Manipulate (Deliver 6)

“My sister is alive, and she’s with them.”

She walked them through the day she killed Hector—how she did it, everything that was said, and the clues Garra gave her before he died.

“They smuggle children inside crates with their weapon shipments.” She clenched her hands. “I think, all along, they were discussing their human trafficking operation right in front of me. They just always referred to it as firearms. So while I was in the women’s camp, I wrote down everything I remembered from those meetings.”

She pulled a small journal from her back pocket and squeezed her fingers around it. Two years of memories filled the pages—conversations, smuggling routes, towns in North, Central, and South America that began with Cala, as well as the details of that haunting night in the sewer room.

“Give it to Luke.” Martin nodded at the redheaded vigilante. “He’s leading the next phase of the mission.”

“Vera’s part of that phase.” She clutched the notebook to her chest. “Until I have evidence of her guilt, I won’t turn against her.”

“I won’t kill her.” Luke held out his hand, waiting for the journal.

“I’m going with you.”

“No.” Martin put his face in hers. “There’s a contract out on all three of us. We aren’t going anywhere near Hector’s sons until the situation is neutralized. We’ll be involved in the operation. In the background. Understood?”

Her pulse quickened. “There’s a contract on you and Ricky?”

“Yes. They connected us to you. How could they not? We lived among La Rocha Cartel members for three months. Everyone saw the three of us together.”

She sucked in a breath and turned back to Luke. “What will you do if you find her?”

“I’ll shackle her.” He lifted a shoulder. “Haul her ass into the Restrepo headquarters for questioning.”

The arid landscape of Phoenix, Arizona blurred past the windows. She was only minutes from her old apartment. That was where she’d been, sitting on the couch and looking forward to summer break, when Vera called. It was the last time she’d talked to her sister.

“Please, don’t kill her.” She relinquished her journal to Luke.

“I promise.”

“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?” Ricky caressed a hand through her hair.

“I don’t care where, as long as we go there together.”

Whatever lay ahead could be her greatest challenge yet. There would be tears and laughter, fighting and fucking, and everything in between. A lasting relationship with one man was hard enough. But with two? It would be twice the work, twice the joy.

She couldn’t wait.

Five miles from her old neighborhood, Cole drove through the wealthiest part of Phoenix. Mansions sat on estate lots, boasting their own lagoons, lush green yards, and wrought iron gates.

When Cole pulled up to one of those gates and punched in a passcode, she straightened on Ricky’s lap.

“We’re going to stay here for a few days.” Ricky kissed her shoulder.

“Is it safe? I assumed we would head to Colombia where you live.”

“We will.” He turned her to face him. “You’ve been locked up for two years. Taking you to Matias’ headquarters might feel like another prison. We thought you would want to experience some of the places and things you loved here before we dragged you away.”

“You’re right.” A watery breath heaved up, clogging her voice. “Thank you.”

“But we won’t be alone here. Most of the group came with us, along with some of Matias’ men. They’re here to keep us safe.”

As Cole drove through the gate, the cars from the prison followed in behind him. Towering stone walls surrounded the driveway, with security fences and armed men blocking every alcove and path.

Jesus, they weren’t fucking around. This place was a fortress.

“Who owns this property?” she asked.

“It belongs to the Restrepo Cartel.” Martin gripped her hand, twining their fingers together. “We’re safe here.”

Sitting between him and Ricky, she’d never felt safer.

The next hour involved a tour through the ten-thousand-square-foot mansion and introductions to the men and women who made up the Freedom Fighters.

Some of them weren’t there. Matias, Camila, Tate, and Lucia were working on another mission in Colombia, and Kate lived on the other side of the world. But she met Josh, Liv, Tomas, Amber, Livana, and the most intimidating presence of them all, Van Quiso.

The massive kitchen buzzed with activity. More food than anyone could ever eat covered the counters. Beautiful people filled the doorways and chairs, and the intimate history between them vibrated through their laughter and lit up their eyes.

They engaged her in friendly conversation and teased Martin and Ricky about their seven-year foreplay.

For a group of ex-traffickers, ex-slaves, and vigilante murderers, they were surprisingly affectionate and gentle. But those were traits she no longer trusted. If it weren’t so abundantly clear that Martin and Ricky loved these people, she would’ve been looking for the nearest exit right about now.

Even so, her nerves felt raw and wired. She wasn’t used to so many aromas of food, the constant touching from strangers, and the extravagance of her surroundings. It was too much all at once.