Freedom (Blackstone Series Book 3)

by J. L. Drake

  “Catalina,” Elena whispered and moved her gaze over my shoulder before they came back to me.

  “What about her?” I tried not to sound too eager. “Is she okay?”

  “Here.” She handed me a folded envelope.

  I tucked it in my pocket.

  “Hey,” she grabbed my arm, “they each have two guns, hip and ankle. They were told to shoot first. We’re disposable.”

  “No,” I covered my hand over hers, “you’re not.”

  “Irons.” John nodded toward our approaching company.

  “Okay.” I hurried to strap her into the truck before the other man joined us. “Whatever you hear on this ride, you ignore it. Got it?”

  “Okay.” She started to cry with relief, but I shook my head.

  “We’re not out of the woods yet. Hold it together until after we cross the border.”

  She nodded but a few still leaked over.

  “Do whatever he says.” I pointed to John. “Thank you.” I squeezed her hand, beyond thankful for the tip. “I’ll see you at the second checkpoint.”

  She nodded when her escort jumped in the back and eyed us both suspiciously. It took all my power not to drive a bullet in his head.

  “Good to go. You have a full load.” I slapped the top of the truck’s hood and wiggled my finger to let John know they were trigger happy. His eyes shifted over to mine, and he gave a very slight nod that he’d understood.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the girl who had her arms bound by a zip tie.

  “Marianna.” She sniffed and watched as I took out my pocketknife. The shit in the back protested, but I stuck a gun in his face, beyond finished with this shit.

  “Can’t have her hands bound.”

  “The border is two days away.”

  “Yeah,” I hissed, “and the imprint will be there for two weeks if we don’t remove them now.”

  He shook his head but knew I was right. Carefully, I cut the plastic with my blade and broke her hands free.

  Her wild eyes found mine, and I tried to show her I wasn’t the enemy, but given her past treatment, when she drew herself into a ball, I wasn’t surprised. I could tell she was nervous in her dirty shirt. Why they didn’t give her something cleaner was beyond me. I reached in the back and pulled a PCI race radio shirt free from the canvas swag bag and offered it to her. With trembling fingers, she pulled it over her head and seemed to relax a little with the bulk of it.

  I tossed one at John’s window for Elena to put on too. The more we looked like we belonged in the racing world, the better.

  As I watched John help Elena, I couldn’t help but let my mind slip over to Catalina.

  Frank would have my head on a stick if he found out my girl had any part in the Esteban family. We failed to mention that part when we returned home last and debriefed. He was still a little uneasy with Cole and Savannah. Not to mention, Frank’s own daughter was married to Mark. Yes, Blackstone had created their own little family, and it webbed nicely through the Army itself.

  “Yeah, you be scared, little rabbit.” One guy started in on the girl about to get into Cole’s truck.

  Just as I went to confront him, Cole hopped out and stood in his path.

  “Look, man,” he commanded, “I don’t care what you do with the girls any other time of the year, but if they look anything but well-rested when we cross that border, I’ll personally take you out myself. We have orders from Denton, and if you want to fuck it up, that’s on you and Salvador. Until then,” he stepped closer, “keep your hands off!”

  “Sí, amigo.” The asshole smiled and chewed on the end of a toothpick. “We’ll play on the way home.”

  Cole’s jaw ticked as he swung around to look at me. I knew he was as pissed as I was. These men were savages and would more than likely rape and beat the girls if we weren’t careful. We had a job to do, though, and we couldn’t allow ourselves to show any weakness.

  “Okay, you,” Mark took his girl by the shoulder and moved her toward his truck, “are with me.” One guy looked confused but followed Mark to his truck. I was guessing he barely spoke English.

  Mark gave me a reassuring smile before he started his engine and we all fell into line.

  It wasn’t until two hours into the ride that the girl next to me shifted. She was obviously uncomfortable. I peeled my eyes off Mark’s truck to glance briefly in her direction.

