“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“That’s…” He stared up at the towering wrought iron bars and reached behind him, sliding his fingers over the welts on his back. “I’ve felt this so many times, trying to figure out… That’s it, isn’t it? He carved those gates on my back?”
Her chin trembled as she nodded. “I think he did it to see if I would find you. That’s why it took me so long. I’ve been searching for gates and—”
“There’s something else.” He moved his hand up his spine.
She edged back, watching as his fingers traced the feminine figure.
“It’s a silhouette,” she said on a serrated breath. “A woman.”
“Show me.” He pointed at the gates before him. “Walk through them.”
A swallow lodged in her throat. She glanced at Cole, who waited patiently behind her, surveying the perimeter. Then she moved to stand in the opening of the gate, facing Tate exactly as it was depicted on his back.
The sun sat high in the sky. If it were a few hours later, it would’ve been at the right height behind her head.
“It’s…” His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Beautiful. You’re absolutely stunning, Lucia.” He twisted to look at Cole. “Is that what my back looks like?”
“Pretty much.” Cole flicked his gaze between the gate and the illustration. “It’s uncanny, really.”
Tate regarded her for an endless moment before he lowered his head and stared at the ground.
“Okay.” He anchored his hands on his hips and made a sharp sniffing sound that almost resembled a laugh. His lips twitched, and he met her eyes. “Let’s go home.”
“Where’s home?” She reached her arm toward him, stretching her fingers.
He caught her hand and squeezed. “Wherever you are.”
CHAPTER 33
Four days later, Tate exited the physician’s room in Matias’ extravagant estate in Colombia. His muscles twitched with restless energy, and something in his chest pinched, urging him to go look for Lucia.
He couldn’t bear to be separated from her. Every time he left her side, it felt as though his limbs were being ripped from his body. He needed to get over that. Missing her was one thing. Smothering her was unhealthy.
He’d visited Picar, the old crusty resident doctor, three times now. But this meeting had been his last, because Picar had just given him a clean bill of health. No infections. No STDs. And other than the scarring on his back and the twinging discomfort in his arm, there was no permanent damage to his body.
He stepped onto the causeway and strolled through an open terrace sitting area. There was no one around, so he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the warm breeze and breathe in the aroma of loam and thriving vegetation.
The estate was expansive and luxurious, ensconced in the Amazon rainforest and protected by the best security available. He’d been here many times, and it always felt like paradise. But it wasn’t home.
When Matias’ helicopter picked them up in Venezuela, Lucia offered to go back to Texas with him. He would’ve preferred that, but she needed to spend time with Camila. She needed a reprieve from the bustle of reality. So he insisted they come here.
From the moment she floated into the shack like an angel, they’d been inseparable. But they hadn’t spent much time alone, without others around. She had twelve years to catch up on with Camila, and he wanted that for her.
She was probably with Camila now, and as much as he craved her and ached to have her in his sights, maybe he needed a moment, too, just to…be.
The last four days had been a whirlwind of reunions and conversations. Everyone was here—Van and Amber, Liv and Josh, Livana and his roommates. Everyone except Kate.
Kate had disappeared the night he was tortured. A month ago, she called Liv from an untraceable number and said she didn’t want to be found. She’d demanded that no one look for her.
Lucia had recalled Tiago Badell saying something about relocating. That he’d found a new interest he was pursuing.
Then there was Tate’s phone conversation with him.
I’ve already taken my payment. Consider this a thank you.
What did you take?
Badell took Kate. There wasn’t a doubt in Tate’s mind. Cole Hartman was out there looking for her. Tate would’ve gone with him, but Lucia had begged. She’d pleaded with tears in her eyes for him to stay.
He would do what he could for Kate and help with the investigation. But Lucia came first. She didn’t want him putting himself in harm’s way, so he wouldn’t.
Leaning against the railing of the causeway, he soaked in the sunlight. What he felt for Lucia was all-consuming. It itched and vibrated beneath his skin. His pulse soared, and his cock hardened just thinking about her, but they hadn’t shared a single sexual moment since before that night in the basement.
They spent the majority of the past four days talking. They analyzed Badell’s mental health, his cruel romanticism, and his motivation for bringing them together in such a brutal way. Tate told her everything he remembered during his time in the shack. She recounted her attack on Badell, their escape from the compound, the prison, and her three-month quest to find him.
She’d also spent some time with the cartel’s cantankerous doctor. The poison Badell had been feeding her was completely gone from her system, but the crash in Peru had resulted in the removal of her uterus. She’d taken the news in stride, turning to Tate to say, “You were a child without a mother once. If you want a baby, I would love to save one.”
Her tenacity and bravery awed him to no end. Several times, he found himself lying beside her on the bed in their room, face to face, content with simply staring at her as she stared back. Christ, he fucking loved her.
She slept beside him every night. She kissed his face when they were in the company of others. She caressed his back every time he removed his shirt. She held his hand when they strolled along the causeway. Every glance she cast in his direction made him want to shred her clothes like an animal and fuck her against the wall. But he held back.
His body didn’t feel like his own. He’d shaved his face, cut his hair, and scrubbed his skin with scalding hot water. But he was wearing borrowed clothes and sleeping in a borrowed bed. He was still underweight, still overwhelmed, and so fucking out of sorts.
On the bright side, he’d completely lost the craving for cigarettes.
So he’d made use of Matias’ gym. His strength would eventually return, but his mind… He wasn’t broken. There was just something stuck there. Something he needed to un-stick.
Part of it had to do with his feelings of failure and the misery Lucia had gone through when he was too weak to protect her.
The rest of it had to do with Van. He’d seen the man around the estate and chatted with him about anything, everything, except what had happened that night in the basement.
He needed to talk to Van privately. And soon.
Decision made, he turned toward the common area to search for him.
“Tate.” Camila’s sweet voice drifted over his shoulder.
He pivoted, grinning instantly at the sight of her huge brown eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She gave his clean-shaved face a quick caress. “Much better. I hated the beard.”
“Yeah?” He rubbed his jaw, silently agreeing with her. “Where’s Lucia?”
“Matias is showing her the citrus grove.”
“Citrus grove?”
She bit down on her smile and hugged her waist. “He grew it for me a long, long time ago.”
Because Matias loved her. He’d loved her his entire life, and apparently, Tate had to go through hell and back to truly understand the meaning of that.
“You know…” He gripped the back of his neck. “The feelings I had for you—”
“I know.”
“It’s different now.”
“I know.” Her eyes glistened as she smiled.
“You’re my closest friend. That isn?
??t going to change.”
“Dammit, Tate.” She pressed the heels of her hands against the corners of her eyes. “Don’t make me cry.”
“Come here.”
He held his arms out, and she stepped in for a hug.
“Lucia’s pretty fucking amazing, isn’t she?” she mumbled against his chest.
“Yeah, she really is.” He nudged her back and held her teary gaze. “We good?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Thank you for finding her. Words can’t express—”
“You’re welcome.” He appreciated her smile, but it wasn’t the one he craved. His heart hammered, begging him to go find Lucia, but first… “Do you know where Van is?”
“Did you check his room?” She motioned toward the east wing. “He doesn’t let Amber out of bed.”
He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll check there.”
Ten minutes later, he stood at the door to Van’s room, fist raised to knock and a million thoughts clashing in his head.
Just say what you need to say. In and out and move on.
He drew in a breath, slowly released it, and rapped on the door.