“What is it?” she asked impatiently, her stomach knotting painfully. “Did he get away?”
Montrose flipped his phone shut and hesitated. “Do you have anywhere to go? That’s safe, I mean.”
Home. A hot shower, then a nap in her own bed sounded heavenly . . . but Hunter’s earlier warning and the detective’s sudden jumpiness made Kata rethink that. “What happened?”
“The man who tried to kill you today was stabbed within ten minutes of hitting his cell. Inside job. Professional.”
Kata started to shake. “He’s dead?”
Nodding, Montrose ripped off his sunglasses and stared with grave, dark eyes. “Whoever is after you went to great pains to clean up his loose ends. He means business.”
Hunter was right; this attack hadn’t been random. In fact, her assailant had admitted that he was doing a job. Someone had hired him—then, once he’d been caught, snuffed him before he could talk to the police.
“They haven’t ID’d your would-be killer yet. He had no ink linking him to the Gangster Disciples or anyone else. That doesn’t mean anything, but maybe your murder would have been his initiation or . . .”
“He looked too old to just be hitting the streets.”
He sighed. “Yeah, who knows? But you need to be careful. Stay someplace safe for a while.”
No shit. But where? Kata started to shake again, reached out for the chair behind her to steady herself. Someone wanted her cold in a grave—quickly.
Home was too obvious. She couldn’t go to Marisol’s without putting her sister and nephews in danger. Nor could she risk her mamá. Gordon would only make her mother’s life worse if she dropped by unannounced and asked to stay. After everything Mamá had been through, Kata couldn’t make the woman’s life harder. Besides, the less time Kata had to spend with Gordon, the better.
Where did that leave her? Driving to her brother, Joaquin? Was he still in Houston? She didn’t know. For the past year, he’d been deep undercover—he’d never say who for. Joaquin was like a ghost to the family, there but not.
Kata sighed, raked her hand through her hair. Ben didn’t deserve to be in danger, and their friendship had been strictly casual, convenient. Maybe she could grab her gun, withdraw some cash, then run for it, staying off the grid until things cooled down. But if there was a hit out on her, the matter wouldn’t be resolved until whoever had hired the gun called it off or she was dead. Not palatable choices.
Through bits of conversation over the last few hours, Kata had gleaned that Deke was half owner of a personal protection business, along with some guy named Jack, who was out of town. Tyler, a former homicide detective, helped out from time to time. Could she persuade them to help her for the right price? Possibly . . . but they were Hunter’s friends. They’d defer to him.
That left her with her new, unexpected husband. If she asked for his help, would he see that as some sort of implied consent to take over her life? Maybe that sounded paranoid, but she’d seen Gordon in action for too many years, and Ben had already warned her that Hunter liked to dominate. But both appeared to be control freaks with a deafness to the word “no” and a knack for manipulating matters—and women—to their liking.
Maybe it wasn’t fair to lump Hunter and her stepfather together. Kata knew she hadn’t been at her most magnanimous last night. And her husband appeared to lack Gordon’s mean spirit.
You’re so fucking gorgeous, honey. Hunter’s voice echoed in her head, very different from the way Gordon talked to Mamá.
She sneaked a glance at Hunter. He stood tall, focused, his stance and body that of a warrior. He would be totally capable of keeping her out of harm’s way. But haunting memories of his large hands heating her skin, shoving her thighs apart, his threat to tie her to his bed, plagued her. He’d gotten to her on every level, more than any man ever had.
Even so, avoiding the vulnerability and fear he pushed her to feel wasn’t worth dying for.
“Do you have someplace to go?” Montrose barked again in low tones, breaking into her thoughts.
Where she wouldn’t have to sleep with one eye open and a gun under her pillow? “No. But Hunter will.”
GRIPPING the steering wheel of Tyler’s truck, Hunter stared at the thin traffic meandering around Lafayette early on a Sunday evening The sun shone, the birds sang. People on the corner ate ice cream. And the fury bubbling inside him tested his composure to its limits.
Some asshole wanted his wife dead. His brief but enlightening conversation with Detective Montrose made matters worse.
Hunter’s only consolation was that she had come to him for protection. Somewhere inside that stubborn woman’s head and heart, she trusted him. He would work with that—as soon as he figured out how to end this threat to her life.
“You did the right thing in letting me protect you,” he assured. “I’ll take care of it.”
Kata shook her head, the inky, long hair brushing her arms, the tops of her breasts he remembered tasting. Her lips still looked swollen, her eyes a bit red and heavy from lack of sleep. The adrenaline crash had to be gnawing away at her energy, but other than one dicey moment earlier, she refused to show weakness.
Too bad his adrenaline hadn’t come down yet. All he wanted to do was beat the hell out of whoever wanted to hurt Kata. Or fuck her. Preferably both. Didn’t look like either would happen for a while.
“I appreciate your help, but let’s get one thing straight.” She turned to him in the cozy cab with a warning glare. “I turned to you because I’m not sure I can do this alone, but I don’t want you to take over.”
In his book? Same thing. She had no experience with this kind of shit, and he’d be damned if he’d let her put herself at risk for the sake of her stubborn pride. She could decorate the house however she wanted, name the pets, choose the vacations. He’d give her a lot of latitude during their married life, but he was in charge when it came to sex and her safety.
With Kimber’s words ringing in his head and Kata’s desertion this morning playing in an endless loop in his brain, Hunter wished he could afford to back off. He couldn’t, but maybe he could find a gentle way to make her see his logic.
Hunter nodded in her direction. “All right. What did you have in mind?”
Her expression told him that she hadn’t thought too much about the answer. “I—I guess a safe house somewhere, at least until the police catch Cortez Villarreal.”