Page 21 of Sleeping with the Dark (The Righteous 3)
The cars and cheering got loud as the racers made their way toward them. Arek’s hair blew around his eyes, and the mustang shook as the cars passed where they were parked. A rush of adrenaline filled him as he contemplated racing a round himself. He could do it. He was a fucking good driver.
Arek opened his mouth to ask another question when his phone began beeping wildly. He pulled the cell from his pocket, and his heart sank. His Sweet Delilah was sending out a distress call. Trev was in trouble.
“Shit, Trev’s in trouble. I need to go.” Arek slipped behind the wheel of the Mustang and revved her to life.
“I’m coming with you. Don’t say no—I know how to handle myself.”
“Fine, get your car and follow me.” Arek hit the code on his phone and dialed into the AI.
“Sweet Delilah, status?”
The tech was designed only to send out a distress signal if life systems dropped significantly. That alarm was one he prayed he’d never hear.
Peeling away from the race area, Arek sped away, smoke rising as the wheels squealed on the muscle car.
“All communication with Crosshairs has been disconnected,” came the response. Arek gripped the steering wheel tight as he continued to fly down the road.
Hang on, Trev. Hang on.
Trev coughed, his mouth filled with blood from the impact of the hit. His jaw had gone numb a few hits ago, and he was pretty sure his jaw was partially broken now, not that it mattered. He wasn’t giving up any information.
He spat the blood onto the ground and groaned as the movement sent a sharp pain racing up the side of his head. His head was pounding, and his vision was constantly slipping in and out. He reasoned that he had a concussion, and by the way the room had suddenly become fuzzy around the edges, there was more than that to worry about. That last hit rattled the teeth in his head and rocked his head back enough to see stars. The grey roof literally sparkled. Relatively speaking, that was not the hardest hit he’d ever received, but this was definitely the most compromising position he’d ever found himself in.
Alejandro had large guards standing around in the shadows of the warehouse, each one glowering as they watched on, but the guy didn’t need the muscle. Trev glanced up at the chains and shackles that were digging painfully into his wrists. Blood was trailing down his arms in thin rivers. It was all a very real reminder he wasn’t getting out of this one alive. By the time Delilah signaled Arek, it would take him too long to arrive from the house. He wanted to kick his own ass—he had no one to blame but himself. He came in like Rambo without a good plan, a rookie mistake, and he was no rookie.
“I’ll ask you again, who the hell are you?” Alejandro asked. The man had peeled off the dress shirt he’d been wearing long ago, and the scars lining Alejandro’s back were a vivid visual of just how many people he’d dug graves for. “FBI, maybe? Or how about the CIA? You don’t have an accent, but you could be MI-6. You have to be one of those fucking acronyms.” He began swearing in Spanish and then switched to Portuguese.
Trev understood every word but simply stared at the floor like he was never the wiser.
“You know who I am,” Trev repeated the same answer. “But, if I was one of those organizations, I’m not sure killing one of their agents is the best way to make friends. There are a few books I could recommend on making friends if you like?”
Alejandro spun around a long blade gripped tightly in his fist. “You think you’re funny, do you? Tell me, Mr. Defence Attorney, is night vision standard attire these days for the courtroom?”
“Just doing some poaching.” Trev fixed the man with as much of a smile as he could muster.
“In L.A.? In a warehouse? And where is this infamous buck that is not even native to this area?” Alejandro held his hands out and turned in a circle. All the while, a deadly-looking blade spun in his hand like a carnival toy.
“I chased the buck in here. What can I say? They are smart. The bugger ran back out before I could get him. Sorry about your men though, I’m apparently a terrible shot.”
Alejandro laughed as he tapped the blade against the palm of his hand. “Yes, marksman shots between the eyes are how I would describe a terrible shot too. You know, I still like you, but you see that alone is a red flag for me, because other than my daughter, I don’t like anyone.”
Alejandro walked over to a table and came back with a tablet. A few taps later, he turned the image so he could see that there had been a camera in the drug room that Delilah had missed. Probably only had an internal feed, rookie mistake. He really was out of practice. He watched as he ran into the room, finished stuffing the mostly packed bags, and ran back out. The image was dark, and he had his hat pulled low, but this explained why there’d been no retaliation.
“You see, Mr. Anderson, I know that is you. You are probably going to say that a buck ran in there too or that you have a look alike.” He tapped the screen to stop the video from repeating.
Trev wanted to laugh, even the truth Alejandro wouldn’t believe at this point. “I actually do have a twin, but would denying it help my cause?”
The tablet thumped as it was set back down, the blade in Alejandro’s hand tapped against the metal of the table. Like a horror movie monster, he turned and faced Trev. A look of malice shining from his dark eyes.
“Even if I ignored everything else, including this video, that first meeting prickled in my mind. You were too calm back then, for being surrounded by my men armed to the teeth, and you are too calm now.” Alejandro stepped forward and shook his head from side to side. “The fact that you can look at me with humor in your eyes tells me you’re not who you say you are.”
“Oh yeah? Why is that?” Trev turned his head slightly to keep his eye on Alejandro as he stalked him. He shivered as the tip of the blade touched his skin, and the sound of skin scraping away was loud in his ears even though the touch was light. The dizziness was worsening from the number of times this man decided to walk around him.
Alejandro reminded him of the movie Predator, the fierce look in his eye, the intelligence shining through. He couldn’t stop the Arnold Schwarzenegger lines racing through his head.
Maybe like the movie this man was planning on eating him. The hunger for the meal of pain told him he was going to endure a lot more of it before he got to die. He’d become the goat for the T-Rex. He always knew his luck would run out—he just didn’t think it would be this soon.
Alejandro stopped in front of him, his eyes piercing as he got right up into his face.
