Blake had his arm wrapped around a woman with a baby strapped to her. Her long, curly hair was flowing in the wind behind her. The way he tucked his arm around her and held her protectively made it clear they were together. A family unit. No one was breaking them apart.
The one she didn’t know was the younger guy. Oh, he was just as tall and looked just about as deadly as Noah and Rafe did. Dark hair, some tattoos peeking out from under his T-shirt. Of all the guys, he was the hardest to pin down. He hardly ever left the building.
She’d managed to catch him skulking out like he didn’
t want to be seen about a month ago. But that had been it.
She knew from her surveillance over the past several months that there were at least four more. Mueller, the Viking from the other night, and a couple of younger-looking ones. They both had dark hair and more boy-next-door kind of looks.
That left the one who didn’t fit. Jonas Castillo. He dressed better than the others, including shoes she recognized as something her brothers would wear. Sometimes a vest, sometimes a suit. Her files said ex-cop. But seriously, what kind of cop dressed like that? He, unlike every other person who worked at Blake, actually had a traceable path. Though a sketchy one. Rumor was Castillo had been sleeping with the wife of the disgraced ex-mayor.
Well lo and behold, the guy ended up dead after putting his wife in the hospital. All fingers pointed at Castillo. But he’d had an airtight alibi complete with video evidence for the hours surrounding the mayor’s death. They couldn’t make anything stick to him, but he’d been forced out of the department. Within a week, he’d had a job at Blake Security.
She needed to know more. And until she could get in and meet them, the other players on the board would remain question marks. That was okay—she was getting close. At least she hoped she was getting close, because she sure as hell was getting tired.
As she watched Rafe’s strides eat up the pavement, the tingle in her belly intensified. What the hell was wrong with her? Danger, bitch. Danger. This thing with her libido was getting out of hand. There was something about his swagger that was ultimately appealing. Hell, she was a woman after all.
But that gnawing, longing pull of attraction had only gotten worse. Something at the base level of her nature found him fascinating. Which was a hell of a problem, because how was she going to get her revenge when her body kept thinking about ways to get under him? Okay, on top of him too. She did like to be thorough.
The Bluetooth in her car rang, and she pressed the Yes button. “Hey, Charisse.”
“Hey, Di. What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know. A little of this. A little of that.”
“Still following Rafe, huh?”
She sighed. “So what if I am?”
“Are you at least being safe?”
“Yes. I’m being safe. I promise. Besides, I already have a plan to get at him.”
She could hear her best friend muttering something about saints preserving her. “Shit. Di, do I even want to know how you plan to get at him?”
“Probably not. You wouldn’t like it.” Charisse was her oldest friend from university. She was also the only one who had the whole picture on what she was doing.
She’d given Diana a place to stay while she planned and a shoulder to cry on when shit got so hard she didn’t think she’d be able to continue.
“Di, look, I get it. This guy killed your father, but that’s all the more reason you should let the authorities handle it. Because he is a killer and he could hurt you.”
“Well, he’s going to have a hell of a time. I’ve been planning for this, training for this. I have given up any semblance of a life just to get this close.”
She’d started looking for him three years ago, as soon as she graduated university. She’d dug up her father’s old files that she could access, tried to think of anyone who might have information.
She’d been so deadly serious about pursuing him she’d even asked her brothers for help in finding information. They didn’t think that a woman was capable of much, so they’d laughed her off. But not before giving her the name of someone who could do the legwork. It had taken time. But she’d been given a name. And a name had been all she needed.
After that, she tracked him. Rafael DeMarco. Italian. Grew up in Connecticut but then moved to Brooklyn. He had a younger sister, Lucia DeMarco, married to Noah Blake with one child.
Rafael DeMarco had never been married as far as she could tell, unlike Noah Blake. He was supposed to be dead. He looked pretty damn good for a corpse. If that guy was a vampire, she suddenly saw the appeal of all those sparkly undead.
The first time she’d seen Rafe’s obituary, the despair had been deep. She’d been sure she’d lost her only chance to find out why her father had been murdered. But she’d gotten lucky.
She’d had eyes on his sister because she figured Lucia might know something about the people her brother worked for. Then one day out of the blue, Rafe had just walked into Lucia’s office. She’d been studying him ever since, getting ready to spring a trap. Hell, it had taken patience and dedication and help. At least she had the funds to finance the help. She couldn’t watch him all the time. Nor should you. Lest you become obsessed.
“Look, Char, I know you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it. But this man is a killer. He took my father away from me. He has to pay.”
“I hear that, but you need to be careful. You don’t have enough information about him. You say he’s a killer. What if he finds out who you are? What if he finds out that you are lying to him? I mean, he killed your father. So he has no qualms about killing innocent people. Maybe he had business with your father, maybe he didn’t, but you don’t know that he won’t hurt you. You’re lucky to have what you have. Maybe it’s time to move on.”