Page 42 of Maddox

Sighing, Charmaine cocked her head toward him, displaying complete relaxation. Although even while wearing the sunglasses, it was obvious she was annoyed. “Mi hermana ha decidido casarse con un imbécil. Incluso después de las acaloradas llamadas, se niega a escucharme. Solo vamos a tomar algo.”

My sister has decided to marry an asshole. Even after the heated phone calls, she refuses to listen to me. We’re just going for the booze.

I did my best to keep a smirk off my face. When she added emphasis by placing her hand on my thigh, I shook my head, fighting the arousal suddenly increasing.

The connection we shared was dangerous.

The soldier continued studying the two of us and our credentials for longer than what was appropriate. To Charmaine’s credit, she simply acted bored and impatient.

“Pasar a través.”

Go through.

He shoved the passports into my hand and waved us on. I kept my eyes locked on the rearview mirror. Just as we were about tocross the border into Honduras, he jerked his head toward our vehicle.

I didn’t need to hear what he was saying as he attempted to stop us from crossing into the country.

It simply didn’t matter.

I slammed my foot on the accelerator, roaring through the open gates.

And hopefully to some sense of safety.

CHAPTER 13

Maddox

“What’s the old saying? If something doesn’t kill you, it’ll make you stronger?” Charmaine’s question was likely rhetorical.

“You are already strong,” I told her, which I meant. She was likely the reason we’d made it out of El Salvador without being shot. While the trip to San Pedro Sula had gone without incident, I’d taken back roads, which had added almost three hours to the seven-and-a-half-hour trip.

At least we’d gotten some food along the way, although she’d barely picked at herbaleadas, the stuffed tortillas a recommendation given her empty stomach. I’d need to get her to eat to regain her strength.

People often thought hiding out was easy to tolerate. In truth, doing so was as hard on the body as it was on the mind.

“Why don’t I feel that way?”

There was no decent answer to her question.

“Because you’re in shock, but alive.”

Her sigh was heavy, her shoulders slumping.

“Stay away from the windows. I need to check the apartment.”

I closed and locked the door behind us, dropping the bags on the tile floor and immediately heading to the set of doors leading out to a balcony. Standing off to the side, I peered out onto the busy street below. While Santiago Barbero had once been a trusted confidant, enough years had passed I certainly couldn’t be one hundred percent certain of his continued loyalty.

At least he’d come through with the use of his apartment. I should say one of them. The man was a millionaire by US standards let alone in a poorer country such as Honduras. The small space was a furnished rental unit and nothing more.

Likely for various ‘friends’ who came into town unexpectedly.

In countries such as the one we were in, men with money were highly sought after by both men and women.

For all aspects of sin and shame.

I’d never grilled him about how he’d amassed his wealth and in turn, he’d provided sanctuary during a time I’d needed it the most.

I moved from one side to the other, keeping my hand on my weapon.

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