Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2)

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Nate?” I call out even though I know exactly where he’ll be.

  “Sweetheart?”

  “What’s the plan?” I sit on the arm of the sofa as he closes his laptop. “Can I take Joe and get my things from the apartment I have here? Are we staying here long? I have a hundred questions.”

  “I have a plan. No, you can’t. No, we’re not. We can try to answer them on the flight.”

  “Flight? We’re leaving?”

  “Yes. And you don’t need to worry about anything.”

  “Okay, Nate Cane. Stop it. You don’t get to make all the plans. I told you I don’t want to leave you. I love you, but don’t treat me like some dumb girl. Include me. Keeping me in the dark isn’t going to ensure my safety.”

  He studies me for a moment as I brace my arms across my chest.

  “Fair point. We’re going away while Quinn and I look at the threat the Yakuza pose. This is what both Quinn and I have agreed. You are far from dumb, but the fewer people who know the plan, the better. And yes, that tactic will ensure your safety. As will Joe. But, I will tell you, you’ll like it there.”

  “What about my things?”

  “I’ll arrange for them to be boxed up and shipped or stored. What do you want?”

  “How long will we be there?”

  “I don’t know at the moment. Have you got somewhere else you’d rather be?” he asks with a sly smile.

  “No, but that’s not the point.” I huff, but Nate catches my arm as I stand, and pulls me back against him on the sofa.

  “It’s somewhere we can get back to being us. Somewhere to forget and to fortify. Everything you want will be waiting for us when we get there.”

  “You make it sound so simple.” I bury my head against his chest, hoping that this plan isn’t just a way of hiding out. I did that before in Bora and they still followed me. “It is if you just let me do my job.”

  “And what’s that?” I tilt my head back to study his face.

  “Looking after you.”

  It could have been a three-hour flight, but it took us over twenty-four hours to arrive. Part of me was hoping Nate would take us back to Bora, but I knew better. And despite it being for us, Denny and Joe were with us as well. They were always discreet, quiet, but I never forgot that we were being watched.

  I step off the private jet and am assaulted with a wall of humidity that instantly has my clothes clinging to my skin. The boys look stupid in their cut suits in this heat, but they don’t seem to mind.

  “Where are we?”

  “Costa Rica.” Nate smiles as he delivers his answer, not stopping on the tarmac but already heading towards a waiting car.

  Denny opens the driver's door, and we slip in the back. Joe slinks off to another vehicle before we exit the airport. I expected to see signs for San Jose, but there’s nothing.

  “Will you tell me the plan now?” It’s hard to keep a grin from my face as I look out through the tinted glass and see the lush green foliage.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I’m not really the surprise type of girl, Nate. Not after everything.”

  He doesn’t answer but squeezes my hand and turns to look out of the window.

  We’re in the car for hours, and I’m sure I’ve drifted in and out of sleep. I remember stopping at some point, but Nate told me to rest and that Den would look out for me for a while, that there was something he needed to do. He was gone for around thirty minutes—thirty minutes of me hiding in the back, still worried about every sound without him by my side, but then he was back again, and I fell straight back to sleep. Since this all began, sleeping hasn’t been a regular occurrence—more like when and if you can.

  “Gabby?” Nate’s voice filters to me, and I stir with a crick in my neck from the awkward position. “We’re here.”

  “Will I know where here is?” I reply, my voice thick with sleep.

  “Just look.”

  It’s dark as I emerge from the car, having no real clue how long we’ve been travelling or what day it is. Manicured lawns surround a paved driveway that we’ve pulled up onto. Palm trees rustle against the shore breeze and camouflage a house, concealed behind them. The gentle roll of the waves pulls my attention, and I can see a pathway cut through the landscaping and down towards the sound of the beach. The inky darkness steals the splendour of what I believe will be a stunning view of the ocean.

  “Is this where we’ll be staying?” The sleepiness from earlier has been erased.

  “Yes. Take a look inside.”

  “I thought we’d be in a hotel again,” I call back as I take the steps to the front door. Frigid air from the air conditioning bathes my skin as I search for a light switch. It’s a sleek and open plan with a marble floor and a beautiful spiral staircase. So many features that make me think of paradise. Wide, glass doors open out onto an infinity pool that’s jet black in the darkness. It reminds me of the first time I went out to hide the diamonds over in Nate’s bungalow.

  “What are you thinking?” Nate’s touch caresses my arms as I lean back into him.

  “I’m thinking about Bora.”

  “I know. I wanted somewhere we could go and be safe. I couldn’t do that there. But this is where we can be us again.”

  “Our bubble? It’s not Bora, but it’s close.”

  “It is.”

  “All I need is for you to like it and agree that you’ll do everything we ask to keep you safe.”

  “I love it. And I have a million questions.”

  “Tomorrow. And besides, you’re very good at doing what you’re told. In fact, I think we need to see a demonstration. Upstairs. Now.” He swats my arse, and I can’t help but happily pull him up the stairs to explore.

