Into Temptation

by Pam Godwin

  “Got it.” She clenched her teeth, tasting blood.

  “We knew all along!” Silvia screamed from across the room. “We knew when you chose her in the basement that you were with Restrepo, you lying, miserable, limp-dick murderer! You’re dead. You’re so fucking dead!”

  She was coming, her voice announcing her approach.

  “Deal with her.” Vera pulled the grenade against her chest, blinking through tears of pain. “I’ve got this.”

  Luke’s beautiful face turned to stone. Cold. Brutal. Lethal.

  He stood, gloriously nude, and just as Silvia reached him, he punched her screaming mouth.

  She went down, and he followed her, caught her by the throat, and wrenched her close, nose to nose.

  The cartel continued to bang on the door, shouting and ramming the steel frame.

  He ignored it. “I came here to free Vera Gomez, kill your brothers, and destroy the cartel. I’m part of a vigilante group. We annihilate monsters. People just like you.” He bared his teeth in a terrifying smile. “I fell in love with Vera the night I saw her fight. You, on the other hand, have repulsed me from the moment we met.”

  Her head hit the floor as he dropped her. Then his fists flew. One punch after another, he bludgeoned her face. She made no noise, no attempt to fight him. Soon, the sounds of wet smacks gave way to crunching bone. He didn’t stop.

  Vera recognized the torment in his eyes. The rage. The haunting nightmares. Silvia had raped him, and she hadn’t been the first. Vera’s heart broke as she watched him unleash eight years of memories in the harrowing drive of his fists.

  He hammered strike after strike, raging in a gruesome trance, long after Silvia was dead. Long after Vera could stomach the macabre sight of blood and bone splattering beneath his blows.

  Romero sat in a huddled ball with his eyes clamped shut.

  “Luke.”

  He didn’t hear her.

  “Luke. Luke! Snap out of it and look at me! I need you!”

  He stopped, stared at his bloody hands, and met her eyes.

  “Time’s up.” Her body felt like ice, her head squishy with fuzz. “I’m losing blood, and you need pants.”

  He looked down at himself, brows knitting as if noticing his lack of clothes for the first time. Rising to his feet, he didn’t give Silvia another glance. He strode directly toward Marco’s corpse, stripped off the suit pants, and dragged them on.

  By the time he returned to her, the blood was gone from his hands. He appeared composed, hawk-eyed, and laser-focused. One-hundred-percent Luke.

  “Romero.” He snapped his fingers. “Stand up.”

  “Don’t hurt him. He designed the cartel’s security system. Really smart kid.” She felt herself fading, her fingers slipping on the grenade. She readjusted her grip. “I promised him amity and protection. He’s coming with us.”

  A period of murkiness flickered in and out, disorientating her. Seconds passed. Or minutes? She was losing her sense of time and awareness.

  Luke was bent over her, his shirtless torso bulked up and strapped with weapons. Expression hard, eyes aglow with green flames, he looked like a rogue soldier, armed and ready for a revolution.

  “Let me have it, baby.” His hands were wrapped around hers, keeping the grenade safe.

  She released the locked grip of her fingers and watched through blurred vision as he passed the small missile off to Romero. Then he removed the heavy artillery from her body.

  A necktie appeared in his hand, one that Marco had worn. He tied it tightly around her thigh above the bullet wound. She cried out and pressed a fist to her mouth, shaking through the unholy pain.

  “I’m so sorry.” He kissed her face and pulled her hand away to kiss her mouth. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “For the second time.” She tried to smile, but her lips were numb.

  “For the last time.”

  As he bent to lift her, an explosion rocked the foundation. The ground shook like an earthquake, and the atmosphere charged with electricity. He spun, grabbing the grenade from Romero’s hands.

  Her ears rang, and the boom lingered in her chest. When the tension released, overpowering relief swept in.

  His team was here.

  As the dust settled, Luke turned to her, thunderstruck. “Tell me that was our guys.”

