Page 76 of Desire Me
Saint’s heart stopped, and he palmed his crucifix through his clothes. Jesus Christ, how many times had he almost lost her before she’d ever been found?
The area between the building and the docks a distance away appeared to be an unlit, haphazard parking/storage area. Saint signaled his team to spread out, and one by one they melted into the darkness. He knew they weren’t far away, would track his and Rae’s every movement, but they were expecting company, and being out in the open made the entire team vulnerable. Knowing they were covered, Saint stared out at about a dozen semitrucks, some with trailers, some without, all in various states of rust and ruin. “Which one, cariño?
Rae winced, bringing her hands up to rub her temples.
He pulled her into his arms, taking over the massage. “Pounding?”
This close, he could see the strain on her face even in the dim light. “Like a son of a bitch.”
He waited, giving her time to process, to think. She’d had a lot thrown at her in a very short time.
“How could I never have suspected, Saint?” she finally whispered. “I mean, no, my uncle was not easy to get along with, but our families have been close all my life. I helped my mother raise his sons. How could I miss that he was the kind of man who would callously put us all at risk for money?”
He tilted her chin up until he could meet her eyes. “You trusted him, Rae. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. What he did, he’s responsible for, not you.”
“How do I tell my cousins that?”
“We’ll deal with that when the times comes. Now”—he made his voice brisk—“let’s get this over with. Which one?”
She turned to face the truck yard, and there was no hesitation this time. “This way.”
The semi she led him to was only half rust-eaten, it’s red paint and the darkness hiding a multitude of sins. The passenger side faced the building, so Rae moved right up to it, opened the door, and gripped the side rail to haul herself up into the cab. Saint waited, his gaze searching, knowing the enemy could appear at any moment, until she reappeared. “Here.”
A black bag flew at him, and he caught it easily. When Rae was back on solid ground, he handed it over. “Hang on to this until we can get it to the authorities.”
“I don’t think so,” a man said, stepping around the back end of the trailer and into their path. “I’ll take that, Raegan.”
Saint stepped up to cover Rae, facing off against the handgun pointed right at them. The calm he expected in a fight, that he’d felt all night, disappeared, however; instead, knowing who this man was, Saint felt anger begin a slow boil in his gut. “Francis Conté, I presume.”
“And who, may I ask, are you?”
Saint stared the man down. “You can ask; doesn’t mean I’m gonna answer.” He tipped his head to one side, sizing Conté up. Finding him wanting. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is, this ends now.”
“Does it?” Manuele Di Angelo rounded the crumbling heap of a truck next to them, moving out into the open. Saint immediately noticed the man held no gun. That privilege appeared to belong to the handful of men spreading out behind him.
Saint barely glanced their way. In the end they were no more than gun fodder. “It does.”
“Planning to call in the cavalry?”
Reaching behind him, he settled a hand on Rae’s hip and urged her backward, closer to the front end of the truck. “Don’t need to.” Neither of these men were fools; they had to know Saint and Rae weren’t alone, based on the security guard’s witness if nothing else. They simply didn’t know where his team was located, and that was the surprise that would bite them in the ass.
This would be over long before backup arrived for either side.
“Then what do you plan to do?” Di Angelo asked. “It’s what, four? Five? Against”—he gave an exaggerated look around—“ten. Not great odds.”
“Just about even, I figure.”
The group around Di Angelo laughed.
“Raegan, don’t be stupid.” Francis advanced, waving his gun. “Give us the diamonds.”
Rae scoffed. “You mean be a coward like you? Fuck that, Francis.” Her fingers fisted in Saint’s jacket before letting go, giving him the freedom to move if he needed to. “How could you still be working for them after they threatened me? Chased me down for six months? Do you realize I almost died because of them?”
Conté seemed unconcerned. “This isn’t work, Raegan; it’s survival. Something you obviously know all about by now. Hand over the diamonds!”
“You’re putting everyone around you, everyone involved in our company at risk.”
Francis shrugged. “I’ve lived with the risk for a long time. Might as well spread it around.”
