Page 52 of Nick
“Because you always look for trouble.”
“Trouble finds us.It’s what keeps life interesting.”
“Interesting isn’t always good.”
“Good is a matter of perspective.”Karla’s desire for control over the situation—and over Gregory—burned bright inside her.
“Vincent will be back soon.You can take it up with him.”
“Where is he?”she demanded again, her voice echoing off the high ceiling of the living room.
Gregory’s broad shoulders tensed as if he was bracing for a blow.“We just left the Last Strike Mine.”
Karla’s nostrils flared slightly, showing a flash of the wolf inside as she processed the information.The Last Strike Mine was Vincent’s personal den of horrors, a place where enemies became prey.“And who,” she asked slowly, “is Vincent entertaining in his little torture chamber this time?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Liberty?”A cruel laugh escaped Karla’s lips.“You forget your place, Gregory.I am Vincent’s mate, his equal.Your silence is an affront not just to me but to him.”
Gregory’s posture shifted, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement that Karla caught immediately.She knew that stance—it was the one of a man who had given up on keeping his mouth shut.
“Vincent and I dealt with Sarah Sanchez,” he said.“We’ve left her…in Percy’s care.”
Karla felt a twinge of satisfaction at the confirmation.
“And the boy?”
“What boy?”
“Her son, you idiot.”
“Her son?”Gregory seemed momentarily thrown, his brow furrowing.
“Where is Sarah’s son?”she asked.She took a step forward, the soft click of her boots echoing ominously in the quiet room.
Karla could see it—the flicker of uncertainty in Gregory’s eyes.
“Sarah’s son,” she repeated, leaning closer, her tone laced with a dangerous calm.
“I—I don’t know.”Gregory’s admission hung in the air.“I don’t know where the kid is.”
Karla’s lip curled in disdain.How could Vincent depend on such incompetence?
“Useless,” she muttered under her breath.“Men are idiots.”She turned her back on Gregory, dismissing him and heading toward the door.
Gregory watched her leave, his figure shrinking in her peripheral vision.She didn’t bother to look back—there was nothing behind her worth seeing.
Karla’s black sedan devoured the distance to Sarah’s trailer house, dust plumes trailing behind her.
She parked, then stepped out into the scorching heat, the desert air wrapping around her.Squinting against the harsh light, she approached the weathered trailer and rapped sharply on the door, the sound echoing hollowly.
The door swung open, revealing Una, her gentle eyes wide with surprise.“Karla.What brings you here?”
Karla didn’t miss the protective stance Una took, shielding the young boy, who peeked out from behind her.
Javier—Sarah’s little secret keeper.
“Expecting someone else?”Karla allowed her impatience to seep into her tone.Her gaze flickered to Javier, assessing him coldly.He was the key, whether he knew it or not.