  “Are you going to hurt me?” She sniffed.

  “No.”

  “They always say that.”

  “I have no interest in hurting you.”

  I glanced at the man in the back. He was passed out cold. I threw the girl an extra blanket. I remembered Savannah mentioned that when she was wrapped in the blanket in the car after being rescued, it eased her nerves and gave her something to hold herself together with. For some reason, that always stuck with me, and sure enough, after I handed it over, I noticed the girl seemed to relax a bit more.

  “Marianna, right?” I asked in a low tone, and she waited for a beat before she answered.

  “Sí.”

  “Okay, Marianna, how long have you been with Salvador?”

  “Since my sixteenth birthday,” she paused, “so, four years.”

  I looked over at her sadly. These poor girls were taken when they were babies. Their lives hadn’t even started yet, and they were forced to become slaves in their own country.

  “Where’s your family?”

  “Last I knew, Texas. We didn’t last long on the freedom soil before I was taken back.”

  “You want to go find them?”

  Her face flashed a number of emotions, but mostly it was uncertainty and distrust.

  “You don’t work for Denton, do you?” She bit her lip and waited for my answer.

  I gave her a quick glance before I went back to watching Mark’s truck.

  “Weatherman.” A gruff voice blasted over the race radio. I knew who it was based off my research. Bob Steinberger was the voice of desert racing and a hero, to say the least. I turned down the volume and glanced at the asshole in the back, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  We didn’t hit the first checkpoint for another hour. We let the girls out to use the restroom and to eat a quick bite. I knew we were all desperately trying to figure out how we were going to ditch these men before the border. Then we still had to try to cross it without catching the eye of the other cartel who watched the border for Salvador.

  I set my timer as we jumped back in the truck to continue. We all needed to be in sync at all times.

  Checkpoint two was all I could hear from my radio. Everyone called in with their status. Mark used Morse code to let us know he had a plan. Cole let us know he did too. Thankfully, a plan was forming. No thanks to me, though. I was stuck in a loop. I eyed the shit’s cell phone and forced away the idea of calling my sister to see if Catalina was home. That was a forbidden line I would never cross in my world. The fact my head even went there scared the hell out of me.

  Suddenly, we came to a setof lights, and I felt my stomach sink. The local PD would set up checkpoints, and if you weren’t ready, things could go south quickly.

  “Pretend you’re asleep,” I whispered to Marianna, who wasted no time doing what she was told.

  The cop moved to my window and shined a flashlight over our faces. He squinted at Marinna’s bulky shirt that was raised up on the side but seemed more interested in her short shorts than the fact that she was carrying a party’s worth of cocaine.

  He pointed to the PCI sticker in the center of the steering wheel.

  “Stickers?”

  I pulled out a handful and gave them to him.

  “Money?”

  “No.” I shook my head and held up a stack of magazines. “Porn?”

  The officer made a face but nodded as I handed them over a few Hustlers from a black bag.

  “You’re pretty.” He nodded at her and went back to speaking Spanish. I guessed he now assumed I didn’t speak it. “I think you
should come with me.”

  “Not a chance.” I jumped in, and the cop grinned in surprise at my perfect Spanish. “Can we go?”

  He waited for a beat and licked his lips. They loved the power they had over people, but I was not in the mood on this night.

  “You like girls, huh?” I felt my mood shift from calm to just plain pissed off, but I knew to be careful.

  “Sí.” He laughed like a seventeen-year-old boy who just got his first BJ.

  “There’s a party full of girls, in a blue minivan coming up behind us. Oh, yeah. Young too.”

  “The younger the better.”

  My hands flexed on the steering wheel. “So, can we go?”

  “Sí.” He gave me a wink and waved us on.

  “Porn and stickers,” I chirped into the radio, so the others knew what to expect, “and the girls.”

