Page 47 of Dark Reunion

CHAPTER 17

DEAN

He knew something was wrong before he reached the office. The air itself felt charged. A raised voice swearing in Spanish echoed down the corridor, a crash like shattering glass, the heavy thud of furniture meeting stone.

Matteo was standing outside the office door like a statue. Something collided with the wall and shattered just beyond the door.

“Do I want to know?” Dean asked.

“Be careful,” Matteo murmured quietly and Dean bristled.

Shit.

Masking his face, he slowly pushed the door open.

The office looked like a war zone. Papers were strewn across the floor like massive confetti, books torn from the shelves, chairs overturned like discarded trash, and everything on Carlos’s desk had been wiped clean and scattered across the floor.

Carlos stood in the middle of it all, his dark suit immaculate despite the destruction around him, his chest heaving with fury. One hand dripped with blood from a cut across his palm, but Carlos didn’t seem to notice.

“Inútiles! Every last one of them,” Carlos bellowed at the guards pressed against the walls, too terrified to move. “Months of planning, and she slips through my fingers like a ghost. Do you know what that makes me look like?”

“Human?” Came Dean’s dry reply.

He took the chance, knowing he might get shot, and walked into the center of the room. Carlos’ head whipped in his direction, eyes glittering with the unkept rage.

“Careful, hijo.”

Dean looked at the four guards who hadn’t been able to make an escape and nodded with his head for them to leave. They didn’t look for permission from Carlos and raced like kids at recess for the door.

“Close the door,” Dean called out, just as the last one crossed the threshold. The door quickly clicked into place.

Dean moved through the wreckage, kicking a broken frame out of the way. “What is this about?”

“You know what this is about.”

“Do I?”

His father’s glare turned dark and threatening as he balled his hands. “Play games all you want, but I know you are aware that she escaped.”

“Isabella? She’s gone?” Dean didn’t let the relief show. Isabella was breathing somewhere out there. Wolf had understood the warning last night. The Righteous had been closing in, and Dean had taken the chance and called Wolf’s house. It had been a very dangerous play, but he had to try.

“Yes, she’s gone. Who the hell else would I be talking about?” Carlos’s voice broke with rage. He marched over to the little bar and poured himself a full glass from the decanter before taking a drink. “Stolen from me by one of your old Righteous members. One who doesn’t seem to want to get on the same page as the rest.”

Dean held back the smirk. His team that included Wolf was the one he’d spent months with for a single mission. A mission his father chose to compromise and get people they all cared about killed. There was no way in hell Wolf would ever work for Carlos if he found out what was really going on. None of the core he raced across the desert with would.

“Do you know what it means when a Ramírez loses prey? It means weakness. It means we look like idiots.”

Dean stopped in front of him, close enough to smell the sweat and whiskey, to see the flicker of madness in his father’s eyes. “Or maybe it means the prey was never yours to begin with.”

Carlos’s lips curled back. “Funny how my prey keeps slipping away just before I close my hand. How men I know should have no problem finding and taking one girl, and yet…she keeps escaping. Almost as if someone whispers in her ear before I strike.”

Dean’s pulse jumped, but his expression stayed bored. “We’ve been through this before, so I’m really starting to get pissed off that you don’t trust me. Yes, I didn’t want to come back here, but I’ve settled into my role, and have done everything you’ve asked.”

“You keep saying that I should trust you, but how do I know you’re not just playing games with me?” Carlos snarled.

Dean sighed and shook his head like his father was being ridiculous. “You’re being a fool old man.” Carlos’s eyes narrowed, but Dean continued before he could say anything. “I think you need to tighten your leash on Mr. Keene. That man is only interested in the highest bidder, and if someone out bids you…I’m sure you can see how that can become a problem.”

Carlos stepped closer, the cut on his hand dripping red onto the ruined floor. “Or maybe I should tighten my grip here. Inside my own house.”