Page 121 of Lethal Abduction

“My point is that the Greeks used the gift horse as bait. The Trojans opened the gates and dragged that wooden fucker right inside their city. The Greeks hid inside it until their enemies were sleeping, then emerged and took the city before anyone knew what was happening.”

“And again,” Abby fires back the moment I stop speaking, “I remind you that the Greeks had an army. Which we do not.”She pauses, but I can tell she isn’t finished. “You don’t even know who you’re looking for.” Her voice changes, the dull resignation in it piercing me more painfully than any of her anger does. “And I’m not going to help you find out, Dimitry. Rodrigo Cardeñas we can plan for. We might even have a chance of getting to some kind of deal with him that will leave us alive. But not this man. I don’t know what you think you’re going to do, even if you can find your way into that compound. But I can guarantee that no matter how capable you might be, when it comes to Mr. Kingpin, as you call him, whatever you’re thinking of is doomed to failure.”

I swallow a very powerful instinct to rip the canvas off and kiss the fight out of her.

Or back into her.

Snarky Abby might drive me crazy at times. But defeated Abby makes me want to kill everything in my fucking path.

“Here’s the thing, Skip.” I struggle to keep my tone light. “My point is that we have the advantage of the unexpected. If my memory of that Greek myth is accurate, it was the abduction of Helen, the famous beauty, that started the war in the first place. And if Mr. Kingpin is as all-seeing as you claim he is, then right about now he’s starting to suspect that is exactly what’s happened—that Rodrigo has disappeared with you.”

To my relief, that elicits a reluctant snort of laughter.

“Apart from the fact that one day you’re going to need to explain to me exactly how you know this much Greek mythology,” Abby says dryly, “and your ass-kissing attempt to equate me with the most famous beauty in history, we’ve still got the same problem with your analogy, muscle boy.”

I grin as I steer the boat. “Enlighten me, Skip. Or should I call you Helen?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

The return of Abby’s native potty mouth makes my grin even wider.That’s my girl.

“My point is,” she says with the long-suffering air that always makes me laugh inside, “that if you’re right, then from where Mr. Kingpin sits, Rodrigo has abducted me from his city. So right now he’s amassing a fucking army to get me back. For all I know, he set Rodrigo up to kidnap me in the first place, as an excuse to wage war on the Cardeñas cartel and take it over. I hate to wreck your myth, muscle boy, let alone your ego, but you don’t even play a part in this story. Nobody even knows you exist.”

My grin fades to a slow, calculating smile. I let the silence stretch out, and I wait.

Come on, Skip. Remind me why I love you so fucking much.

“Holy shit.” She barely breathes the words. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? That’s exactly what you’re banking on.”

There you go.I nod in the darkness, tension ripping through me.Bring it home.

“Mr. Kingpin is going to be looking for Rodrigo,” she says slowly. “Rodrigo will be avoiding him like hell, because he wants the information only I can give him, which means there’s no way he’s going to mention my disappearance. Mr. Kingpin will suspect that I’ve leaked his identity and joined forces with Rodrigo, which will send him hunting Rodrigo. And meanwhile, neither of them know you even exist.”

You’re still missing the point, Skip.

“They don’t know I exist,” I agree quietly. “You’re right about that. But there’s something else they don’t know.”

I wait, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“They have no fucking idea what I’m capable of.” For once, I don’t soften the raw edge in my voice. “And with the greatest respect, Abby—neither do you.”

24

Abby

Thank goodness it’s easy to fake sleep under the canvas.

Because my head is spinning so fast I can’t begin to make sense of everything.

I can’t let him do this.

I didn’t argue when Dimitry finished speaking. In the long hours that have passed since, we’ve stuck to our customary, very safe banter.

I watched his face throughout the little Trojan War metaphor. I saw the savage gleam in his eyes. The way they roamed over the water like fucking Odysseus studying that ancient field of battle. The edgy tension in his powerful body, shifting from one side to the other like a warrior testing his weaponry.

I’ve seen Dimitry in the wild, savage aftermath of a fight. He came to me like that after Miami, when they rescued Roman’s girls: blood and gunpowder still staining his skin, and so fired through with the adrenaline of battle he barely noticed the bullet wounds.

Never once have I doubted his ability to go to war and fucking win.

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