  Checkpoint two was finally reached, and we could all get some rest. I was tense from the drive and from the constant scenarios I ran through my head. The cartel with us leaned forward and zipped-tied Marianna’s wrists together then led her to a spot and pushed her to the ground. One by one, the girls were brought over, and they sat next to her, each with their hands tied. They looked like sacks of grain leaning together. We could not show any kindness to them, as we all had roles to play. Instead, I found a spot under a tree and leaned my head back.

  Shit, my head hurt.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Catalina

  My eyes begged to close, but my brain stayed alert. This was way outside of my comfort zone, and we had been driving for hours. The hum of the motorbikes in front of us didn’t help my exhaustion. Morgan, my driver, was a really interesting man, with a long beard and a shaved head. Rings were tattooed around his head, looking like the rings around Saturn.

  He smiled, and with his knee against the steering wheel, he twisted the cap off a beer and handed it to me.

  “Thanks.” I sipped the cold brew, happy to have something to moisten my dry mouth.

  “Not gonna lie, I didn’t picture myself sitting in a van with Salvador’s daughter.”

  “I didn’t think I’d be in a van with a motorcycle gang, so…” I held my beer high in lieu of a ‘cheers’ and smiled at him.

  He laughed and turned the radio on to a dull volume. “I’m just glad we made it over the border without any trouble.”

  I turned my attention to the world slipping by us. “They’re not going to go after me yet,” I sighed, “but when they do, I’ll be one step ahead of them.”

  “I like the way you think, Catalina.”

  Good.

  We listened to five songs before I finished my beer and was handed another.

  Sure, why not.

  “So, tell me about your club.”

  “Like?”

  “I don’t know, just tell me something about it.” When he didn’t respond, I glanced over and found him watching me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Look, I get it, I’m connected to the cartel,” I hated this topic, “but do you think they give two shits if I know something about an MC crew in California?”

  “You really know nothing about Trigger, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. He’s scary as shit, and I kind of wanted to shed a layer of skin when I met him, but…” I shrugged.

  He rubbed his long beard and fiddled with the end of it while he thought.

  “We had a problem a while ago, and we’re all fuckin’ edgy right now. Okay?” He reached for another beer. “When we get there, listen to Trigger. If anyone says different, listen to Trigger.”

  “All right, I get it.”

  “Also, do not let a guy named Mud talk you into getting a tattoo. Mike would have our heads.”

  I laughed again, and it felt good. “I highly doubt Mike will care what happens.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Why do you think Trigger was there at the house? You think he was looking to make a deal with Sal?”

  “Yeah, of course. Isn’t that what he does?”

  He turned to look at me again. “Fuck, no. He went because Mike asked him to.”

  “What? Huh…I thought…” I leaned forward in my seat to study his face.

  “Trigger just got us free of a drug deal with the cartels. The last thing I thought he’d be doing the day before yesterday was telling us to suit up for a trip down south.”

  “Why?” I sounded like an ass, but I needed to know.

  Morgan glanced over at me. “Because Trig and Mike are tight. Mike was all messed up about you, and he was headin’ into one shit-ass situation with his head screwed up. He needed to know you were okay. He needed someone he trusted to put eyes on you.”

  “I need to call him.”

  “No can do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s heading toward the border now with five trucks packed full of cocaine and girls.”

  “There’s no way to reach him?”

  “Nope.” He tossed the beer bottle on the floor.

  “So, what I am supposed to do now?”

  “Now,” he flipped on his blinker and headed down a dusty road, “you stay with us until your boy arrives.”

  Holy shit. I eased back into my seat and let that sink in. I guessed Mike was full of surprises too.

  The words ‘Dirty Demons’ blinked in my face when my eyes fluttered open hours later, and my stomach rolled from all the beer that tried to filter through my kidneys. Morgan opened my door and helped me unfold from the seat.

  “Where are we?”

  “Cali,” was all he offered.

  Okay.

