Freedom (Blackstone Series Book 3)

by J. L. Drake

  “Javier wanted to mend fences with the family, without knowing the true family secrets. When your father got wind he was at Bash’s, he sent…” She trailed off as the pain switched to anger.

  “Sent who?” Mama’s face looked pained, and I drew in my lips and bolted out of the room, down the hallway, and down the stairs.

  “Catalina, no!” Mama screamed after me.

  “Abel!” I whirled around in the entryway, knowing he was never far. “Where are you, Abel?”

  “Catalina, don’t open this up. You will not be allowed to leave.”

  “I don’t care anymore!” I was finished, finished with it all. “Ah!” How could he kill his own son?

  “Catalina,” my father snapped at me from a doorway, and I saw red. If you could taste what pain was like, I could in that moment. It swirled my taste buds like a soda popping at the tiny nerves. “We have a visitor.” His nostrils flared at me and dared me to act out again. “Perhaps you could have your conversation outside.”

  Just when I went to attack, a man stepped out with an intense look. He ran a hand through his long mohawk, and I took in his entire appearance.

  He looked like Lucifer’s son.

  He stole my words and made me step backward, needing that extra space. “You must be Catalina,” the man said with a deep, gritty tone. “Why don’t you come and join us?”

  What?

  My mother had begged me to obey, and I found my feet moving without my consent.

  “Behave,” my father hissed, and my hand twitched to tear his chest apart and claw out his useless heart.

  “Your time is coming, Father,” I used my best American accent just to dig the knife a little deeper, “and I really hope I’m there for it.”

  His hand reached out, but our guest cleared his throat, and my father switched back to his host mode.

  “Catalina, this is Trigger. He runs a motorcycle club in LA.”

  I extended my arm, and it shook while I waited for him to take it, then dropped it as he didn’t reciprocate. He just kept his intense gaze on me. Slowly, his head tilted to one side then the other as if to crack his neck, and then he ran a finger across his top lip and down his beard.

  “I’m happy to hear you are thinking of joining forces with us again.” My father tried to fill the silence. “We’ve missed the Devil’s Reach. Speaking of which, how is your father?”

  That made him break his gaze with me, and his pupils dilated. “Dead.”

  “Oh, shit,” Salvador huffed. “My condolences for your loss.”

  “Not necessary, no loss.”

  My father seemed razzed by this man, and I saw an opportunity.

  “Devil’s Reach?” I pointed to his vest. “Any affiliation with the Stripe Backs?”

  “No,” he nearly hissed.

  “Well, that’s good,” I twisted my head to see my father, “because my father tried to do business with them a few months ago.” My father’s eyes widened, and I smiled sweetly. “Remember, I have ears too.”

  “That so?” Trigger shifted his intense green eyes to stare at Papa. “Unlike my father, loyalty is what’s most important to me in a business deal.”

  “I was under the impression you weren’t looking to work with us anymore.”

  “Mmm,” Trigger mused over my father, who shot me a look of death. It didn’t go unnoticed that my father’s hands were shaking.

  Who the hell was this guy?

  Trigger’s phone rang, and he pulled it out. “I need to take this.” He stepped out of the room, and I felt the mood shift.

  “You stupid little culo,” my father hissed, and his jaw started to tick, “if you screw up this opportunity for me, I will kill you myself.”

  I shut down.

  He was ready for a swing, but he pushed me to the floor and leaned down and slapped me across the face.

  “You think you can touch me? You need a reminder of who is the king of this house.” He went to hit me again, but Trigger had returned. He reached out and held his arm back without effort. Then he took a step toward my father and pointed a finger in his face.

  “If Denton gets word that your girls are black and blue, he’ll look elsewhere for help.”

  My father’s face reflected a series of emotions, but the one that came across most was confusion. His brows pinched, and his mouth slacked open.

  “Denton and I have an understanding,” Trigger snarled, inches from his face.

