Page 49 of Temptation and Treachery
Chapter Twenty-One
Ayala shuffled through the door, the shackles at his ankles and wrists clattering with every step. The layered rings of filthy water along his expensive dress shirt and his damp hair and pants were evidence of the waterboarding he’d been subjected to. Did they want money, information on his business, or payback for the people that died in the escape? Rio curled his fingers into a tight fist and turned to the Detention Center’s administrator.
“What happened here?” he demanded, the balaclava covering his face adding a guttural note to his voice.
“We lost men when this puto was taken,” the chief spat.
“That’s just it,” Rio said, herding him back until the shorter man flattened his back against the door. “Remind your men Ayala was taken. Kidnapped from under their noses by one of your own.” The men in the hall shifted uncomfortably. Rio addressed the five men. “The man who killed your people is dead.”
“He’s responsible for what his people do,” the administrator said defiantly.
Rio stepped closer, speaking so only he would hear. “If I find out anybody else laid a hand on my prisoner, I will hold you responsible for what your people do.” He stared down, letting him see the intent in his eyes. “We’ll talk again. And I won’t be carrying a badge.”
The chief stiffened, his eyes shifting to Ayala then back. “I’ll have him put into isolation until he’s moved.”
“And kept alive and safe,” Rio stressed.
The chief gave him a choppy nod. “Alive and safe,” he repeated grudgingly. With that, he sidestepped while Rio remained in place, shooting the retreating man a deadly glare. He slammed the door, dragging out his cell to type a message to Parker. He wasn’t about to trust the chief’s people to provide proper medical care.
Ayala waited patiently, watching him with his signature calm facade. Rio pulled his mask off, dropping it on the metal table anchored to the floor between them. He faced Victor Ayala, the man he’d spent countless hours tracking. Studying his every move, analyzing his actions to predict his patterns. Finally the pieces fit. He understood why Ayala didn’t make sense. Why his moves were so erratic at times. And why he’d gone from occasional skirmishes to the bloody massacre of innocent people.
After all this time, they were face to face. And he couldn’t quite come up with the right words to start the conversation he wanted.
“Do you have a death wish, agent? Showing your face in front of me isn’t smart,” Ayala added, somehow managing to look boardroom ready, despite the beating.
“No death wish.” He squared his shoulders. “You know as well as I do that I’m the only man left standing who can protect Celeste. So it’s not in your best interest to kill me.”
Ayala’s features went hard. “I will take care of my own.”
There was no question that Ayala had deep pockets and an extensive network. He wouldn’t be the first man to run his organization from behind bars. “I’ve seen the lengths you’ll go for your family.” His head still echoed with Celeste’s pain-filled wail. “And that’s what we are.” He paused, suddenly short of breath. “I’m your grandchild’s father.”
A heated flush bled through the mash of color along his face. “You fucking bastard.” Spittle formed at the corner of his mouth. “You dared to—”
“I’m in love with your daughter,” Rio forged ahead through the angry rant. While he couldn’t help feeling that, as her father, the man was justified, he was going to make his point.
Ayala went silent, the declaration obviously catching him off guard. His eyes narrowed as he worked through what was happening and waited for Rio to continue.
This was why Celeste thought he’d used her. Why he still saw doubt in her eyes even after he’d denied setting her up to get to her father. “Now I understand her insecurity. And her pain.” Rio nodded thoughtfully, while Ayala…no, while her father processed his words. Perhaps giving him a new perspective on what he’d done to his daughter by making her think a man couldn’t want her. “But you’re wrong. And so is she.”
“I’m supposed to believe you,” Ayala layered the word with disdain, “a government agent, approached my daughter without an agenda?”
Fate was a crazy bitch. If not for this man, for his psychotic son, and Mother Nature, he never would have met Celeste. “What you think is your own business. She’s the one I care about.” He took a second to rein in his temper. “Deep down she knows what you said isn’t true. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to her.” The words carried the conviction in his heart.
A sharp knock interrupted them, agitating his temper. Fucking Parker and her timing. Putting his hand on the knob, he got to the point. “I came here because tradition says a man should ask for a woman’s hand in marriage.” He wasn’t going to give Ayala a chance to deny him. “But know this, Celeste is mine. And I’m not giving her up,” he said with finality.
“Is that so, agent?”
“No more ‘agent’,” he said, feeling lighter than he’d ever felt. “Not after today.”
Ayala’s gaze flicked over him, assessing him in stony silence.
Rio opened the door, staying behind cover. Parker came in, moving around him with her typical efficiency, to set her bag on the table. He pushed the door closed, but gloved fingers came around and held the edge. Rio frowned. Who was coming? He looked at Parker, who gave him a quick nod. He loosened his hold, letting a figure in their standard black uniform slip through the entrance. Behind the goggles, familiar blue eyes looked up at him, wide and vulnerable. He closed the door, a sense of peace settling over him. She was here.
Her gaze ran from him to her father, then back. Relief. Concern. Indecision. “I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I didn’t mean to betray you, Rio. I was trying to get a lawyer.”
“No.” He shook his head, pulling her close to remove her headgear. “It doesn’t matter.” He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her head to his chest. “I’m sorry I left. I thought you hated me.”
“No.” She pushed back, her brows coming together in concern. “You saved me.” Then with a shy smile she added, “Saved us.” She relaxed against him, her hands pressing into his back to hold him close.
