Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“She’s still working her way along the coast.”
“With Cole Hartman?”
“Yes.” Boones ambled through the kitchen, setting out a skillet and gathering eggs.
“I need to speed up her search.” He explained the promise he made to Kate and the phone call to Liv Reed. “If Lucia doesn’t find Tate in six months, I have to release him, which defeats everything I set into motion.”
“Let go of this fixation, son. It’s not healthy.”
He crossed his arms, refusing to engage in another argument about this.
“All right.” Boones cut his eyes at him. “What are you suggesting?”
“Leave some bread crumbs. She’s looking for the picture on Tate’s back. Pay some of the locals in the surrounding towns to tell the story about the Medio del Corazón monastery to anyone asking about gates. Once she hears the folklore, she’ll know to look for him there.”
“Very well. Anything else?”
He ran a hand over his partially-shaved head and eyed the gray fuzz that Boones kept religiously trimmed on his scalp. “Where are your clippers?”
“Bathroom.” Boones thrust a thumb over his shoulder.
He strode down the hall, found a zippered black pouch of barber supplies, and exited the bathroom without a glance at the mirror. When he returned to the kitchen, Kate was on her way down the stairs.
She ate her eggs and toast in silence while he conferred with Boones and Arturo about business in Caracas. As they conversed in languages she couldn’t interpret, Boones seemed more interested in her presence than Tiago’s month-long absence from the city. His questions about her were relentless.
What do you plan to do with her? Will she return with us to Caracas? Is she a replacement for Lucia?
Since Tiago didn’t have answers, he didn’t give any and instead shifted the conversation back to border issues and smuggling routes.
As they wrapped up the meal, one of the night shift guards climbed out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, scratching his bald head.
“I thought I smelled breakfast.” The man did a double-take at the table, his tattooed eyes fixed on Kate before darting to Tiago. “Jefe.” He straightened and held his arms at his sides. “It’s good to see you up and around, sir. You look well.”
With a nod, Tiago turned to Kate, who sat stiffly beside him with her jaw hanging open. “Kate, this is Blueballs.”
“Blueballs,” she echoed, staring at the man’s blue eyeballs.
Blueballs grinned and widened his eyes to give her a better look.
“How did you…?” She pointed at the freakish coloring of ink that turned the whites of his eyes bright blue.
“The dumbass tattooed his sclera.” Boones stood and carried his dishes to the sink. “He’s lucky he’s not blind.”
“Hey! I’m a professional.” Blueballs shifted back to Tiago. “Speaking of… I’ll get started on Tate’s tattoo today.”
“What?” Kate gasped. “Is he here?”
Tiago clenched a fist under the table, seconds from cutting the tongue out of Blueballs’ blabbing mouth.
“No, he’s…” Blueballs paled, gripped the back of his neck, and recovered quickly. “It’s a long drive, so I need to head out soon.”
When he dared a glance at Tiago, his stupid blue eyes didn’t blink. He’d fucked up, said too much, and knew the consequences. He wouldn’t be walking out of here alive.
Kate slumped against the back of the chair, watching Blueballs with a downcast expression. “When you see Tate…” She sniffed and rubbed her nose. “Please, be kind to him. He’s suffered enough.”
If she hadn’t bought the lie about Tate’s location, she would’ve shown signs of edginess and glanced at the door, itching to escape and save her friend. She wouldn’t need to run far to stumble upon the gates of the monastery and the shack behind it.
But she believed Blueballs, and her gullibility just saved his life.
“You heard her.” Tiago turned back to his breakfast. “Better get going.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Blueballs made a beeline out of the house.
Without another word, Kate moved to the sink and started on the dishes. During her preoccupation with the task, she didn’t notice the container of food Boones slipped into his medical bag.
A moment later, he left without announcing his departure. She had no idea he was on his way to deliver breakfast to Tate.
Keeping her in the dark about Tate’s location wouldn’t be easy. If she knew he was less than a mile away, there was no telling what she would risk in her attempt to see him.
The solution was to return to Caracas as soon as possible, take her with them, and leave someone here to care for Tate. But Tiago couldn’t return until he built some of his strength back. He needed to be able to run when necessary, hold a weapon without tiring, and trust that his vision wouldn’t crap out on him.
He needed another week of recovery. Maybe two.
She finished the dishes and turned away from the sink, staring at him expectantly. “I’d like to step outside for some fresh air.”