  “She’s not a runner, she’s my daughter. She’s not even in the family business, so bruises don’t matter.”

  “Not when I tell the story,” Trigger threatened, and my father took a step back.

  Damn, that was really impressive.

  “Sal?” Roman held up a hand, knowing it was a bad time. “A word?”

  To my shock, my father agreed. He answered his phone and stopped to have a conversation at the door of the room.

  “Do you know who I am?” Trigger directed his attention back to me.

  “No,” I shook my head, confused, “should I?”

  Trigger leaned down, and the leather on his cut made a noise against his muscles. His long fingers skimmed the mohawk out of his eyes so he could see me better. He lowered his voice. “We share the same friend.” The smell of pot found my senses.

  I squinted and tried to understand how someone like Trigger could know the same person as I did.

  “Catalina, it’s time to go.” My mother stood next to my father. He must have sent her in. “Let’s go.”

  I nodded, but Trigger leaned in closer. “Go home so he can stop worrying.” I frowned for him to elaborate. “Mike.

  The air was sucked from my lungs before my mother tugged me out of the room. What? I didn’t have time to process what Trigger had said before I was dragged from the house.

  “I love you so much, Mama.” I hugged my mother as I stood near the truck and buried my head in her neck, needing a moment to relish the feeling. “Thank you.”

  Her shoulders shook, and I knew this might be the last time I’d get to hug someone who truly loved me back.

  “I love you, Catalina. I always have and always will.” She brushed my tears away before she kissed my forehead once more. “Make sure she gets home, Abel.” My blood rushed to the surface as he slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “He’s not the one to be angry at.” She tried to calm me. “Let me deal with your father my way.” She lifted an eyebrow, and it was amazing to see that side of my mother. She was actually insanely strong and had my father by the balls.

  Closing the door, she kissed my hand one last time before the truck roared to life and I watched her grow smaller in the mirror.

  I waited until we stopped for gas to pull my suitcase out of the back of the truck when Abel went inside to pay. Everything was cash with my family, no paper trail.

  “Where are you going?” He sounded tired and not up for a fight.

  “You promised me once you would always take care of me.”

  “Okay.” He looked annoyed.

  I stared at him, too tired now with everything that had happened to show the depth of my anger. “Did you kill Javier? Or just deliver him to my father?”

  His mouth dropped open, and shame spread through his eyes. “Catalina…”

  “Oh, my God!” I shouted, finished with this shit. “Just answer the damn question!”

  He sniffed and looked away for a moment, and when his eyes returned, I saw how weathered he was. His soul seemed battered, and the lines around his mouth deepened. Abel was part of my family, and for once in my life, I saw it that way.

  I bit on my lip to stop my chin from quivering, and he mirrored my actions. We were both at a standstill, and it tore at me.

  “Just be honest.” I needed to know.

  “I…” he cleared his throat, “delivered him.”

  My heart bled. I couldn’t imagine how confused my brother must have been when a boy he grew up with, his dear friend who was in love with his sister, betrayed him
. I stepped back and shook my head when he went to touch me.

  “I have to,” I closed my eyes, and my tears spilled over, “draw a line here.”

  “Catalina, please,” he begged, but all the happy memories I had of us turned to smoke in the air and faded into the wind. “I’m sorry.”

  “I believe you, Abel.” It took all my willpower, but I looked up at his panicked eyes. “You need to leave, now.”

  “No.”

  I shrugged. “You gave up the right to help me when you…” I couldn’t do it anymore. I grasped the handle of my suitcase, and I left my first love in the parking lot of gas station.

  So classy.

  Twenty minutes into my journey to the next town, I heard the roar of a bike. I stepped off to the side and covered my face for a possible dust cloud heading my way.

  To my surprise, the engine dropped a few gears, and I suddenly felt nervous not having a weapon on me.

  Trigger, of all people, slowed his bike and stopped next to me. I looked down at his dusty boots and wondered what to say.