  For tonight I can get caught up in the magic of us. Questions can wait until tomorrow.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Costa Rica

  My hands rest on the terrace wall, still supporting this damned leg of mine as I gaze out at the view and sigh. Turquoise waters stretch out as far as my eyes can see, soft sun dropping low in the sky and kissing the horizon. Life will be better here, safer to some degree. We have a three-sixty vantage of the surrounding area, nothing but this beach to the front of us, and the cliffs climbing at the sides. We’re secure here, or at least as secure as a Cane can be.

  It only took a few phone calls to old contacts to find this place, and then a heavy conversation with Raphael Denago reminding him of the loyalty he still owes us. Quinn might have killed his son last year, but that only increases our leverage in Columbia rather than diminishing it, and so Costa Rica serves as a useful port between Chicago and there. It also means we have backup if we need it, something that Quinn is building back up no matter how much I hate the thought. This is life again now, and having the Columbians on board again is, while damned fucking irritating, necessary against the Yakuza.

  Not that I trust them.

  But that’s Quinn’s job to manage.

  I watch as the team sweep the side of the house, builders solidifying the fencing I’m having put up to help, and then look back to the cove off to the left of me and smile. She doesn’t know yet, but this is all mine already—hers, too. I bought it the moment I got to the hotel, knowing it was necessary for both of us, for the whole family. Quinn was right; lying low is essential for a while. I’d rather it was Bora, so we could remember, but that’s not possible anymore. They followed her there, knew our every fucking move. This is the next best place I can think of. If I’m going to be on edge for the next however long, I’ll do it here with her by my side and this view to occupy my thoughts.

  My phone vibrates, Quinn’s name flashing. I ignore it, letting it go to voicemail, and tuck it back into my pocket alongside the only thing I care about at the moment. I know where he is—New York. He’s gone there to secure our future in the only way he knows how, bridging old relationships again. It’s a shame, but it is what it is now, no matter how much I hate it. He told me as much in the last co
nversation we had, told me to do what I wanted for a while because when the time came to start all the shit again there wouldn’t be any turning back. He’s right about that, too. I know it and so does he. This is personal now.

  It’s coming no matter what.

  So, I’m doing exactly what I want to do, and she’ll do as she’s told, with any luck.

  I smile again as I look at the blue of the waves lapping the shore, and then check my watch. Time waits for no man, certainly not a Cane. I’m making the most of every second we’ve got. It’s the reason we stopped on route last night, giving me a chance to get the one thing I needed to make this dream become a reality. Maybe dreams are for fools in our situation, but I’ll make it as close to one as I can for her.

  “Boss?” I turn and look at Denny in his suit, snorting at the look of it in this island’s heat. “Perimeter is clean and locked.” I nod and walk towards him, flicking my eyes to the other end of the terrace and wondering where she is.

  “You don’t need to wear a suit, Den.” He fiddles with his earpiece, straightening his shoulders at my suggestion of idiotic clothing. It’s like he’s on double time in some covert op in desert storm. I suppose he is in some ways, will be until I can get that Yakuza bitch off our backs, or Quinn does. “I’m not paying you to look good, just to keep us alive.”

  “Thank fuck for that,” he replies, immediately shrugging out of his jacket.

  I pat him on the shoulder and walk on by. If anyone will protect Gabby, it’s him. He’s done it once before, and he’ll do it again. That’s his job from now on—protect her first, then me. I couldn’t have picked a better man. No family. No commitments. And a trigger-happy finger that’s got no problem raining hell down on anyone who gets in his way. I left the rest of the team to him after he accepted my offer. It was substantial, and all he’s got to do is keep us alive to get it each year.

  “Everything ready?” I call back, weaving my way around the pool.

  “Yes, boss.” I nod and look upwards, praying to God that this works.

  “Where is she?”

  “Top floor. Joe is with her.”

  I walk on after that, crossing the manicured garden and wandering through the foliage that shades the house from the rest of the world. Palm trees line the front of it, all of them as tall as the first floor, a large glass balcony jutting out over them. It’s paradise, literally, has been since the moment we landed.

  The cool air creeps into my bones as I enter and start for the staircase, feet echoing across the hall’s cream marble floors. Christ knows who built this place, but it’s immense. It reminds me of home in some ways, albeit a fresher version.

  “Gabby?” I shout up, hand grasping at the rails to help me up the stairs.

  There’s no response, but if I know anything about her by now it’s that she’ll be doing the same as I was ten minutes ago, getting lost in our new view. I snatch a flower from a vase as I go by and turn into the main landing, looking into every room as I walk on. Not that I need to, I know just where she’ll be. Why the hell the old owners had the east wing as their master suite I don’t know. It should be right where I’ve chosen our room, looking out at our sea and sighing at the thought of its magnificence.

  “You getting lost again?” I ask, turning into the room and waving at Joe to leave his position at the door.

  She’s sitting there on the end of the four-poster bed, a white sarong wrapped around her hips and nothing but a miniscule bikini covering her top half. “We need to have discussions about dress code.”

  She looks back at me, a smile coming.

  “That shit is not acceptable with the team around.”

  Her beam grows wider, a light laugh following as she gets up and sashays over to me, hips swinging as her bare feet cover the space between us.