  Once inside, a beat found my ears and neon purple tubing led the way into a strip joint. Seriously? Were we really sticking with the stereotype, here, people? Or maybe they wanted a place to take me that stayed under the radar?

  I slipped into a booth, and Morgan plopped in beside me while Trigger and some guy named Rail sat across from me.

  Three cages had women dancing in them, and one huge stage had four girls doing a terrible dance to Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy by Big & Rich.

  To say I was nervous was an understatement. At the same time, I felt they must be testing me, so I tried to muster up my strength to go along with whatever happened.

  These guys were intense. They barely spoke, and I couldn’t help noticing that people in the strip club shot them glances now and then.

  Again, I moved my hands under the table to hide the shakes, and my knee took over and thumped my heel into the floor. I was happy the music was loud.

  Morgan was the first to break the intensity when he dropped his head and tried to cover his laughter. Even Trigger, who I guessed rarely broke into a smile, used his whiskey to conceal his smirk.

  “Fuck the hell right off,” Rail suddenly snapped. “What are the odds you’d marry the chick?”

  “He never had a chance. Tess marked Trigger before he even realized it.” Morgan let his laughter out now. He was in a full-out belly laugh. “But, really, the video is gold.”

  What? I looked at all of them in amazement, not sure what to think.

  “No one marked me.” Trigger pointed.

  “Right.” Rail rolled his eyes then looked at me. “What these guys tell you about me, it’s all a lie.”

  “Oh, so you’re not good in bed?” I asked, deadpan. “Good to know.”

  Morgan laughed harder, and Trigger let out a little grunt of amusement.

  “Baby girl, I’m a legend around here.”

  “Anyone who’s connected to that song must be a legend.” I snickered. The tension was quickly draining from my body as I downed the water Morgan had gotten me. “White country music at its finest.” I gave a lame thumbs up.

  “A trip in a van with Morgan, and we have another feisty chick on our hands.” Rail tossed his hands up. “Super.”

  Trigger picked up his phone and made a call, but I could tell it went straight to a voicemail. I hoped it was to Mike. I felt torn now that I knew he was behind all this. I could still
see the look of disappointment and shock on his face when he first found me at the house.

  “You better be able to back up that tongue of yours, sweetheart.” Rail grinned playfully, and his words struck a chord.

  “You forget,” I leaned over the table, “where I was brought up.”

  There, the elephant in the room had been brought to light.

  You’re welcome.

  “Oh, please.” He waved a hand. “You ever kill a man?”

  “Not yet.”

  Trigger looked up from his phone, and my gaze held his. “If you’re planning on killing someone, you better understand the toll it takes on your soul,” he grunted.

  “Oh, it’ll do wonders.” The way I said it caused a few eyebrows to lift, and Morgan glanced a question at me but went back to his drink. We all settled and just listened to the music. My mind drifted, and I thought about the suitcase my mother had packed for me. I had opened it in the van and found she had stuffed a few thousand in there for me, and for the first time in my life, I was willing to use it. “Do you mind if I step outside for a moment?”

  Tigger flicked his head at Morgan, and he quickly moved so I could leave. I had been in a private battle since I arrived. I needed to relieve myself from all the beer and water I had. As I made my way around the tables, one girl snickered, and a couple of cage dancers shot me dirty looks. I had a pretty thick skin and didn’t care what people thought of me, but there was still a part of me that was raw and exposed when it came to who I was.

  My secret was out, and it hurt. People judged me and made assumptions when they knew. All I’d done for the past seven years was try to rebuild myself into the woman I wanted to be, without the stigma of my family name. I was strong, loving, and loyal. I was a good person.

  And now…

  After I left the restroom, I went outside. The van window was open just enough for me to get my arm inside and unlock the door, but as I went for my suitcase, a huge arm pushed it back down.

  “Going somewhere?”

  I closed my eyes and internally cursed. “I just need to get out of here. I appreciate what you have done, but you don’t need to babysit me.”