own with the drug lord.

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