“Why?”
“Why?” she echoed. “I don’t know. I don’t understand the minds of sociopaths—that’s more your style.”
His short laugh was humorless. “Afraid I don’t qualify as a sociopath, Parker, despite what you think. I can’t fault you for your loyalty . . . wait a minute, yes I can. Your loyalty has brought down a shitstorm on us, and if we don’t get that smartphone back, then whatever information is on it will be available for the Guiding Light and anyone else to use. Which means the human trafficking will continue, and you’ll bear some of the responsibility.”
She said nothing, turning her head to stare at the deepening countryside around them. There was nothing she could say. Ryder was right on one count—if she’d turned her brother over, then any information he had would have stopped with him. If she’d simply handed over the damned smartphone, then all this could have been resolved. Her brother was far enough away that Ryder couldn’t get to him, but the infrastructure of the human trafficking would be compromised, and it would be a lot harder to rebuild.
“You’re right,” she muttered.
She could feel his eyes on her. “What did you say?”
She turned to look at him. He looked dangerous in the bright sunlight, unshaven, sunglasses shading his wolf’s eyes, and unwillingly she remembered the feel of him on top of her, inside her, his mouth between her legs, and she wanted to curl up and die. From shame, and from wanting more.
“I said you were right. If I’d just handed over the phone all this could have been avoided. My brother would have had to stay out of reach of the police, but that could have been accomplished, and he deserves at least some punishment for what he did, even if he didn’t recognize how awful it was. Exile from the US is the least of what he should suffer, no matter how much the family will miss him.”
“The family or you?”
“Not me. I hadn’t even seen him in almost a year. I don’t have anything to do with my family.”
“Then what makes you think he’s still the lily-white soul you think he is?”
“I told you, you’re right. I have no idea who he really is at this point. I’m just trusting my instincts. He’s the only member of my family who’s still worth anything, and I’m not ready to write him off.”
He sighed. “All right, I’ll get off your case. But you’re in for some nasty surprises.”
“I think I’ve had enough nasty surprises to last me,” she said, leaning back and closing her eyes. The wind ruffled her hair, cooled some of the sweat, and this was probably the closest she was going to get to air-conditioning. “Wake me when we get there.”
By the time Ryder pulled into the tiny village and brought the jeep to a halt, Jenny was ready to scream. The roads had been so bumpy and rutted there was no way she could sleep, and making idle conversation had been out of the question. All she could do was brood. And remember the feel of him inside her.
She opened her eyes reluctantly, looking around her, and was half tempted to close them again. Their stopping place could barely be called a village. There was a run-down cantina, a tiny store with a gas pump that looked as if it was pre–World War II, and chickens wandering the dusty road. “Where are we?”
“A little town called Talaca. Apparently when the Guiding Light come down from the mountains, they end up here.”
Alarm shot through Jenny. “And we just waltz in?”
“We drove in, Parker. And they’re not here now. Not yet. Want a beer?”
“What?” Her voice rose an octave. “Are you crazy?”
“Nope. And you’re not staying out here alone. If you don’t want beer I’m sure they have juice or something, but I think a beer would relax you.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’m perfectly relaxed.”
“Sure you are. That’s why you’ve been clenching your fists for the last four hours.”
“It was a bumpy road,” she said self-righteously.
“It’s a bumpy life. Out of the jeep, gorgeous. We have things to do.”
Gorgeous? Did he just call her gorgeous? She was a lot of things—attractive, even pretty by some people’s standards, but she could hardly be called gorgeous. She looked at him to see if he was mocking her, but he was fiddling with something in the jeep. She watched in horror as he pulled out a large and nasty-looking handgun, tucked it in the back of his jeans, and then pulled on a rough jacket.
“You know, anyone watching from the cantina will know you’re carrying a gun,” she pointed out in a cranky voice.
“I’m counting on it.” He came around to her side of the jeep. “Are you climbing out or do I have to make you?”
“How do you think that would look?”
“Like a man making sure his woman obeys him,” he said lazily.