Deadly Games - Cate Noble [31]
Gena closed the lid on the box, her mind made up. Lupe’s grandmother needed to know what had happened. And Gena needed to get out of town. Screw Rocco and the Agency. She didn’t want a safe house or protection. No one had offered those to Lupe.
Leaving the box in the car, Gena hurried inside, suddenly frantic to head out. She ignored the pain of the myriad small injuries, showering and washing her hair in record time even though hampered by her sprained wrist.
After pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, she tossed clothes and toiletries into a small suitcase. The extent of her logistical problems sank in as she packed.
Her purse had been lost in the fire along with her cell phone and wallet. That meant no debit or credit cards. And no driver’s license.
She pulled the metal file box out of her closet and dug out her passport and birth certificate. She had a little cash, less than two hundred dollars, which she crammed into her pocket.
Her credit cards would take days to replace. And any type of request along those lines would leave a trail that could easily be followed.
She could make it short term without credit cards, could swing by the bank where she knew the tellers for more cash on her way out of town. But there was no surviving without a driver’s license. She was going to have to visit the DMV for a replacement.
And ultimately crossing into Mexico was going to be risky. If Rocco was right about their connection being uncovered after all these years, then whoever was after him had damn good contacts. Dangerous contacts.
Gena glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Twenty minutes had passed since she’d left the hospital. Had Rocco discovered her ruse yet?
Another memory from the past surfaced. Once in desperation, she’d prayed Rocco would come for her … to rescue her.
He hadn’t. She’d survived.
And she would survive this time, too. The same way she’d survived every other crisis in her life: alone. She closed her suitcase. Right now, she just needed to get away.
A knock sounded at her front door. Gena froze, knowing who it was. Would Rocco go away if she didn’t answer?
The knock repeated. Part of her wanted to open the door and tell him flat out that she wanted nothing to do with him or the Agency.
Another part wanted to lash out, to make him feel the pain she’d suffered. Did he even realize what she’d been through?
Moving closer, she peered out the peephole. It wasn’t Rocco, but the man on the other side was vaguely familiar. Tall. Dark. Hispanic. More wiry than muscle-bound. She’d seen him somewhere before.
It took her several seconds before she realized where. It had been years ago. During her previous life as an Agency wife. No doubt this man worked with Rocco. Had been sent to collect her.
She jerked open the door. “Tell Rocco I’m not going anywhere with him.”
Instead of answering her, the man forced her backward and closed the door behind both of them.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
He didn’t reply.
Alarm morphed into fear. Gena turned to run but he grabbed her arm. She kicked him, hard, her foot connecting with his right thigh as he blocked the blow from its intended target.
“Let me go!” she cried.
He did. Suddenly. She stumbled to the side, but as she tried to make a second break for it, he grabbed her arm again, spinning her in a semicircle before snapping her back against his side.
It was then that she saw the knife in his hand. She went still.
The man continued to hold her pinned with one arm, leaving the other hand free to flourish the blade in her face.
He smiled, perfect white teeth sliding slowly into view as his lips parted. “That’s better.” He spoke with a Hispanic accent that was different from what she heard locally. “Come along peacefully and you will not be harmed.”
Too late, she realized her memory had played her for a fool. Whoever this bastard was, he wasn’t with the Agency. Most likely, he worked for whoever was after Rocco. And chances were he was one of the men responsible for the fire. For Lupe’s death.
Gena tried to remain