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  Most of his words get lost in the dinging alarm bells when he said “colleague business meeting” and “swap information.” Is this the reason Lukis is here watching him? What information are they going to swap? Lukis told me time and again, he needs to stay in the shadows and not be detected here. It’s limiting what he can accomplish. If Antonio even suspects he’s compromised, they will back out. Whatever is going on, Lukis wants it to happen without suspicion.

  But Antonio doesn’t suspect me. Why would he? He’s looking to support a jobless girl who found herself stranded on the way to Vegas. I’m positive he hasn’t looked at me any deeper than my bra line. I can sneak in, figure out what information Lukis needs, and get back to him before anyone realizes what’s happened.

  It’s the perfect plan.

  The hardest part will be sneaking out of the motel room. It’s not like the Last Chance is a large area. You can see most of the rooms from where we are, including the pool and the dining room, which means if Antonio takes me to the motel restaurant I’m screwed. Lukis could see me in any direction.

  “Bella? Have you decided? You’ll have dinner with me?”

  Out of time, I decide to figure out the rest of it later. “I would love to have dinner with you. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at four. We’ll go to the truck stop for dinner. The place is sure to be lovely.” His words are laced with sarcasm.

  “Is it close?” Lukis mentioned a truck stop before he offered for me to stay with him. While I don’t want to eat with him at the restaurant, I also don’t like the idea of driving off to nowhere with Antonio either.

  “It’s a little distance and dreadful place to eat. But it’s not the motel restaurant so it will do for us. I never like to meet my business acquaintances close to where I’m staying,” he says, sounding like a gangster.

  “That sounds reasonable,” I answer, even though it sounds not reasonable at all. How did I get wrapped up with two crazies?

  “I’ll pick you up at four. Make sure you wear something suitable for the truckers,” Antonio says, laughing as he ends the call like he made the funniest joke in the history of jokes.

  The bathroom door opens. I missed the water turning off over my phone conversation. Lukis steps out into the main room with his lower half covered only by a towel.

  Pity to waste such a view.

  “Who were you talking to?” Lukis asks as I hurry to stuff the phone back under the bed.

  “My uncle.” The lies slip right out of my lips. I’m getting better at the subterfuge. “So, what are your plans?” I ask to hurry and get the attention off my fake phone call.

  Lukis unwraps the towel, and my tongue flips out to run across my lips as the towel falls to the floor. “Sadly, as much as I’d like to fill that mouth of yours, I have to do more surveillance today. Antonio has to be getting close to the drop point. Gambo wouldn’t stay out here for this long for fun.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. The modern décor and overall pretty personality of the Last Chance isn’t enough to draw him in?” I ask with a smile on my face.

  From the way one eyebrow jerks, he is not up for jokes. “No, I don’t think we’re at the place Antonio Gambo sets up shop. And because things have to be getting close to a conclusion, I prefer if you didn’t leave the room today.”

  A lower lip juts up and out. “That doesn’t sound fun. The only thing this place has going is the pool.”

  “Trust me, it’s safer. Now that I’ve learned your lips really are made from sugar, I want to keep them stuck to your face.”

  Aww. He’s so sweet when making such sexist compliments.

  “I think what you said was supposed to be sexy, but you messed it up.”

  Lukis smiles. “I didn’t mess up. You don’t know the things Antonio and his cartel have done over the years.”

  The way he says it makes my stomach crawl, and I wrap the orange comforter higher around my shoulder. “What kinds of things?”

  His head shakes. “You don’t want to know.”

  He’s right, I don’t want to know, but considering I agreed to go to dinner with him, I probably should. Lukis dresses, pulling on a pair of stone-washed jeans and a black T-shirt from the same bag he carried the guns around in.

