by Bethany-Kris
Cree snarled under his breath.
Great.
They were back to this again.
“How about,” Renzo said, “I will get the kid, once you two let me know how I should do that, then I’ll deliver him to where he needs to go, and the rest of you can work out your fucking issues on your own time, yeah?”
Silence answered Ren back.
He didn’t mind that a bit.
“Well?” he asked after a moment.
“How many men do you think you’d need to extract the kid?” Dare asked. “From the source his father has, the kid is located in Kuta—not far from where you are. A little bit of money shoved into the right hands, and we can easily nail down his exact location.”
“Cree said he’s mixed up with a gang?”
“Yeah, apparently.”
Renzo nodded, though the men couldn’t see it. He’d already pulled up Google maps, and was currently scanning them, but he currently didn’t have much to go on so it didn’t particularly help. “Three men, including me, to be safe. I want full get up for this—bulletproof vest and all. A mask, too, so make sure it’s all on hand for me.”
“Let us get the kid’s location nailed down first.”
“Call me when you do—after one in the morning.”
“All right.” Dare let out a slow breath. “And thanks, Renzo.”
Right.
“Thank me when I ask for it—how I ask for it.”
THIRTEEN
“So, you’ve got, what, two more days there?”
Lucia smiled at her brother on the screen, nodding. “Yep.”
“Can’t wait!”
In the background of the video chat, Lucia watched as Diego passed by the chair John was currently using. She wasn’t at all surprised to see the kid at his house, considering John and Siena—plus their kids—lived only a couple of blocks away from Rose, her husband, and Diego. The teenager often went to John’s place to hang out, play games, or just do whatever. And John was happy to keep an eye on him.
For whatever reason, Diego didn’t take as easily to his sister’s spouse as he did for … well, Lucia, when she’d come into Renzo’s life.
Renzo blamed the fact that Diego had been a lot younger when Lucia had come around, and he hadn’t been the type to be jealous back then. Rose’s husband came along when he was twelve, they married shortly after he’d turned thirteen, and he was still trying to adjust to this man—who, Lucia thought after meeting and spending time with him, was quite kind, and loved Rose to death—who took up a lot of his sister’s time, and was now the head of the house.
They didn’t fight.
Diego didn’t … cause problems.
Neither did Rose’s husband, considering the man didn’t even discipline Diego. He left all that up to Rose and Renzo, and never said a word edgewise about it. It was clear he cared a lot about Diego and tried to give him space, but something was still there.
A tension was definitely there.
They were working on it.
“How’s he been the last week?” she asked, lowering her voice when she saw in the corner of the screen that Diego had left the kitchen area. “He hasn’t been able to talk to Ren too much, so I wondered if maybe—”
“He’s doing fine.”
“Oh, well, good.”
John shrugged. “Sometimes, you have to give teenagers a bit of time to work out whatever thing they’re going through. It’s not like adults can understand, you know? Stuff that seems petty or silly to us might mean their entire lives are ending.”
“Bit dramatic.”
“And that’s exactly my point. You have to at least try to see something from their perspective if you want to understand why they react the way they do. Things would go a lot smoother, in that case.”
Yeah.
She supposed he might be right. Not that she would admit it out loud. If she did, her brother’s ego would grow, like most men’s, and that would be yet another thing Lucia would have to deal with. Today was not the day for that. Tomorrow didn’t look great, either.
“He talked to Ren this morning,” John said.
“I know, for like an hour.”
“He misses him.”
Clearly.
They missed everyone at home, too.
“Besides, I heard he couldn’t talk to Ren,” John added, “because someone decided you all needed to turn off your phones and just enjoy your vacation, huh? What happened to that, seeing as you’re on here, chatting with me right now?”
Lucia grinned. “You’re not wrong.”
“So?”
Damn her brother.
“We might have come to the mutual conclusion this morning that both of us are homesick like nothing else. We’re not used to being so unplugged from everyone—at least not willingly like this. Renzo has to leave his phone behind when he takes a job, but that’s different. Anyway, we wanted to call and say hello to some people.”
John put a hand over his chest, a smile splitting his lips as he faked a happy sigh. The bastard even dared to lean back in his chair and stare upward like he was thanking God or something. “And I was just lucky enough to be one of those people. I love you, too, Lucia.”
She laughed.
The ass.
Truth be told, though, her brother was still her very best friend. She had lots of girlfriends, a ton of family, and Renzo, too. Yet, at the end of the day, it was still John she called when she wanted to gossip or just needed to talk. It’d taken them a while to get back to that place with one another, but she hadn’t minded at all when it came to putting in the work between them. She loved her brother to the very ends of the earth and back.
She knew he loved her the same.
Even when he drove her crazy.
After all, what was family for?
“Anyway,” John said, “we’re all looking forward to seeing you both when you get back. Siena, especially, wants to take you out to breakfast, so make sure you put aside a bit of time for her, yeah?”