  “What the fuck are you doing, girl?”

  I dropped my suitcase and glared at him. “I’m going home.” My tone held no nonsense.

  His mouth curved up like he was impressed, then he pressed a button on his helmet. “Brick, tell Morgan to bring the van up front. We have a passenger.”

  Wait, what?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mike

  5 minutes ago

  I was under a truck and full of oil when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I awkwardly tapped my earpiece and waited for it to connect.

  “Irons.”

  “I just left,” Trigger grunted, sounding pissed.

  I pushed myself out from under the truck.

  “And?”

  “I just lost my tail.” He paused. “She’s okay. But, shit, that place isn’t for her.”

  My head thumped, and I closed my eyes.

  “Look, man, something is brewing in that house. I can feel it. Catalina knows something, and the way she talks to her father tells me it’s not anything small.”

  “Okay, thanks, man.”

  “I made sure to mention Denton, and I can say he believes you for now. They were strappin’ the girls when I arrived. Your Catalina is smart. She outed her father on trying to make a deal with the Stripe Backs.”

  “Really?” Again, every time my heart hurt for her, confusion followed and took its place. “Was she hurt at all?” I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know.

  “Don’t ask questions like that.” He cleared his throat, knowing I wouldn’t let the topic go. “They were rough with her, but nothing she can’t handle.” He chuckled. “She reminds me of Tess a little.”

  “Yeah.” I half smirked. She did have some hidden talents, like knowing how to shoot large weaponry.

  “Just get your ass to her this weekend and be done with it. Something tells me if you leave her there much longer, she’ll make shit happen herself.” I could hear the warning in his tone.

  “Thanks, man.” I hung up and headed toward Keith’s office. Logan had been using it since we got back from Salvador’s house.

  “Damn,” Cole cursed as I opened the door.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Salvador has been calling the prison trying to get a call through to Denton. I think they might back out.”

  “They won’t.” I knew it was risky to share, but it was Cole, one of my brothers. He’d be angry, but he’d understand.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Trigger just left there.” I held up my phone. “Said he gave our alibi some credibility.”

  “How’s Catalina?”

  I took a careful step forward. “Okay for now.” I studied his face. He wasn’t making eye contact. “You’re not mad?”

  “Who do you think called him?”

  That made my mouth open. “You called Trigger?”

  “I did.” He finally glanced at me.

  “But that’s a gray area, and you don’t go into the gray.”

  “Savannah showed me that a gray area exists whenever the heart is involved.”

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and went back to his paperwork, but just when I got to the door, he called out my name. “Irons?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Not to anyone.”

  His phone rang, and he looked back at me. “It’s time.”

  We got word to ship out, and all communication with the outside world was gone until we returned to US soil.

  ***

  Cole, John, Mark, and Keith were dressed in racing suits littered in sponsorship logos with their numbers on their back. I had on an all-black suit that had RockStar in bright yellow letters. From a distance, we played the part of the famous drivers who dominated the Baja race, Rob MacCachern, Luke McMillin, and Ryan Arciero, to name a few, exactly what we needed to look like. The actual drivers were somewhat aware of what we were doing, and all had agreed to sign an NDA allowing us to use trucks and trailers that looked just like theirs.

  PCI race radios allowed us to slap fifteen-foot stickers on the sides of our trucks as well as the inside on the center of the steering wheels. Their swag littered the back seats. We did whatever it took to make this look authentic. We may have an in with the border, but that was assuming he’d be there when we made it through. You never assumed life would be easy. That was when mistakes happened.

  Instead of heading to the start of the track, we took a detour and slipped by the public and made our way to the finish line at La Paz. The drivers couldn’t be in two places at once. We’d meet the girls and start back to the beginning while the real racers stayed behind and partied.

  What took Justin Morgan sixteen hours and twenty-three minutes to drive during the race took us almost two days due to side streets and not drawing attention to ourselves from the local PD.

