Page 94 of Bound By A Promise
He looked across the room at Aléjandro.
“You two are starting to freak me out. You have some kind of bromance going on?”
Dante shook his head and chuckled. “No, but we do have a common enemy, and later, we plan to bond over some carving.”
“Carving?” I asked.
“Wood?” Mia asked.
“Something like that,” my husband said. He looked at Jano. “Come with me to Dario’s office. We just received confirmation on the flight plan.”
“México?” Jano asked.
“Catalina Island.”
Dante~
Dario’s suitcoat was missing, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. None of that diminished his aura of power and control, punctuated by his visible holster. He looked up as we entered. “How is Camila? What did Dr. Barone say?”
“She’s going to be sore. There’s more bruising than we realized when she took off her shirt and pants.” My brother’s eyes widened. “She wasn’t sexually assaulted.”
“Good.”
“Luca,” I said, “has the kidnapper at Emerald Club. We received confirmation on the flight plan. The plane was taking Camila to Catalina Island.”
“And you believe there’s a yacht out there flying the Mexican flag.”
Aléjandro stepped forward. “I want to hear what we can get out of the fucker at the club, but if we’re right,Padreneeds to be involved in this conversation.”
Dario nodded. “That said, Herrera is causing problems here too. This isn’t just the cartel’s fight.”
“It’s our fight,” Aléjandro said. “All ofours.”
I spoke. “I’m going to talk to Camila. I don’t know if she wants to be downstairs all alone.”
“She can stay up here as long as she wants,” Dario offered.
“I planned,” Aléjandro began, “to take Mia and Valentina back today.” He looked at me. “But there’s no way to know how long we’ll be at the club.”
“You and Mia can stay at our place,” I offered. “We’re safer here than in a hotel.”
“Mia has been staying here,” Dario said. “No sense in making her leave. Aléjandro, you’re welcome in my home.”
There were seismic changes happening in this alliance, as if the ground was shifting under our feet. “Either place. Choice is yours,” I said.
“Call me with any news,” Dario said as we turned to leave.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
Aléjandro’s smile grew. “Let’s tell our wives we’ll be gone, then I’m ready.”
The room where the man was being held wasn’t on the tour we gave ATF. It was only accessible through the wine cellar, behind a wall of top-shelf bottles. As soon as the door opened, the stench of piss filled my nostrils.
“Fuck,” Aléjandro murmured. “Next, he’ll shit himself.”
The man’s head was down, his chin near his chest. His pants, that had been cut away from his leg wound, were wet as was the concrete near the chair. The drain in the floor came in handy when this room was bleached and sprayed down.
I walked closer, taking in the zip ties binding him to a metal chair with a makeshift bandage on his leg wound. I’d instructed the soldiers not to let him bleed out. This man had a full night ahead of him before death would offer a reprieve.