  She looked to Romero for confirmation.

  “I hooked your friends into my phone’s GPS so they could track us, and vice-versa.” Romero removed the device from his pocket and tapped on the screen. “They’re on the south side. All the activity is there. We should be able to escape out the main gate.”

  “I can’t wait to hear how the two of you pulled this off.” Luke grinned.

  Romero might’ve been a genius, but his story wasn’t much different than hers. Poor Latino boy supporting his poor family. A wealthy, powerful man strolled in, offered him a high-paying job, U.S. citizenship, and a slew of other empty promises.

  She’d learned about him through the gossip of the girls in the estate. The cartel kept him sequestered away from the guests, but with Silvia’s key card, she’d been able to enter his room and take him by surprise.

  Romero wasn’t really a bad guy. He’d made some mistakes, the same as her. Now they were both working toward redemption.

  “The pounding on the door stopped,” she said.

  The explosion had drawn the crowd away.

  Luke glanced at the grenade in his hand, then at the wall near the exit. “What’s on the other side of that door?”

  No way could he carry her, a grenade, and aim a gun at the same time. He must’ve been thinking the same thing.

  “A garden.” Romero looked up from his phone. “Lots of foliage to hide anyone who might be waiting for us to come out.”

  “Stay here.” He strode toward the door, opened it with Marco’s key card from his pocket, and chucked the grenade.

  Seconds later, it detonated with a chest-rattling bang.

  Well, there was no one waiting out there now. But more would come.

  She didn’t know how he planned to carry her to the gate without taking gunfire. But the pain in her leg was eating away her ability to worry about the endless details.

  The persistent pull to close her eyes was grueling. She wanted to sleep, needed it desperately after being awake all night. But Luke probably hadn’t slept, either, and his night had been much, much worse.

  “Here we go.” He crouched over her, gun in hand, more guns strapped to his back, and lifted her into his arms.

  She bit back a scream as her leg jostled and burned with a vengeance. “Remove my vest. It’s bulky. Too heavy.”

  “Not a chance. Hold on.”

  She tried, but the universe was spinning around a black curtain. Daylight speckled in through moments of darkness. Gunfire sounded off and on, muffled pops, as if passing through wads of cotton.

  Then there was nothing.

  “Vera.”

  “Huh?” She woke with a rumbling vibration beneath her and a rumbling voice beside her.

  “Vera. Wake up.”

  She rubbed her eyes and found herself in the luxurious leather seat of a fast car. Like really fast. It flew down a barren road, hugging the turns and growling through the gears.

  Behind the wheel sat the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Red hair glinting in the sunlight, shirtless chest boasting strength and hard work, and powerful hands that knew how to maneuver high speeds, deliver fatal punches, and touch a woman until her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “We’re alive,” she said in wonder, watching trees blur by. In the distance, clouds of smoke billowed on the horizon. “Is that the compound?”

  “Yeah, it’s burning. We hit them hard and fast. There will be nothing left by the time the authorities show up.”

  “How did you get us out?”

  “Your badass haul of guns. I had enough firepower to clear a path to the car. Romero’s safe. None of us were hit.”

  “W
hat about the girls?”

  “Rounded up and protected. This is what we do. Trust me, they’re fine.” His green eyes cut to her and returned to the road. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m in shock, I think.”

  “It’s the blood loss. And the adrenaline dump. You single-handedly took down all four of Hector’s sons.”

  “I had help.”

  “You’re a goddamn warrior. The fucking bullet is still in your leg.” His hand clenched on the steering wheel. “Restrepo’s doctor is waiting on the plane. You’re going to be okay.”

  She believed him.

  She loved him.

  How could she not? They’d been through hell and back together. Sacrificed their lives for each other. Witnessed each other at their lowest, most degrading points.

  Funny how the threat of death opened a person’s eyes. Without tribulation and strife, a woman could go her life and never truly understand the meaning of love.