Lucia almost rolled her eyes—her brother, forever his wife’s biggest protector, even if Siena didn’t know it and didn’t need it.
“I will make time for her, I promise.”
“Good. Enjoy the rest of your vacation. Bring me home something.”
“Like you did for me when you went to the—”
“Love you, bye, kiddo.”
John hung up the call with a grin and a wink that said he knew exactly what he was doing. That was all Lucia saw as the call cut off, too. Just her brother’s frozen face in that smug expression before the screen went back to the home page of the video chat app altogether.
Fucker.
She still loved him, though.
Lucky him.
As she didn’t have anyone else to check in with—she’d already called her parents, and her other siblings, as well as her assistant, although only to tell the woman she was going to need a couple of extra days after her vacation before she returned to the gallery—Lucia powered down the laptop and put it away.
Then, she went in search of Ren.
Soon enough, she found him in the outdoor shower, surrounded by walls made of smooth rocks on the upper terrace that they could use privately by walking through the sliding doors from the master bedroom. The showerheads dropping water on him looked like small waterfalls, and for a moment, Lucia stood back and enjoyed the sight of her husband’s naked, wet body. All those hard lines of his dripping with rivulets of water, and his muscular legs shifting from foot to foot as he wiped the wetness from his face.
Renzo turned, shaking the droplets from his face at the same time. His gaze came to land on her just beyond the shower. She didn’t move to join him, although she would soon. There was little to no doubt about that. If only because she had no self-control around this man, and now he was grinning at her like he knew it, too.
Goddamn him.
She loved him.
“How’s everyone?” he asked, reaching for the bottle of sho
wer gel sitting on the floor.
And yeah … that gave her a nice side view of his ass.
A very sexy ass.
“They’re good—missing us as much as we miss them.”
Ren nodded, standing straight again with the bottle in his hand. “And then you know like a week after we’re gone, we’ll miss Bali, right?”
She didn’t doubt it.
“We’ll come back,” she replied.
“Yeah, we’ll come back.”
His gaze drifted over her form, his stare lingering in all the right spots and making her wish she were under the shower with him. He tipped his head back, that silent invitation she’d been waiting for. She didn’t even hesitate to join him.
FOURTEEN
Learning to walk without making a single sound could be unsettling to most people around him, but Renzo found it to be a valuable asset. Like now, he moved around the bedroom in the Bali vacation home without his wife as much as shifting on the bed. She slept peacefully while he gathered things he needed, between his bags in the walk-in closet and the phone still stuffed in his discarded jeans from earlier.
He’d already dressed—waited just long enough for Lucia to fall into a deep sleep before doing so. He wore all black from his head to his toes, which was the standard uniform whenever he did a job for The League. It was one of their first lessons. A man needed to learn how to blend in, even if he was the type to stand out in a crowd.
He couldn’t draw attention.
Turning the device provided by The League on, he took a moment to appreciate the sight of his wife, who was happy and unbothered on the bed. He liked to believe that she’d found a good head space here. All the stress of life that she’d left behind in New York probably didn’t seem like such a mountain now; more like a small hill for her to tackle.
That’s all he wanted.
Knowing damn well it was about to be a long night for him, he crossed the bedroom and dropped a kiss to the top of his wife’s head before smoothing back the wayward strands of her hair that had fallen in her eyes during sleep. Her lips curved into a soft smile, and while he couldn’t be sure if that was from him or whatever she was dreaming about, he also figured it didn’t matter. As long as she stayed happy, then that’s what counted.
“See you soon, babe,” he murmured. “I’ll be back—promise.”
Forever.
He’d always come back.
It was one of her greatest fears, and while she didn’t voice them, that didn’t make it any less real to Lucia. She’d told him all of once, and he’d listened well enough to know that she wouldn’t tell him each and every time that he went out on a job. It wasn’t like the fear was unfounded, either, considering how dangerous his line of work could be.
And still, he came back.
He made sure of it.
Dropping one more kiss to her forehead, Renzo straightened to his full height and left the bedroom without another look back. He had to. Otherwise, he might never leave at all. Her fear might revolve around his safety, but his was firmly stuck in the idea that he had to go when he never seemed to want to.
Win some, lose some.
Life was funny like that.
Renzo gathered the other things he needed as he walked through the house and headed for the front entrance—his lighter on the counter, the pack of cigarettes he’d left near the back of the house, and even the small sleeve inside the hidden compartment of his bag that had a fake ID, cash, and a passport.
All things he needed just in case.
Stepping out of the house through the front, he found two black vehicles already parked and waiting in the circular driveway. He’d passed the code for the gate onto Cree, who’d then given the information to whatever team would be helping him here with this little side project for The League. Between the two cars, six men stood waiting.
More than he needed.
Renzo would take it.
“Someone’s gotta stay here,” he said, taking the steps two at a time, “but whoever it is, they don’t go into the house and the woman inside never sees you. Got it?”
