Page 91 of Everything We Found

“You sure you should be here?” he asked. The question came out uncharacteristically cold.

She lifted her chin. “This is urgent, Nick. Can you tell Aimee I’m here?”

“Wait here.”

For the first time in her life, he didn’t invite her inside. The partial closing of the door felt symbolic of what had happened to their friendship. It wasn’t completely closed off, but it was barely open. Through the gap, she could hear them in the backyard. The clink of silverware on plates. Voices that abruptly died. Nick was announcing her arrival. She could easily picture Aimee reaching for Ian’s hand as she told Nick to send Nadia away.

Swallowing her pride and pushing away the hurt, Nadia did what she had to do. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, following the familiar path through the house to the backyard.

“I don’t want to see her,” Aimee said just as Nadia stepped into view.

“Too bad because I’m already here.”

Kristen’s head lashed back, eyes narrowing. “You’re a real piece of work showing your face here.”

“Nick pretty much said the same,” Nadia replied evenly, trying not to let their insults dig their hooks into her. “I get it.”

Ian started to rise from his chair. “Whatever you came to say, I don’t think now is a good time. Emotions are running hot.”

She respected Ian playing the peacekeeper. It was why he had been so much better for Aimee than James ever was. He stood up for her. Supported her as she deserved.

“Hate me all you want,” Nadia said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “As much as I wish this was about me, it’s not. It’s about saving Thomas and hopefully his mother. Let’s be honest. The Hidalgos won’t be satisfied with just him. They’ll never release Claire, not alive. And James very well could be next because they won’t stop with Tom. Have you been watching the news? They’re kidnapping, torturing, and murdering everyone involved in bringing that cartel down.”

Kristen’s eyes widened, a ripple of unease crossing her face. “What do you expect to do if you find him? You’re just one person and you’ll probably get killed in the process.”

“Probably,” Nadia admitted. “But at least I’d die knowing I tried.”

Aimee shook her head, Ian’s arm tightening around her shoulders. “You all do realize she’s talking about Thomas. He lied to us, and hurt us all. They both did.” She pointed at Nadia, her voice vibrating with fury, the old pain and trauma manifesting in her trembling lips.

“He did it to save his brother and to keep you—all of us—from also getting killed,” Nadia countered.

“He went too far,” Aimee argued.

“Because he loves us. We’re his family.”

Kristen scoffed. “Were. He has a horrible way of showing he loves us.”

Nadia’s gaze drifted over them, their expressions of abject horror over the thought of helping him. Only Nick didn’t meet her stare. Mouth pursed, he gazed over the pool that had a pink unicorn floating in the center. Nadia was reminded of the photo Aimee’s daughter, Caty, insisted her mom display in her office. The six of them—her, Aimee, Kristen, Nick, James, and Thomas as kids swimming in Nick’s parents’ pool. All Thomas had ever wanted was connection. It wasn’t every day you had the privilege of knowing someone who fought so hard to keep family together. Whether that was his family, or hers. Or theirs, she thought, looking over her lifelong friends.

“They tortured Phil before they murdered him,” Nadia said quietly. “They tied him to a tree, cut off his hands and feet, and carved an H in his stomach. Then just before he bled out entirely, they shot him in the head. They wanted him to suffer.”

Kristen covered her mouth on an alarmed gasp. Aimee’s face drained of color. Ian swore under his breath. But Nick. He held her gaze, a muscle throbbing in his cheek.

“We’re afraid Claire’s next, if she isn’t dead already. Then it will be Thomas… and James. His boys…”

“What do you need from us?” Nick asked finally.

“I just want to reach James. He’s my only hope of talking Thomas out of this madness. He might even know where he is.”

Nick retrieved his phone and tapped his screen. “Got your phone on you?”

“I’ve been using a burner.”

“What’s the number?” She rattled it off and the swoosh of a sent text sounded. “Done.”

Nadia’s phone buzzed. She sagged with relief at the sight of James’s contact card.

“Thank you,” she said, and when none of her friends said anything back, she turned to leave, only to stop. Thomas had his faults. Some would say he deserved their indifference. She’dthought the same a time or two over the years. Even believed it of herself because of her deceit. But he didn’t deserve to die at the hands of Fernando “The Butcher” Ruiz. Nobody did.