I stare him in the eyes and do not flinch. I don’t deny or confirm. From this point on, I do not talk. I say nothing until I’m given a phone and then I call my dad and tell him I need Ronin. Ronin, the liar. Ronin, the one who talks for all the Team members if we get in trouble. Ronin. That’s the only name on my mind right now.

“They call him Santino down in Central America. But here in the US, they call him Holy Boy. He’s white with blonde hair—but somehow, he’s the second highest-ranking member of the Mara Perro, Gang of the Dogs.”

“Very interesting. But what’s this have to do with me?” Shit, I just broke the no-talking rule.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Miss Cherlin. If that’s who you are, it makes a lot more sense.”

“How so?”

“I think you know how so.” He grins at me and flashes a dimple. His eyes are a dark blue color and his hair is light. Not quite blond, but not quite brown, either. He’s handsome. That’s probably why they sent him to me. Thinking I’m easily distracted by a pretty face.

“I don’t have time for this. I don’t know that man—”

“He knows you, Miss Aston. He knows you very well. Because he’s sent more than two dozen people here to find you while you’ve been digging down in Peru this summer.”

“What?”

“Did you two have some unfinished business? Before you took on this new identity?” I can’t breathe. “Or some prearranged agreement to meet up in the future?”

I shake my head no. “We didn’t.”

“But you do know him?”

I just gave myself away. I lean on the desk and bow my head to try to think clearly. Agent Jax places his hand on mine.

“Miss Aston, I’m not here to arrest you or pry into your past. I understand your fear right now, I do. Better than most. But if you know him, and if he’s looking for you, you should understand… he’s probably planning on kidnapping you.”

“What?”

“We’ve intercepted several of these men he’s sent to look for you. Three of them confessed to this plot. Now I don’t expect you to tell me much. Just yes or no. Is this man, the one they call Santino, Nicholas Tate?”

I nod. “That’s him. I’d recognize him anywhere. But I haven’t seen him in ten years. I don’t know anything about this stuff. I was in Peru, not Central America—”

“You‘re not under suspicion, Miss Aston.”

“Then why did you ask me here?”

“We don’t want to arrest you, Sasha. We want to recruit you.”

END OF BOOK SHIT