“Yes, me.”

The expression on Montez’s face told all. Nathan had thought he’d take pleasure in the man’s shocked recognition. Instead, he felt sick to his stomach. Conflicting emotions assaulted him, unbidden.

Loathing of the vicious thing inside him.

Fear of being two people locked in the same body.

Shame at the knowledge.

But, worst of all, hatred. Acidic and crippling. He owned a hatred so strong, it had permanently etched itself onto his soul. And all because of this sadistic shithead. The temptation to unleash the other and grant it vengeance was strong.

“But— but you’re—”

“Dead?” He yanked Montez close and squinted. “Do I look dead?”

“But they found your body at the camp.”

He slapped Montez’s face. “Do I feel dead?” He drew his Predator knife and brought it up to eye level. “Shall we get started?”

“Wait!”

“For what?”

“My men are holding a man and his daughters. An important man. I’ve given them orders to kill all of them, and I’m the only one who can call it off.”

He moved the knife to the side of Montez’s face and pressed the tip into his cheek. A bead of blood formed.

“Please, stop. I’ll call it off.”

“Where’s your cell phone?”

“Pants.”

Feeling revulsion, he reached into Montez’s pocket.

“Listen up, Monty. Cooperate and you’ll earn a few brownie points. And trust me, you’re going to need them. Tell your men you killed me, but you were shot in the process. Order them to return to the marina immediately without killing anyone. Tell them to sit tight until they hear from you again, no matter how long it takes. You got that?”

Montez nodded.

How much time did he have? The sirens he’d heard earlier had gone silent. Were the police already here, entering Belmont Park right now?

“Put it on speaker and make the call. Do you normally speak Spanish?”

“No.”

“If you’re lying—”

“I’m not. I make my men practice English as much as possible.” Montez had grown calmer. Perhaps blood loss was taking a toll.

“Make the call.”

Montez complied, and Nathan listened to the brief conversation for anything sounding like code. As far as he could tell, Montez did exactly as told. Nathan took the phone back.

“You don’t have to torture me. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“Hurting me won’t solve anything.”

“I strongly disagree. I have a bullwhip in my closet with your name on it. But first, we’re going to walk out of here.”