“I never worked for the Denver operation. I knew about the meeting through Mendez and I knew high-level officials would be in the reports. I thought some of them might be tied to the missing women in some way. And I’m not stupid enough to think I could do this all on my own, by the way. That list had powerful names on it. If I can tie one of them to the sex-slave operation, even slip it to the press, then I can convince my superiors to take action.”

He glared at her, fury pouring from his eyes. “I could have killed you, Kara. If I was anyone else, I would have killed you. You’re over your head and headed to the bottom of the bay with concrete blocks on your feet. If you think I’m going to let that happen, think again.”

She should have been comforted by his protectiveness. She wasn’t. Not when she was confident he meant to interfere in all the wrong ways in her investigation. “I’m going to find my sister.”

“I’m going to find your sister,” he corrected. “But right now, I’m going outside to make a call. Don’t even think about trying to leave. I’ll be by the door.” He pushed to his feet and headed across the room and down the stairs.

Kara was on her feet in two seconds flat, running for the kitchen and opening a cabinet, pulling a gun out of a box of cereal and then running for the window, hoping she could hear his call. Praying he wasn’t going to call Ignacio or Mendez. Praying she’d been right to trust him.

Cracking the window open, she squatted down and listened, letting the heavy weight of her weapon be her security blanket. When Blake returned, she was going to be ready for him.

***

Kara had too much in common with Whitney, and Whitney was dead. He wasn’t letting Kara end up that way too.

Fighting a bloody flashback of the night Whitney had died, Blake walked down the stairs of Kara’s apartment with every nerve ending in his body jumping. That night, that damnable night, when Whitney had been undercover inside the cartel, lived deep in his soul, a rabid animal clawing away at him, slowing ripping him to pieces. And now Kara was inside the cartel, just as Whitney had been, too close to a man who would slit her throat and forget her before the blade ever left her skin. She was too close to dead, too easily stolen away. It shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he did. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to give a damn about anything but killing Alvarez.