Reaper leans forward. “And why the hell wouldn’t they?”
“Hear me out,” I say, trying to find my feet, even as I sweat at the thought of being back in that room with Alvarez. “What if it’s the Hondurans and Alvarez? What if they’re working together? What if he paid them for intel to take the weapons off our hands? The captain could have been in the dark.”
Ridge nods. “It’s not like the Hondurans are loyal to us. And if what Van said was true, the Hondurans would get paid twice. Once by us, and then again by Alvarez. That route always stops off in Cancun to refuel and top up supplies before they set off for Florida.”
“Good point.” Havoc twirls his empty whiskey glass. “It could be someone in Cancun, providing intel of when they set off and were scheduled to arrive.”
Lock shakes his head. “I don’t know. We do a lot of business with them. They’d be foolish to walk away from it. And why didn’t the captain or someone from their side message us about the boat getting in there sooner? We never asked.”
“Unless they believe they can do more business with Alvarez,” Havoc says. “Shit. The captain, he had a note scribbled on that paper sticking out of his shirt pocket. I think they’re planning to stay the night and refuel in the Keys. It was that place just beyond Conch Key.”
Knox stands suddenly. “Then let’s go. See if we can find them.” He looks at his watch. It’s one in the morning. “Let me just call Maren and tell her I’m not coming home tonight. Be ready to leave in ten.” He looks to me. “Tomorrow, I want you on finding out who made the patches. Wrestle it down, Van.”
I nod. Because I’m grateful to haveanythingto do.
Havoc squeezes my shoulder. “You doing okay?”
“I’m good.”
He winces at my answer. “I’d prefer it if you gave me any answer other than those two words. They’re too fuckingpracticed given how many times you’ve said them to me. Why don’t I take my truck tonight and you can come with us?”
I shake my head. “Last thing I need is a pity ride.”
“Wouldn’t it be better than being left behind? Give you some kind of purpose instead of drifting around this place.”
I stare at the bottle of whiskey that Knox left on the table and mentally make a date to finish it tonight. “No.”
“Then go home, Van,” Havoc says. “Being around this place isn’t doing you any good.”
I shove my chair back and stand, reaching for the bottle. “And you think going home is going to change that?”
Havoc stands too, then gets right up in my space. “There isn’t a hurdle you and me haven’t been able to cross, brother. The difference is, you’ve gotten it into that goddamn stubborn head of yours that this is yours to carry alone. It’s infuriating and insulting. So, if you’re still here tomorrow, I’m dragging your ass to my truck, and we’re getting out of here. Don’t care where it is. Don’t care what it takes. Don’t care where we fucking go. But we’re going. And I don’t care if you’re high or drunk. But if you puke in my truck, you’ll clean it up yourself.”
With that he leaves the room, colliding shoulder to shoulder with Knox, who comes back in.
“Van,” he says. “We’re out. But you should know, Daisy, that girl you’re not interested in, got weird with Maren. Was having a nice afternoon and shit, then saw two men, color drained from her face, and then she just ran out on Maren with some excuse about not feeling great. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that he leaves the room.
16
DAISY
Half awake, half asleep, I can’t make out what the buzzing is. Everything is sluggish and drowsy. I can barely open my eyes. But when the sound starts again, I’m awake enough to realize it’s my phone.
Which is odd, as it’s been an age since I got a call on it. Because exactly four people have this number. My mom, Annie, Katie—the organizer of the camp Elsie is at—and Vandal.
I pat around on the side table and squint at it.
Vandal:Are you awake?
Vandal:I’m outside.
Vandal:Let me in, Daze.
Then I hear footsteps in the hallway. My heart races, even as I way too quickly accept the fact I think he just broke into my house.
Or it could be the two men I saw. The two men who made me race home and do an inventory of how quickly we could pack up and leave. I asked my parents if they had any more friends who could help Elsie and I out with a place to live. They said they’d ask around but weren’t hopeful.