Page 73 of Exposed
Which would do absolutely no good right now.
“There’s only one thing we can do. We’ll have to talk to his family. I highly doubt they’re upstanding citizens, but who knows, maybe we can get a—” His gaze dropped to the desk andone single, purple-labeled pen caught his eye. Its design was so unlike the other contemporary pieces that he reached out to pick it up.
Club Viejo.
His heart stalled. He surged to his feet, and the computer chair bounced off the wall behind him.
“This is it,” he tossed the pen to Ashley and charged out of the room.
CHAPTER 24
“What the fuckis this?” Carlos bellowed. He spun her around and shoved her down. Her back slammed roughly into the chair she’d vacated only minutes before. It tipped backward, before righting itself on all fours. Carlos’s hands opened and closed at his sides as he stared down at the man she’d tied up.
“Untie him, dammit.” He gestured to Hector.
Droplets of sweat clung to Carlos’s cheekbones and the neckline of his shirt had a darkening ring around it. He was pissed. Beyond pissed.
She curled her hand into a fist and her other hand around her purse. Dammit, why hadn’t she called Nate immediately? If she could somehow get her phone out and hide it on her, she might be able to dial him.
The man on the ground let out a stream of Spanish, a few recognizable curse words floated to her ears. Hector pulled him to his feet and he let out a deep, guttural cry.
“She fucked Diego up.” Hector stepped back, his gaze raking over the man. Diego—she’d been right. Diego turned to her, and a big purple bruise colored his chin. His eyes creased at her.
Carlos’s onyx irises sharpened on her. He stepped forward and his fist curled into the strap of her purse. He yanked it over her head, tearing it from her fingers.
No! She surged forward, her hand opened to grab it away, but all she caught was air. He pinned her with his gaze.
“Don’t move.”
Her hands fell to the edge of her seat, curling around the plastic. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He would pullout her cellphone, but he wouldn’t find anything incriminating in it. Would he think to look inside the seam?
Please, God. Don’t let him find the encrypted phone.
He rifled through it. A vial of lip-gloss spilled out and landed on the floor, rolling to her feet. He made an impatient sound and turned the bag upside down, shaking it.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The contents tumbled out as fast as if a two-year-old had gotten a hold of it. He gave it another hard shake and the encrypted phone dropped out. Its black, bare covering looked as ominous and out of place as a bomb.
One thick, black eyebrow rose. “What’s this?” His tone hovered on curiosity, but the lines of his face hardened. He turned the device over in his hands and chortled, a curse rode the wave of his breath. He gripped the phone in his hand and advanced on her, his steps slow and deliberate. “Who the fuck are you?”
He stopped in front of her, his knee brushed against her thigh. The hair on her arms stood at attention. Sweat collected in the deep crease at his brow.
Maddie pursed her lips. Desperation clawed inside her, wanting to keep the façade up as long as she could. But what was the point? Should she outright admit that she was a cop? That the FBI was here and investigating him? Would it change her fate? No. She couldn’t give up her cover—especially when she didn’t have backup. Unless she could completely redeem herself, Carlos would kill her without hesitation.
At the very least, denial could keep him talking and give Nate more time to get to her. Torture would be better than immediate death… wouldn’t it? She swallowed and met his glare, not hiding her temper.
“We’ve been through this already.”
He jammed the phone under her nose. “What is this, hmm? Why do you have two phones?”
She swallowed and her throat bobbed over the dryness that had collected. Her mind worked at warp-speed. “It’s a cellphone. I found it on the ship and meant to turn it into the lost and found. I forgot.”
Carlos’s lips thinned. He shook his head at her and lifted the tip of his index finger to his temple. “I’m not stupid, puta,” he rasped.
He lifted his arm high and threw the phone. It smashed into a million pieces, which skittered across the floor. Her chest rose and fell on each shaky breath. Her only chance at communicating with Nate was gone. She’d have no one to bail her out, no back-up plan. She had to think her way out of this. If she couldn’t outsmart him, she would have to fight.
“You have ten seconds to start talking before we make you,” he said through clenched teeth.