  When he walks back by the bed, he leans down and takes a second to rub a spot on my ankle through the bed covers. I don’t understand how a man could be so many things. Hard and cold, quick to answer and rude, sexy and sweet, and then there’s the quick moments as this one where he’s almost tenderhearted. The grin on his face reminds me how he was last night. The gentle stroke of his finger on my ankle isn’t meant to turn me on but a quiet gesture between two lovers. It clenches my tummy and makes butterflies sprout to life — all feelings I should not be having after only spending one night with this man.

  “Are you naked under there?” he asks, breaking the mood in his own special Lukis way.

  “The rule was, I had to stay in the room today.” I pop out my foot he isn’t touching and rub my toe against his forearm.

  Lukis smirks, one side of his lips a smidge higher than the other. “If you’re telling me you plan to stay around the room all day today naked. I approve.”

  He pulls on the comforter, exposing my naked breasts to the room. “Lukis!”

  The door rattles as someone pounds on the other side. Lukis and I freeze, both our eyes wide. I hurry to pull the comforter over my shoulders.

  The playful attitude gone, he looks me in the eye saying, “Stay here.”

  I roll my eyes because where else am I going to go. I hope to god Antonio isn’t here to check in on me. This will end badly for everyone.

  Lukis walks to the door and opens it, keeping the gun on the edge of the table within his peripheral and sticking only his head outside. “Horrible timing, man,” he says, stepping back and opening the door.

  An older guy, with his hair sticking up in every direction and wearing a pair of blue overalls, passes a bright orange lunchroom tray to Lukis through the opening. “Sammy promised me a tip.”

  Lukis places the tray on the table and pulls a few dollars from his wallet, giving them to the old man before closing the door in his face.

  “They have room service?”

  He stands between the desk and the bed, blocking my view of what’s happening. “No, they don’t have room service at this dump, but with enough money, you can bribe anyone to do anything.”

  Lukis turns back around holding a large plate with four pancakes stacked on top of one another. Syrup is drizzled over the side and at the top, a tiny baby blue colored candle sticks out from the middle of the top pancake. The small flame flickers and dances around the top as he walks to the bed.

  “Had to pay more for the book of matches,” he says, sitting on the bed beside me as I scoot over to give him more room.

  “This is for me?” I ask, sitting up and putting my back against the headboard.

  Lukis holds the pancakes in front of me at chest height. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Make a wish and blow out the candle before you get wax in your syrup.”

  With a smile, I close my eyes and wish quietly before blowing out the candle. “How did you know it’s my birthday?”

  Lukis pulls out the candle and sets my plate of pancakes and a fork on the nightstand beside the bed. “I looked at your license, remember?”

  That’s right. He did. And I’m still angry about that. It’s just that it feels like it happened so many days ago. A lifetime or two. But it was only a matter of a day. How can you get to know someone so quickly you feel you’ve known him all your life?

  “Eat up and if you spill any on your chest, I’m in charge of cleanup.”

  I roll my eyes but laugh. This playful side of Lukis is one I could get to know better.

  8

  “What are you listening for?” I ask as Lukis hunches over his laptop. One ear bud rests in his right ear as he watches the grainy picture of Antonio and one of his goons talking in his mote
l room.

  Antonio’s room has been upgraded and redecorated unlike ours. The bed sheets are a light color, which shows up white on the infrared computer screen video feed. Antonio sits at a small round table reviewing a stack of papers. Every few minutes, he signs the bottom of one and flips it over onto a pile sitting to his right. Gooney, who’s followed him around since the first day but still has no name in my mind, lounges on one of the double beds. Every few minutes, his hand flicks up, waving the television remote at the screen, probably changing the channel. From the angle of the camera, I can’t see what he’s watching.

  “Antonio took over the business from his father. It’s a standard practice. Every few years, he gets together with another member of organized crime from Oklahoma. In a leather briefcase — they’ve used the same one since the seventies — he carries documents that contain the name and location of every handoff for at least the next twenty-four months. These locations serve as drop points for guns, drugs, even people.”

  “People?” As if guns and drugs weren’t enough?