  “Is that for me?” she asks, looking at the flower in my hand. I nod as she takes it from me and puts it over her left ear, tucking it into place just like that night at the casino, curls falling gracefully along her jaw. Shame it’s not a Tahitian gardenia anymore, but Costa Rica doesn’t have them, and that’s where we are now for better or worse.

  “Looks good.” It does, but it will look better when those fucking bruises have disappeared completely.

  My hand reaches for her face, my thumb trying to brush them away somehow. It doesn’t work—nothing does—and the fucking stain will be imprinted in my mind for as long as I live, no matter how many times she tells me it doesn’t matter anymore.

  “I still don’t understand, Nate. I mean, how did you make this happen?”

  “Money can make anything happen,” I reply, grabbing hold of her hand and walking us out of the room. “And you’d be surprised how many people owe Cane something.”

  She smiles a little, but I can feel her discomfort. She might love me, but she’s far from happy with the life we’re now in again. It’s not her, is it? The violence, the sense of threat. She’s a thief is all—one I’m sure will continue to go about her business as when I tell her it’s safe for her to do so again. Not that that’s coming anytime soon. But this around us now? All this threat that’s coming? It’s not what she wants or deserves, but here we are, both of us in love and trying to find a way through everything my life has to offer. The only thing I’ve damn well got to counter that is my heart, along with the protection that affords her, because I’ll fucking die before I let something happen to her again now.

  I would have done in that warehouse.

  “Life’s too short to fuck around with,” I mutter, leading us further around corners neither of us know yet.

  We wander back through the landing and out to the far staircase, tracking the rooms back down towards the side entrance. My leg gives out a little as we come back out into the sun, steps jarring the fucking thing and reminding me of what happens for love.

  “You need to rest,” she says, trying to turn me back into the house. No, I don’t. I need to get on with my life, and so does she now she’s beginning to understand what being part of Cane means. Who the hell knows what’s coming for us in the future? I don’t, and no matter how much I plan or strategize our next moves, ready to defend us at all costs, we could all be dead before we’ve even damn well begun.

  “You happy here?” I ask, towing her along with me without another thought of resting.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” she replies, still trying to tug my hand back towards the inside of the house and frowning. “But really, Nate. We need to get you inside and out of this heat. I’m assuming this is recuperation time before we go back. Recuperate, will you?”

  “We’re not going back.”

  I let go of her and keep walking through the grounds to get me back to the terrace, hoping she’ll follow without any more argument. Although, I do enjoy it. The bickering is one of the things I love about her for reasons I haven’t quite worked out yet. They make her defiant, snappy and unpredictable, things all women have been lacking before her.

  “What do you mean we’re not going back?” she says, catching up and putting herself in front of me, hands on hips. “When was that part of the plan?”

  “When I bought the place for us.”

  “What?”

  I smirk and duck around her, heading for the steps down to the beach and hoping she follows me there, too. I snort, amused at my hopes as I look up and see Den pacing the top line of the terrace, gun holstered. Follow me? Why would she follow me given what she’s been put through? Let alone deal with the rest of what’s coming. A team of guards around her permanently? A life constantly monitored in case of threat? It’s hardly the dream we had in Bora. But then we’re not those people now, or at least not yet.

  I can hope, though.

  “I’m thinking you should just do as you’re told, Gabby.”

  “I’m thinking you should tell me what the hell is going on,” she snaps, silent feet landing on the beach next to me. “Honestly, Nate, you can’t just spring this on me. We should discuss this.” I stop and turn to h
er.

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  “Why? We don’t need to discuss anything other than the fact that I love you.” She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out as she stands there looking a little lost. “What else is there to know?”

  “Well, for a start there’s—”

  I walk off again towards the corner of the beach leading to the cove, not interested in anything else she wants to question. There’s nothing as far as I’m concerned. We’re rich, alive and in love. We want for nothing other than each other and the sand beneath our feet, children running with us if I can manage that at some point in the future.

  “What about everything you’ve got in Chicago?” she calls. I round the breach of the waves, head shaking at the thought of Chicago as my feet sluice through the water to get me to the one place I want her in. I’m not interested in Chicago at the moment. Quinn will deal with that. The only thing I give one fuck for is hearing her voice and seeing her smile again after some cunt violated her.

  My stomach rolls at the thought, hands tightening into fists as I stare out into the water and watch the sun lowering itself. Not one other person will touch her again, ever. Revenge claws through me without a way of expunging itself onto anything. There’s only the Yakuza I can blame, and that’s coming with time, but for now all I have is the hope that she can forget it or forgive me for not stopping it. Either way, it was unacceptable on too many fucking levels for me to rationalize, and now all I have is this time here to show her how fucking sorry I am. Sorry for letting them take her. Sorry for trying to do the decent thing and not have a bloodbath coming for everyone, and damn sorry for not being the one who killed the fucker who did it to her.

  “We can’t just stay here forever, Nate,” she says eventually, catching up with me and breaking me of my musings. I turn to look at her, hands in my pockets. We can. We can stay here for as long as I hold Quinn off from starting the ball rolling forward into hell again. He’ll be the one to push the right buttons, start the machine rolling.

  But he’ll do it when I’m ready now.