“I’m not a dog,” I snap. Why do I have to keep telling people this shit?
“No, but you are our prisoner.”
I glance at Kane, who gives me a warning look. He isn’t going to help me either; he made it clear that I should be smart enough to listen to them. It would be a stupid choice to piss off both of them. I can take one being pissed at me, maybe. Two? Fuck, I’m not going to be able to handle that. My eyes focus back to Liam, my lips pressed together in displeasure.
“Have I made myself clear?” he roars in the quietest way. It’s deep and full of threat.
I roll my eyes at him because I can’t resist that small gesture of provocation.
“Fine.”
He closes his eyes for a second, shaking his head while Kane chuckles beside me.
I keep my face in place but exhale loudly, trying to stifle the smile that’s been triggered by his, avoiding Liam’s glare at all costs.
He releases the mute button on the phone before his eyes move back to me. I turn my chair to face them both, moving my gaze between the two of them. Liam’s stare is still intense and intimidating, but Kane looks at me with sympathy. Like he knows I’m confused about this conversation. It makes me feel like I’m not completely alone, and I feel my muscles relax a bit. Kane nods his head, giving me permission to speak while his gaze never leaves mine.
“Hi, Daddy,” I finally say, exhaling a deep breath.
I hear a sigh of relief on the other side of the line.
“Cariño, Hija. Qué tal?”
“I’m fine.” I refuse to speak to him in Spanish. I don’t feel Spanish. I’m Irish. I’m American. Anything but Spanish.
My mother was Irish, and I’ve never felt like I belonged in Spain. With my strawberry blonde hair and teal eyes, I never really fit in to any European or Mediterranean culture.
“Are they treating you right?” His voice is rugged, and he sounds old.
My eyes are still locked with Kane’s, and I feel my heart racing in my chest. He’s studying every reaction on my face, so focused. I’m sure he can see even the slightest change in me.
“Yeah, they are.”
“I will get you out of there, you know that, right?”
I can’t take Kane’s intense stare any longer when I feel the anger rising towards my father. The tension is too much for me to focus. I can’t pretend he is father of the year, yet I also can’t have a falling out with my dad while being captured by crime lords. Whatever issues I have with my dad, now is not the time to work them out. I break eye contact and look at the floor, trying to concentrate on the conversation. I know my father better than anyone. He is not going to agree with a trade without a fight. He is selfish like that. Which pisses me off even more because he will be willing to risk my life.
“Yeah, I know,” I sigh, annoyed.
“Cariño, recuerdas la historia de las abejas?”
The story about the bees? Why would he bring that up? I know what he is talking about. It’s a bedtime story he told me when I was younger. He told me how bees always return home and defend their own until death. Against any kind of threat. He called me abejita, little bee, for most of my life. Being a Reyes, I know he isn’t saying this just to make me feel more comfortable. He knows I’m not the sentimental type who gets motivated by stories. No, he is telling me something else. I take a deep breath, trying to keep my poker face in place.
“Yeah, I remember,” I answer before my eyes land back on Kane. His eyes have darkened, the smile on his face completely gone. His gaze is brooding and suspicious.
He knows.
“You will always be my abejita,” my father continues. I firmly press my lips together, shaking my head. Kane and Liam are watching me like guard dogs, trying to analyze every word that is being said. I close my eyes to concentrate on my look, trying to keep my pissed mood in check because I need to find out what my father is trying to say.
“Abejita, you will always make it home.” It’s something he would say before he kissed me goodnight. He told me that there was always someone watching out for me, making sure I would come home to those who would defend me until death. That I was never alone. I know what he is saying right now. I’m not alone.
There is a rat.
There is someone on this ship working for my father. A sense of relief washes over me.
I’m not alone.
Joy hits my core until I realize how bad things could turn out. If Liam and Kane suspect I’m involved, that I know there is a rat, it will cost me my life. These guys are not men you mess with. They are ruthless when you cross them, and I am directly in their line of fire while my father is probably somewhere safe underground. Once again, my father is risking my life, trying to outsmart his enemies.
If they find out, they will not only kill the rat, they will kill me as revenge.
Assuming that isn’t the plan, anyway.
“Never again, Pápa. Nunca mas. Nunca,” I emphasize the last word with force, full of demand. In the last ten years, I’ve barely spoken Spanish to anyone. The few times I did was when I had a disagreement with my father. Speaking Spanish to him was something I only did to show him I was serious about whatever I was saying. And I sure as hell am serious about this.
I’m never going to let him put me in this position ever again.
“I know, cariño. I know.”
I roll my eyes because I know his words are empty. His words are always empty. In the end, he only does what he wants. Power and money are more important than anything else to him. It’s the sole reason my mother moved us back to the states a long time ago.
“See, she is just fine,” Kane interrupts, ending the conversation between my father and me. He snaps his fingers, ordering the security guy to escort me out. The guy takes a few long strides until he’s next to me, then grabs my arm. I get up without arguing because I know how it goes. I’m not supposed to hear the rest of the conversation. The rest of the conversation is reserved for the men to compare their dicks. Not that I’m interested in hearing their sick power play. But I can’t resist flashing my eyes at Kane with anger, not appreciating him snapping his fingers at me before I pull out of the man’s grip and walk myself out.
