“How?”
He crosses his arms. “Word is they hijacked Alvarez’s shipment last week. Boss is waiting for proof before taking Vargas out.”
I raise a brow. They’ve been around, what? Three years, and they’re already going to be wiped off the map? What kind of idiot thinks he can steal from a cartel triple its size? Bella shouldn’t have been dragged into any of this shit.
“There’s a kid,” I start. “His name’s Jeremy. Lived with Bella.” I don’t need to explain any more than that. Even though it’s a closed adoption, Damien would be able to dig up information.
He nods. “He’s under our protection.” Damien gives me one last look. “Keep her safe,” he says before disappearing down the street.
I look inside the bag he handed me, ignoring the sour taste in my mouth. This is blood money. I’ve never had an issue with it before, but that was when the only blood on it was mine or another person willingly signing up for it. This has Bella’s blood on it now, too.
If we didn’t need the money and Bella didn’t go through hell just to get here, I would get rid of the cash without a second thought.
But this is us now, on the run from everyone and everything. As long as I have Bella, I don’t care where we go or what we do. She may not feel the same about that right now, but she will. She doesn’t have a choice.
When I’m back in the room, she goes back to doing everything possible to avoid looking at me. I want her to let all her frustrations and anger out on me. I want her to cry, scream, or sob—anything other than this grating silence.
Maybe we just need a change of scenery. Maybe getting some sleep and food will get her to actually look at me.
We pile everything and ourselves into the car without a word, and then get the fuck out of Chicago.
What a load of shit.
Maybe some sleep and some food will fix it? That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve ever told myself.
Bella has had plenty of sleep; I heard her little snores while her back was to me in the car. At this rate, I will know the back of her head better than I know my own hand.
I dragged her to the grocery store—yes, dragged. As I said, I’m not letting her out of my sight, which, in hindsight, was a terrible idea. She’s still all bruised up and didn’t wear any makeup to cover it, so the sight of me forcing her somewhere would be enough for someone to call the police.
I got her all her favorite snacks and takeout food—I even got her a teddy bear hugging a pillow that says, I love you.
Bella happily took what I had to offer her, then shoved it in my face. She accepted the teddy bear, but not without mutilating it first. She literally ripped out the cotton from inside with her bare hands and threw it in the back seat, then turned onto her side so her back was to me. Again.
And people call me a psychopath.
If I weren’t driving and we weren’t trying to get the hell out of dodge, I would’ve pulled off the road and put her over my knee for being such a little brat.
Yes, she’s traumatized over what happened, but keeping it bottled up won’t help any of us.
It’s been twenty-four hours, and she hasn’t said anything other than, “I need to go to the bathroom.” I saw it as an opportunity to blackmail her into speaking to me; talk, and I’ll pull over in exchange.
Did it work?
No. The stubborn princess held it in for almost a goddamn hour before I was the one who relented.
This girl really does have me by the balls.
I even tried saying things I knew would piss her off. Did she take the bait? Absolutely fucking not. Talk about giving a guy the cold shoulder.
Now we’re here, in a shitty motel. She’s still giving me her back—which is fine, because she’s trapped in my arms, and her hips are pressed against mine like the perfect little spoon. She still hasn’t said another word—not even when I stepped into the shower with her—but I’ve decided that she has another twelve hours before I go down the extreme route.
“Bella,” I say into her hair.
Silence.
Fucking hell.
“You better start talking real soon, or else you might regret it.”
Nothing.
“This is me giving you space. If you think I can’t get any worse, you have a whole other thing coming for you, baby girl.”
Zip.
Nada.
I sigh and pull her tighter to my chest. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Isabella.”
Soft light filters through the curtains, illuminating dust motes specked through the air. The stale air is aggravating my nostrils, but the faintest scent of something sweet is settling my nerves.