“I moved here to start a new job that fell through during my relocation, but I assure you I need the work, and I’ll work hard.”
“I am quite certain you will. Leave us to talk, but when my business is done here you’ll join me for dinner. In other words, you are to remain free of other obligations.”
“What? No I-” He arches a brow and I quickly amend. “I’m sorry. I just…I need the tips tonight. I do appreciate the offer though.”
“I’ll be leaving a five-hundred dollar tip. So you’ll have dinner with me. Now, leave us.”
I jolt with the command, my heart thundering in my chest, while my feet move of their own accord, leading me up the stairs. Once I’m there, I’m not sure what to do with myself. I’m more than a little uncomfortable with being ordered to dinner, but considering the cost of living in this city, I need that five hundred dollars. Not sure what to think of any of this, my gaze scans the restaurant and catches on Heather, a waitress who befriended me my first day, heading in my direction. I dart forward and intercept her before she reaches the bar.
“Why do you look panicked?” she asks, blowing a lock of blonde hair from her eyes.
“The owner of the restaurant is here and-”
“Michael Alvarez is here?”
“Yes and-”
“Do you know who he is?”
My brow dips. “What do you mean?”
“The leader of one of the biggest cartels in the country.”
“What? He’s the leader of a cartel?”
“Oh yes,” she says. “He has money and he’s kind of sexy, or so I hear. He never comes in, but I Googled him, and he’s scary. So very scary.” She touches my elbow. “I have a cranky customer. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to get him his drink.” She darts around me and I stand there, shell-shocked, and well…shell-shocked. It takes me almost twenty seconds to realize that I should be calling my sister who’s an FBI agent.
I rush toward the hallway and the offices, cutting down the hallway, and instead of going to the employee locker room, I enter the bathroom to my right. Walking to the last stall, I enter and shut the door, locking up before leaning on the solid surface, already removing my phone from my pocket to punch in my sister’s number. It starts ringing and dang it, it goes to voicemail, the way it often does for months on end when she’s undercover. I don’t even know if she will get my message but the beep sounds and I say, “Kara. It’s Myla.” The bathroom door opens and I silently curse being forced to leave a generic message. “Call me. Please.”
Leaning my head on the hard surface, I wonder what it is about this family that sends us into a collision course with really bad people, which has me considering my options. Alvarez is the kind of man that my father and sister have devoted their lives to shutting down. The kind of man who killed my parents. So I should get the hell out of here, leave and go to a temp service tomorrow, and for those very reasons, and more, I’m justified and smart for doing so. No one knows how dangerous Alvarez is, simply because of what he is, more than me. Decision made, I decide to call anyone I can in the FBI to reach her, the instant I’m out of here. Pushing off the door, I open it and gasp to find a man with a long scar down his cheek standing in front of me.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Mr. Alvarez requests your company, which means I’ll need your phone, and I’ll need to search you.”
“What? No. No. I don’t agree.”
His lips twist in an evil grin. “I don’t remember asking.”
Chapter One
Kyle
Present day – Dallas, TX
“Holy hell,” I murmur, glancing in the rearview mirror of the black classic Mustang I’m driving, my gaze catching on the white pick-up two vehicles back, and the outline of two familiar people inside it. Scowling, I grab my cellphone from the drink holder to hit the call button. “Siri,” I command. “Dial Whataburger,” I say, my favorite burger joint, code for the number connecting my temporary phone to Royce Walker’s.
“Dialing Whataburger,” Siri replies, and I decide right then that she’s the only woman in the Walker Security regime that actually follows orders. The ex-FBI agent in that damn truck behind me sure doesn’t, but then neither does the ex-ATF agent sitting next to her that I usually call my friend and boss. Royce ordered him to hold down the fort for Walker Security in New York.
“Yeah?” Royce answers gruffly.
“Blake and Kara are here, tailing me, and if they don’t know I’m about to meet with a bigwig inside the Alvarez cartel, they will if you don’t get them off my ass.”