  Lukis looks up from the computer screen. “Antonio has a finger in the human trafficking market in America, yet we can’t pin any of the Columbian crime bosses with a connection. Karson Kane runs a small underground gambling operation, but the amount of money he launders through central Oklahoma says there’s more to the story.”

  “I assume if you get these names and locations, you could break up their entire ring?”

  “No, they are smarter than that. They caught on the first few times and reorganized, but it would give us insightful information. These papers could nail Antonio to the human trafficking operation.”

  Lukis has not shared this much information about why he’s here before, and I don’t want him to stop now. With a popped hip, I lean against the nightstand eating my pancakes and tap my fingers soundlessly against the top. I’ve been fidgeting all morning. “It’s a big case for you?”

  Lukis laughs. “Definitely still not an FBI agent. We don’t have cases. But yeah, there’s a hefty sum of money involved if I can get these names to my contact back on the East Coast. He has a somewhat vested interest.”

  “Plus, all the people you would save from the drug and human trafficking?” I ask, my fingers still tapping out the rhythm.

  “Yes, those people too, of course.”

  The conversation goes quiet, and Lukis returns to his computer screen, leaving me to suss out my feelings over the matter alone. To be fair, I didn’t ask for his help deciding the right thing to do, but it would be nice to have someone. If all my girlfriends hadn’t gotten married and had babies, I’d have someone to ask advice. Who am I kidding? I don’t need to ask. My friends would tell me to run. I’m sure me sneaking off with an alleged mob boss involved in human trafficking isn’t the smart decision.

  Yet, if this case is so important to Lukis, and he needs this information so badly, he hasn’t had any luck on his own. If I get Antonio by himself, I can find the chance to steal the briefcase for Lukis. I ponder the idea longer, trying not to draw attention my way. When I look at it as being helpful, I have to meet Antonio one more time.

  “There it is!” Lukis practically yells through the room and stands, pushing his chair behind him hard enough it hits the edge of the bed. “Mother fucker. I knew that’s why he’s here.”

  “There what is?” The room on his computer looks the same to me.

  “There!” He points to a small spot on the computer screen. “That’s the suitcase. It wasn’t in his room when I snuck in, so he must keep it on him.”

  I squint from across the room and see a small outline of the top corner of a briefcase. It may be leather. The object shows darker on the black and white feed. Antonio bends down, grabbing the case, and places it on top of the table. He opens the latch, and then, with care and precision, lays a stack of papers out, dividing it into two different piles inside the case. It can’t be over ten pages yet he acts as if they’re his newborn baby.

  “It’s the same case every time,” Lukis mutters to himself, sitting back down. “I have to figure out how to get it and get it back without being noticed.”

  Well, that seals the deal. I’m definitely meeting with Antonio today. There hasn’t been a briefcase with him either of the two times I’ve seen him, but something tells me he’ll have it tonight. Maybe in the car or trunk.

  Antonio stands from the table and turns, saying something to the guy on the bed before walking into the bathroom.

  “He said it’s time to roll,” Lukis says leaning toward the speakers on the laptop as if that will help him hear.

  My stomach tightens, and I stop drumming out my fingers in nervous anticipation. “You think he’s going to make the handoff?”

  Lukis considers it for a moment. “Yes, it’ll happen tonight. I need to get ready, intercept them before they get there.” He turns examining me. “You’ll be okay here by yourself?”

  I hold up two fingers in front of my shoulder. “Scout’s honor.”

  Lukis rips the earbud from his ear and grabs the green bag containing his guns–before walking into our bathroom. I don’t plan to point out how much his actions mimic Antonio’s. “I need to get ready.”

  Two men. Two bathrooms. Two very different objectives.

  My mind fills with images of Lukis rubbing camo paint all over his face, trying to blend into the desert surroundings. When the door closes, it’s time for me to get into action too. The alarm clock in the room shows three-fifty in bright neon red numbers. I need an excuse to get out of here.