  “Maybe next time we don’t pick such flashy looking trucks,” Mark piped over the radio behind me.

  “What would you suggest?” Keith challenged. The fact he was entertaining Mark just proved how bored he must be.

  “Well,” Mark grunted as he switched the gear into second, “I’m in a lime green truck in the middle of the desert. Maybe we could pick colors that would blend in?”

  “Spoken like a true soldier,” I chimed in.

  “Oo-rah.” Mark chuckled, and the silence took back over as we made our way through the thick terrain.

  “I see the meet-up spot.” John spoke quickly, as he was the leader of the pack. “There are two more trucks than we anticipated.”

  “Roll with it for now,” Cole ordered.

  My gun sat next to me, and I flexed my fingers in different patterns going over what lineup with my tattoos meant what. I was a creature of habit and liked knowing I was completely prepared. Though I felt naked without my camo and I wished I was in a Humvee with all my gear in the right spot, this would have to do.

  Eight men stood with long rifles, three with handguns, and four more surrounded the trucks. The cartel never did anything half-assed. My guess would be there were at least seven snipers up on the mountains too. They were all dressed in jeans, plaid shirts, and boots. They sure fit the stereotype well.

  “Anyone feel that?” Keith whispered and referred to the fact something seemed off.

  “I guess I missed the memo on the longhorn belt buckles.” Mark laughed darkly.

  “Stay focused,” I muttered calmly as we came to a stop.

  Salvador hopped out of the black SUV and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. The front side of his half-buttoned shirt flipped up in the breeze and showed us his gold-plated Glock tucked in his pants. I felt like I was in a Baz Luhrmann movie with all the bling these men wore. Even the gold in their teeth caught the sun.

  “You made it.” Salvador shook my hand and then Cole’s. “Let’s get you loaded up.”

  I dropped the duffle bag with a quarter of the money at his feet and kept my h
ead down as the dust rose around it. My eyes hidden behind my shades, I scanned the windows and tried to figure out where the girls were.

  John walked the men over with the drugs to fill the trophy trucks’ fuel cells and spare tires.

  “Where are the girls?” Cole joined me.

  “They’re here. They’re each strapped with nine thousand, so running isn’t an option for them.” He grinned and nodded at Roman to open the door to another SUV.

  One by one, they stepped out of the truck, wrists bound, dressed in tight dresses and heels. Elena looked around and almost seemed relieved when she saw me. I couldn’t believe we finally found our victim after all this time.

  My stomach sank when Cat wasn’t one of them. Not that I expected her to be there, but a part of me almost hoped so in my need to know she was okay.

  Mark appeared and snapped his gum like he was totally at ease.

  “We’re expected to check in at checkpoint two by sundown.” He blew a bubble, and the scent of watermelon filled the air. “You have the money, we have the drugs, hand over the women so we can go.”

  “And you are?” Salvador hissed, annoyed that Mark tried to take lead.

  “I’m the one who will be returning your girls when we’re finished.” Mark turned to me and shook his head. “Does Denton know about this guy?”

  “All right,” Salvador called out, “one man per girl.” I whirled around, confused. He pointed to Elena. “Two for her.”

  “We never agreed to extra bodies,” I yelled.

  He jumped up on the step of the SUV. “We’re all full of surprises, aren’t we?”

  “We can’t get them across the border. We’ll stand out.”

  “Figure it out.” He ducked into the car and slammed the door.

  “Change in plans.” Cole’s smooth voice came over the radio as we headed back to our trucks. “When we get to checkpoint two, we’ll figure our new guests.”

  “Ten-four,” I responded and helped Elena into John’s truck. “Your mother is waiting for you at the border,” I whispered, and her eyes bulged. She started to speak, but I shook my head and peeled back the monster patch to show her my Army flag that represented my unit. I never did anything without proof of who I was. Even my dog tags were neatly tucked under my gear. If I needed proof of who I was at the border, that would be my ticket out. It was a risk I was willing to take.