14
Kane
Present Day
I snap my fingers, commanding her to leave.
"See, she is just fine".
Her glare is vicious, and I’m pretty sure she will be bad mouthing me for it later. But hell, I live for that shit. I watch her give my man a silent piece of her mind before he escorts her out, and I turn my attention back to the phone. “I have to tell you, Reyes, part of me is kinda bummed to make the trade. That daughter of yours is feisty as fuck. You sure you don’t just want to keep the stones?”
I slouch back in my chair, getting comfortable with the thought. Having that girl as my prisoner for the unforeseeable future?
Fuck yeah, sign me up.
I hear a growling huff through the phone before his rough voice creeps through the line.
“Vete a la mierde, idiota. I didn’t wait this long to let them slip away now.”
“Cállate, Papá!” The grating voice of Junior hisses at his father.
Liam and I shoot each other a confused look.
Waited this long? What the fuck is he talking about?
I widen my eyes, shrugging my shoulder before Liam takes back the lead.
“What a surprise, Junior. You’ve been lurking on the line this whole time?” Liam taunts.
Frank Junior Reyes is number one on Liam’s hit list, and not just because he was the brains behind Cristina’s little scam. Liam hates people without integrity, and Junior? He doesn’t even know what the word means. He cheats, he lies, he tricks, he has no moral code, and he’s a sadistic fuck. He is the epitome of how fucked up the Reyes family really is.
Just thinking about the little black-haired rat face makes me laugh. The guy is nothing more than a leech to his father and born heir of their so-called empire, but really he isn
’t capable of pretty much anything. In fact, if his dad’s reputation wasn’t as big, no man would be stupid enough to work with the dumb fuck. He’s nothing like the fire-spitting hellion down the hall.
His little sister. How the fuck is that even possible?
“I’ve got nothing to say to you, puta.” His accent is dreadful, and I don’t understand how he ever gets laid. I bet he’s not smart enough to find his own dick.
“That’s fine, I don’t want to have to dumb it down anyway, Junior.”
“Like Cristina did with you?” he counters. “Just give us back Callie, and shut the fuck up,” he barks. He sounds like a fucking lap dog with a Spanish accent, although I’m not really sure how those sound. Woofo woofo?
The muscles in Liam’s face are getting tense, and I know he would love to pull Junior through the phone if he had the chance. In fact, if Junior is at the trade, there is a ninety-nine percent chance Liam will shoot him as soon as we get what we want.
I chuckle, “You don’t tell us shit, Junior. Now sit down and behave like a good dog, or I will tie your sister to my bed and have my way with her until I have those stones in my hand.”
I might do it anyway, but there’s no need to share too much.
“Pff, do it. I don’t care. Just make sure to bring her back with a heartbeat.”
What in the actual fuck?
The tone in his voice tells me he is not bluffing. He really doesn’t give a shit about his little sister, and the realization that he’s basically selling her out pisses me off. I feel my jaw clenching, and my mind can’t think of anything else to say other than how much I want to kill him, feeling the same hate Liam surely does flare up in me within a heartbeat.
Liam intercepts my words and shoots the phone a glare. He silently points at the phone while looking at me before he pretends to slit his throat.
“He’s dead,” he mouths.
Liam doesn’t give a shit about Callie, but I know she has commanded at least a little of his respect. That combined with the fact that he hates Junior puts Liam in Callie’s corner for the length of this conversation.
“Now Junior,” he says in a reprimanding tone, “that’s not really nice to say about your sister, is it? I do understand, though. She showed us her skills the other day, so I understand why you would be jealous of your little sis. I bet she whooped your ass all the time growing up.”
“Whatever, bring her, and I will be whooping her—”
“Junior, silencio!” Frank yells through the phone. My blood is boiling, thinking about the possible ending of that sentence. I will shoot him through the head if he ever touches her.
“Just give her back in one piece, Carrillo. Don’t hurt her,” Frank continues. Liam stares at the phone with furrowed brows. Both Reyes men lack a certain empathy in their voices. An empathy you would expect if you’re talking about your daughter or sister. My mind wanders back to Callie, fighting her way out onto the deck.
‘I don’t give a shit about my father,’ she had said.
I’m wondering exactly how much bad blood there is between them.
Or how much blood there is in general.
“I dare you to finish that sentence, Junior,” I say while Liam and I both scowl at the phone. Our fists are both pressed against the table, like we expect them both to pop out any second now. I don’t feel the need to protect Callie, I just feel the need to slit her brother’s throat.
“The stones, all of them, in ten days. We will send you the location. Think you can play us, and your girl is either dead or my personal sex slave. No tricks, Reyes.” Before either asshole can respond to my command, I hang up, not giving them the chance to have the last word. I want Frank to be as frustrated as possible, hoping he will slip up before then.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Liam exhales loudly, some of the tension visibly releasing from his body.
He leans forward on the table, showing off the thickness of his muscles. His jaw is still clenching in concern.