  My hand brushes the freezing cold ice bucket Lukis filled a few hours ago. I stop and stare at my escape plan as the idea forms. With another quick push from my hand, the bucket falls off the dresser with a muffled clang on the carpet.

  Lukis opens the bathroom door. “What’s that?” he asks, a gun pointed in the room.

  I freeze with my hands in the air like a criminal caught in the act. An increased heart rate slows me down, but I control my breathing. “Calm down. I knocked over the ice bucket. I’ll run downstairs and fill it quick.”

  Lukis’ eyes narrow, and he looks at me in the same way my high school principal would when he was trying to decide if I was lying. “Fine, but don’t talk to anyone and come right back.”

  This time, I fib while my head is to the ground as I pick up the spilled ice and drop it back in the bucket. “Of course. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

  Lukis closes the door to the bathroom at the same time I open the room door. It closes, and I realize I should have left a note, but without the key — I left that sitting on the table — there’s no way to get back in without notifying Lukis. I’ll have to text him once I’m in Antonio’s car.

  On the other side of the room door, I stop and take three deep breaths. I’m not really a risk-taking woman, but being with Lukis stirred something deep inside me. If there’s a chance I can help him get this information, I will. I walk away from the door on the lookout for Antonio’s car, and a wave of guilt almost knocks me off my feet. Luk is a man who had pancakes delivered to our room with a birthday candle. Here I am, my first day of thirty, sneaking off to meet up with a criminal mastermind. All Lukis asked of me is that I stay in the room and away from the exact person I’m running headfirst to meet. It’s possible that even if I get this information for him, he’ll kill me himself.

  Since I’m this far into the plan, I can’t stop now. Calm and determined is the look I try for as I walk to the ice machine. If any other guests were to see me, I look like a random regular motel patron out to fill my bucket. A black car pulls up beside me, and I gulp in a lungful of air. The back window rolls down, and I stop walking, trying to put a smile on my face.

  “Are you ready, Bella?” Antonio asks, his head halfway out the window.

  “Oh,” I say, trying to look surprised like I didn’t watch his car pull up beside me while I tried to talk myself out of this crazy-assed plan. I hold up the ice bucket. “I was getting more ice. I did
n’t realize it was almost time.”

  “Well, it is, and I don’t like to be late. Get in. Get ice when I bring you home.” His voice is rough and short, sounding hurried and a little mean. He’s never taken this tone with me. Maybe now I’m seeing the true colors of Antonio . . . or I notice it now that I know who he really is.

  I set the ice bucket on top of the machine and pull my cell from my back pocket. Before getting into the car, I send Lukis a quick text.

  HANNAH: I’m safe. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry. I’ve got this under control.

  If I say it in text, it has to be true, right?

  I hit send and turn my phone to silent so I can’t hear his replies. Any message he’s sending me now is sure to be pissed off and sweary. As I slide into the seat next to Antonio, I see a brown leather briefcase sitting on the floor next to his feet. I long to reach out and touch it, but I stop before I do. I can’t give anything away.

  9

  “Well, it’s not the Ritz, but it’s the best we can do in our current location,” Antonio says, opening the door to the local truck stop. It’s the only place besides the motel diner to get food around here.

  The place is like I pictured it when Antonio said we’d eat at a truck stop. Old leather booths and a long countertop where guys eat wearing baseball caps hunched over a plate of food. There’s a bathroom to the side and at least four pots of coffee brewing behind the counter. I’ve never been a person to drink coffee in the afternoon, but my years of hospitality have shown me I’m the odd one out. People drink the brown sludge any time of the day.

  Antonio and his briefcase pass me as he slides into the booth first. The corner of the leather box bashes me in the knee. Everyone sure is going to a lot of trouble for this outdated piece of luggage that’s older than I am.

  As soon as the three of us — me, Antonio, and the aptly named Gooney — sit, a waitress plops down three menus and asks for drink orders.