  Had Vera spent enough time with Luke without all the danger, she would’ve eventually fallen for him. But after everything they’d been through, time had no bearing. After meat hooks, spiders, metal dildos, jealous bitches, and gunshot wounds, their relationship had been tested more in a short period than most couples experienced in an entire lifetime.

  They’d already proved they could overcome anything together.

  “Luke.”

  “Mm?”

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She grunted a breath that tumbled into a pain-laced groan. “You ruined it.”

  “You can still say it. Go ahead.”

  “But now you know what I’m going to say. It’s lost its impact.”

  “Jesus, Vera, don’t you know that every word that passes your lips impacts me? When you say those three words the first time, the next time, and if I’m lucky enough to hear them more times than that, they will have an impact, profoundly, significantly, in every way that matters.”

  She couldn’t feel her injury. Or her legs. He was the cure for pain, pushing it into extinction and replacing it with sublime, soul-deep joy.

  She let her head roll toward him and waited for his gaze. “I love you.”

  He didn’t smile. Didn’t repeat the words back. But it was all in his eyes. The coming together. The collision of souls. The brilliant shine.

  The impact.

  The force was so great she felt it everywhere.

  “Eyes on the road.” Her lips quirked.

  Sprawled in a seat that seemed to be made for him, he shifted through gears with the confidence and fearlessness of a race car driver. He was in his element, driving too fast and taking too many risks. The car suited the man. Sexy as all hell.

  “Is this Marco’s sports car?”

  He made a choking sound. “It’s a hyper…car. A Koenigsegg Agera. Fastest car in existence.”

  As if to prove that, he opened the gas and tore down the road at dizzying speeds.

  There was no one in front of them, but the side mirror revealed a long trail of hypercars behind him, glimmering in every color. She recognized them from Marco’s collection.

  “Where’s Romero?” she asked.

  “In the Lambo.” He flicked a finger at the rearview mirror. “Those are my guys. I doubt they’ll keep up, but they know where we’re going.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Home. Colombia. To see your sister.” He gripped her hand. “We made it, Vera. Just hang on a little longer.”

  She wove her fingers around his and squeezed.

  For him, she would hang on forever.

  Vera lay on her back on a plush sofa in Matias Restrepo’s personal jet. With her head propped on Luke’s lap and a heady flow of pain killers circulating through her system, she floated on a cloud.

  This is what freedom feels like.

  Voices whispered through the cabin. Jet engines hummed, and Luke’s warm hand kept a constant, hypnotic rhythm along her arm, lulling her deeper into tranquility.

  This is what love feels like.

  He spoke quietly with two lethally handsome men who sat across from him. They’d introduced themselves as Tate Vades and Cole Hartman.

  Lucia Dias, sister-in-law to the Restrepo capo, reclined beside Tate with a leg hooked over his knee. The beautiful Latina worked silently on her laptop as Tate absently stroked her inner thigh.

  More vigilantes filled the seats in the front of the plane. Others had stayed behind to sell Marco’s cars, relocate the girls, and clean up loose ends. They were also looking for Tomas. He hadn’t contacted anyone since last night.

  Picar, the cartel’s doctor, hunched over Vera’s exposed thigh, putting his final touches on the wound. She’d already received a blood transfusion and IV fluids. It was no surprise that the aircraft was equipped with the personnel and supplies to treat injuries. Cartel business was bloody.

  At first, she didn’t think the old doctor’s cloudy eyes could see past his own nose. But he’d had no trouble locating and treating all her spider bites, removing the bullet, and stitching her up with tiny thread.

  Speaking of stitches, the man who accompanied Picar wore a smile that had been sewed shut with heavy black thread. Add in his frizzy fluff of black hair, stark white complexion, and dark smudges around his eyes, and the man looked downright ghastly.

  Luke had referred to him as Frizz and assured her that he deliberately sewed his own mouth closed.

  She tried not to stare.

