Page 23 of Targeted By Vengeance

“One? So, we’re not counting the night at my house?”

“I had a gun in your face; that qualifies as a win. And technically speaking, I’m at two to one. You wanna keep talking?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I’m sleeping very well knowing you could’ve killed me, but chose different. Better even when you remind me why.”

The ends of his lips raised the slightest bit, and his perpetually blank expression disappeared for a moment. He only let me see little glimpses of the man he really was inside. For now, I was alright with that. I was willing to work up to unveiling the full masterpiece he was hiding underneath all those scars. I’m sure the view would be worth it.

I turned my attention back to the file and flipped through the rest of the information for the rest of the flight.

Night had fallen on the island by the time we finally landed. On the ride from the isolated portion of the airport to the safehouse, I gazed out the window at the calm beaches and warm lights beaming from house windows. The breeze carried the scent of fresh saltwater and sweet flowers. Although we were here on business, I couldn’t help but imagine being here on a vacation.

My family had their fair share of tropical destinations before, but I rarely enjoyed the trips with my mother’s criticisms constantly in my ear and my stepfather’s ego standing in the way of every event we had planned - no matter how small.

The only enjoyment I found was in the moments Isabelle and I were alone. We’d wake up early to dine at the buffets and sneak out at night to take walks along the wooden paths by the beach. Hell, sometimes if we were lucky, we were able to ditch our parents altogether and spend the day on the beach - just the two of us.

I blinked away the moisture before it could form. Tearing my eyes away from the window, I looked over the center dash at Mateo. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him. Has he been here before? Did his family ever vacation on a tropical island? Did he miss them?

But now, with his gaze focused on the road and our partners sitting in the backseat, it didn't feel like the right time to pester him. Maybe when we had a moment alone, I’d try. Maybe he’d open up just a little bit more.

I nearly gasped at the safe house when we pulled up to it. The two-story home sat nearly by itself, miles away from any others, directly near the edge of the beach. The house was painted white with teal blue shutters and matching roof. A wooden patio lay at the rear of the house, connected by french doors. Balconies protruded from the rooms on the ocean front. Steps offered a path down to the nearly white sand.

“This is yours?” I asked Mateo as we all climbed out of the car.

“Not necessarily,” he replied. “Our handler manages the safe houses. We just have the addresses and the keys.” He nodded towards the front door. “Go ahead inside. Miles and I will bring the bags inside.”

I followed Maria up the porch steps to the front door.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Instantly, a grimace washed over her face.

“What?” I asked.

“Dusty,” she murmured, swiping her hand in front of her face.

As I walked in behind her, I quickly understood what she meant. The place smelled stale, as if it hadn’t been used for a while. Thankfully, there were no legitimate tracks of dust or cobwebs around the corners and floor.

Maria made a beeline for the kitchen pantry and dug around the contents inside. Her hand reemerged with small white and blue candles. She set them down on the marble counters and opened one of the drawers to pull out two lighters. Gathering two of the candles back in her hands, she turned around and pushed them into mine. “Upstairs,” she commanded softly.

Nodding, I walked out the kitchen and headed up the steps to the upper level. From the hall, I could make out four bedrooms and a bathroom. I peeked through the open doors, unsure which rooms the others wanted. They were all nearly identical with queen sized beds and teal blue comforters. The only difference was the position of the windows. One faced the driveway, two faced the ocean, and the last faced the length of the beach. To make it even, I put both candles in the rooms facing the ocean.

As the flame burned on the wick, the scent of eucalyptus and lavender filled the air.

My eyes wandered from the tiny fire to the beach laying just beyond the window. I watched the calm waves kiss the edge of the sand, glittering with the reflection of the stars above it. Mesmerized by the sight, I took a few steps closer to the window and cracked it open.

I stared out at the sea for a few moments, inhaling the fresh breeze and listening to the soft crashes of the waves. The serenity of it all calmed the thoughts I hadn’t noticed were racing through my mind. Memories of Isabelle and uncertainties about my purpose for being here. They faded farther and farther with every drag of the ocean on the sand, until there was only silence left.

The gentle touch of palms settling on my shoulders broke me out of my trance. I nearly broke my neck with how fast I turned it to see the culprit.

Mateo’s chuckle, his voice still more familiar than his face, rumbled through my ears. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, turning back to the window.

His arms slid around my neck as he lay his chin atop my head. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He murmured.

“Yeah.” I relaxed in his grasp and leaned back against his chest. “How long are we staying?”

“As long as it takes to get the job done.”

“I need a number.”