“What the fuck was the old man rambling about? And what about that psychopath talking about his sister?”
His sister, for fuck’s sake.
“I don’t trust shit from those people, and I don’t trust shit about that redhead either. So you need to find out if this is real or just some fucked up way to trick you into believing there is bad blood in the Reyes family.”
I meet his eyes, thinking about the conversation. Whatever it meant, Junior knew we weren’t supposed to know it.
And nobody tells Junior shit.
The old man slipped up. His tone and words were not those of a loving father who is in agonizing pain over his missing daughter. His choice of words were nowhere close to the desperation you’d expect to hear from someone whose only daughter was taken. No, they were from the kind of man who treats women like currency.
Someone like me.
I reach for my phone before something clicks in my head.
Holy shit, that can’t be.
Or could it? It would totally make sense. In fact, it’s a fucking mystery why she didn’t figure it out herself. Her loyalty for her family clearly goes deep.
With my phone in my hand, I point a finger to Liam.
“Get every file there is on Callie.”
“We already have a file for Callie, it’s the one I gave you before we took her,” he argues, not really understanding what is going on.
“That’s the basics, where she is born, where she went to school. I want everything. Where her mother was born, who her mother dated, where she has lived. Where her mother has lived. Same for her father. I want to know what she ate for breakfast when she was five and who her friends were in high school. Even when she got her first fucking period. Every single fucking thing you can find,” I explain before getting up.
“What’s going through your head?” His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to enter my head to keep up with my thoughts.
My eyes meet his, and I shoot him a smug smile before I walk towards the door.
“Just a hunch,” I chuckle confidently.
This has to be it.
The reason things don’t add up. The reason things feel different about her. My gut tells me I’m one hundred percent right about this, I just need proof. I need proof and motive. If I find out, I know exactly how to hit Frank Reyes where it hurts the most.
“Where are you off to?” Liam calls after me.
“To check on the little spitfire of the Reyes family.”
15
Callie
Present Day
Fucking assholes. All of them.
My father, Kane, Liam. Every single one of them. Bastards driven by testosterone. They all annoy the shit out of me. If I walk out of this shitshow alive, I’m going to pack my bags and do what I should have done a long time ago.
Run.
Run the fuck away to whatever remote place no fucking crime lord will ever look. No remote place my dad or fucked up brother will ever look. I will take Imogen, and we will start over.
I’m not a coward, and I hate to have to resort to running away from this life.
From my life.
But the only way to keep myself out of these war-games is to disappear. Find a way to pay back the mob, change my name, maybe even change my hair, and just start somewhere fresh on the other side of the world. I have no reason to stay in New York. I have no reason to go back to Seville. My mother is dead, my brother is a psychopath, and my father is an egocentric criminal like the rest of the family. I’m not saying I’m any better, but I like to believe I’m good enough to never do anything that could risk the people I love.
Like Genny. Fuck, I hope she’s alright.
When I get back to my room, I walk to the window and wrap my arms around my body while looking outside. Staring at nothing but water, I think about my father’s words.
He isn’t going to give whatever Kane wants from him. I know that just by listening to his tone of voice. He is up to something, and he has someone on th
e inside. I need to find out who. I need to find out what my father is up to. I need to know my options so I can decide what my next move will be.
I’m lost in thought when I feel Kane enter the room. I don’t even have to look. I know he is there because the energy in the room changes. My body instantly breaks out in goosebumps, and the flutter in my stomach appears just by him being in my proximity. It’s like my body has a radar for him.
I want to hate him. I want to be pissed with him for using me like goddamn currency, but somehow I can’t. The angel on my shoulder tells me I should stay the hell away from him, but those devil twins tell me he isn’t that bad. He’s no worse than anyone I grew up with, but it’s the feeling in my gut that is throwing me off. There’s something inside me that wants to believe he is better than the men I grew up with.
I don’t turn around but keep staring out of the window, trying to calm my nerves. His heavy footsteps slowly approach me until he is directly behind me. I can feel his presence like a thick, living wall. A small glimmer of his reflection is visible in the window in front of me, showing me the darkness in his eyes. Like a mirror showing nothing but the truth of his soul. It’s a terrifying sight, but I’m not scared. It’s intimidating, knowing he can snap my neck the second I’ve served my purpose, but there’s also something that feels comforting. Like he can protect me from anything or anyone coming after me.
If only I was his to protect.
“Turn around,” he demands with his deep voice. It’s another command, not a question. I don’t have the energy to put up a fight, so I take a deep breath before I do what I’m told. I turn around, preparing myself for those piercing blue eyes. My gaze initially rests on his chest before they move up, and I feel completely mesmerized upon meeting his eyes. His eyes are filled with frustration, moving back and forth like he is plowing through my soul, looking for the answer to whatever question is on his mind. I break eye contact, moving my gaze to his sternum, closing my eyes for a second to calm my racing heart. This man does a lot of things to me, and I’m not sure how to feel. I should be scared and on guard, but all I want to do is rip his shirt apart to trace every line on his body.
Chasing Fire (The Fire Duet Book 1) Page 12