  “All done. You need rest,” Picar said in Spanish, straightened—as much as he could with his crooked spine—and waddled toward the front of the cabin.

  She wished her sister was here. But since La Rocha had been looking for Tula, she’d been forced to stay in Colombia.

  Romero seemed to relax now that he was on the plane and away from La Rocha. He sat on the other side of Luke, talking through the events leading up to the interrogation room.

  “If you had access to all the cameras,” Luke asked, “how did you not see her enter your room?”

  “I was asleep.”

  “And I only had to dodge two cameras between the pond and his quarters.” Vera shifted on the couch, seeking a more comfortable position with a better view of Romero, Luke, and his friends. “I know the location of every camera and their blind spots. It took me a long time to skirt around them undetected. But once I reached Romero’s door, I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with the cameras again.”

  “I woke with this woman straddling my hips.” Grimacing, Romero scrubbed a hand over his black short-cropped hair. “She jabbed the barrel of a gun under my chin, with her eyes all feral, clothes and hair soaking wet, and—”

  “It was an empty beer bottle, not a gun,” she said.

  “I didn’t know that at the time.” Romero dropped his hand. “She started making demands and screaming in my face. I knew immediately she was the girl who won all those fights. I thought for sure she was going to kill me.”

  Luke’s hand never left her, his fingers tickling her neck and gently working the tangles from her curly hair. She drifted into a peaceful place, listening to Romeo explain the rest.

  He was the hero, after all. Without him, she wouldn’t have been able to enter the armory or move through the compound undetected. He’d manipulated each camera they’d approached so that the guards in the monitoring room wouldn’t suspect a breach.

  “I’ll be honest,” Romero said. “Her plan scared the shit out of me.”

  “It was reckless.” Luke gave her hair a scolding tug.

  “Shut up,” she mumbled. “It was brilliant.”

  “You saved us a lot of time.” Cole leaned forward, arms braced on knees.

  The vertical frown lines between his eyes were more prominent than the downturn of his lips. His thick brown beard did a good job of hiding the subtleties in his expression, which was probably a calculated effort. But no amount of hai
r could conceal the beautiful symmetry of his features.

  “When you contacted us,” he said, “we were at least two or three days away from isolating your location. You saved a lot of innocent lives.”

  “And ended a lot of evil.” Luke’s fingers tightened in her hair.

  “It was all her. I was just doing what she asked.” Romero blushed, looking sheepish. “She was pretty convincing once she started talking about how I could earn back my freedom by joining a movement against human sex traffickers. When I got involved with La Rocha, I knew they were criminals, but I didn’t know about the girls and the slave buyers and everything that went on at the compound. I really had no idea what I was getting into until it was too late.”

  He told them about his family in Mexico, their poverty and sickness, and his desperation to help them. He’d been naive, just like her, and they’d both paid the price.

  Romero had been imprisoned in his concrete room at the estate for two years, designing and maintaining the proprietary technology that secured the property. Only Silvia and her brothers had access to his room.

  Vera would bet her last dollar that Silvia had raped the poor kid. Frequently.

  “They threatened to butcher my family,” he said. “I left my parents two years ago, promising to send them money. They haven’t heard from me or seen a single dollar since I left.”

  “We’ll take care of them, kid.” Lucia looked up from her laptop and winked. “You’re one of us now. Tu familia es nuestra familia.”

  Your family is our family.

  Vera felt that in her bones, and it made her eyes heat and dampen. Luke was taking her to her sister, bringing her into his tight-knit family, and giving her a home.

  He was offering her a world of tangible dreams and possibilities.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to show up.” With her head in his lap, she reached up and cupped his scratchy, chiseled jaw. “Romero and I didn’t come to an agreement right away. I didn’t trust him not to use one of his devices to notify the cartel.”

  “And I didn’t trust her not to smash in my skull.” Romero released an anxious laugh.

  “We eventually worked out a fragile truce. Then we spent hours ironing out a plan.” Guilt riddled her. “I took too long.”