None of them said a thing.
They all nodded, however.
Yep.
All in all, should be an easy job.
• • •
Feeling like he might finally have enough miles put between him and the city of Kuta to be considered safe, or as close as he was ever going to get, Renzo pulled the black mask from his face. He’d have to put it on again before transferring his ward at the next checkpoint to make sure his face wasn’t seen, but he would deal with that when the time came. All things The League demanded. He’d also like to yank off the goddamn bulletproof vest that felt a little too tight around his chest, but shit …
One thing at a time.
The thumping in the back of Renzo’s vehicle had finally come to a stop but seeing as how he was so fucking exhausted and within three hours the sun would be high in the sky, it might be the fact that his brain had just shut off and wasn’t hearing anything.
But who was he to say?
The Bluetooth in the car beeped through the speakers as the call he had been trying to make for the last thirty minutes—man, there was some shitty service in different parts of the island, unfortunately—finally picked up on the other end.
“Is it done?”
That’s all Cree asked.
Renzo let out a slow breath, his gaze darting to the rear-view mirror to check the road behind him. There, the second black car in his team traveled terribly close to his bumper. Not that he found that problematic, seeing as he had told them to follow that close.
“Yeah,” he finally said, “or mostly. Traveling the kid to the boat now—it’ll take him off the island and then they’ll get him to the private jet out of—”
“Yeah, I know. No problems?”
“Not particularly. Bunch of guns came out when we went into the spot where he was staying with the gang. Man …”
“What?”
“He’s a kid, Cree. Just—”
“A bit younger than I normally train, yes.”
Renzo cleared his throat. “He seemed scared.”
“He should be.”
Right.
That couldn’t be forgotten.
“Everything from here should be standard, yes?” Cree asked.
“By all accounts, the hard part of this is done.”
“Mmhmm, well, the boy’s father called Dare earlier. Said to make sure we told his son—Taman, in case you forgot—that this is for the best.”
Renzo didn’t believe that for a second. Having been the person that boy was currently in the trunk of his car, taken from a bad situation and put into the care of The League, then trained to become this … thing. This person—an assassin who killed for a dollar amount—was not always the best thing, but now wasn’t the time to argue about it, honesty.
He had better things to do.
Places to be after he left here.
Like back with his wife.
“I’ll call you when I hand the boy off at the next checkpoint,” Renzo said dryly.
“You sound—”
“Goodbye, Cree.”
He ended the call before the other man could respond.
It didn’t make a difference that Renzo ended the call so he wouldn’t have to keep talking about the situation with the boy in the back of his trunk. The forty-five minutes that he had to drive to the drop-off point were more than enough time for him to go over every last detail that bothered him. Or rather, made him nervous for the kid.
Once he got to The League, Ren knew what would happen and how it was going to go from there. Nothing about this was easy. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be someone who delivered someone to that fate, either.
Oh, well, he thought, staring up at an inky sky while the road came a little faster at his vehicle. You’re almost back home with your wife.
Even if Bali wasn’t home.
Nor was that vacation house.
Lucia, though?
Well, wherever she was, that’s where his home would be.
He just wanted to get back there.
FIFTEEN
When Renzo was home—not out on a job somewhere in the world—it was rare that Lucia woke up alone. And by rare, she meant it literally never happened. However, that last morning in Bali, when she blinked awake in the soft sheets, the first thing she realized was how empty the bed felt next to her. Sure enough, when she turned to check, Renzo’s warm body wasn’t next to hers. By the looks of the smoothed sheets, he hadn’t been there most of the night.
She took a minute.
Then, two.
Just to blink away the sleepiness in her eyes and the sensation of dreams still lingering in her mind. She took in her surroundings, stretched out under the white sheets, and breathed in the island air that floated in with the breeze from the window that had been left open the night before next to the bed.
Still, she kept looking to Ren’s side of the bed and how empty it seemed without him being there to wake up with her in the morning. She didn’t like that at all, so as much as she wanted to stay right there in the comfortable bed and maybe get another hour of sleep before she had to start packing to leave the island, she got up and went in search of her husband. After, of course, she made a pitstop in the bathroom to take care of her morning business and splash her face with some cold water to wake her up even more.
Lucia didn’t even bother to take the time to change into something other than the over-sized T-shirt of Renzo’s that she’d stolen the day before to sleep in. There was something she loved about stealing his clothes to wear when she could—they smelled like him, kept her warm just because, and gave her a sense of home like nothing else but him could do. Sometimes, she swore he left her a T-shirt he’d worn for a day at the bottom of their bed right before he left for a job, just so that she would have a fresh one while he was gone.
It didn’t take Lucia long to find her husband on the back terrace, and she wasn’t at all surprised that’s where he’d gone. It seemed to be his favorite spot in the whole house, considering the many things he found to do back here between the pool, the forest he liked to explore, and the many sitting areas.
