My revenge had become a suicide mission. I’d avenge Nash’s death, but I wouldn’t make it out of this alive as the captive of a drug cartel. I’d keep my promise to avenge my brother’s death with my own.
Even if I was attracted to the one man I should hate more than anyone.
Chapter Thirteen
EDEN
I woke up shivering, but it wasn’t from the damp air. I’d fallen asleep on the floor, leaned against the bed with my cuffed wrist behind my head. How much time had passed since Val left? I had no idea, but my fingers were numb from the unnatural angle of my hand, and my lips cracked with dehydration.
I didn’t expect him to walk out on me, although I kept myself under no illusion that he’d let me go. I wasn’t stupid. The man I thought could be my savior was one of my captors. I just didn’t know how he ranked in the hierarchy.
Still, I thought maybe he’d turn around when I threw his shirt and at least give me some form of common comfort.
A real room. Fresh clothes. Another caress of his hand.
His touch had been the only thing in the past twenty-four hours that remotely came close to easing the ache where my heart used to be. The thought totally mind fucked me, because his hand had a part in its removal in the first place.
Every time I thought of being in the cantina, I felt sick, so I forced myself to concentrate on pumping life back into my cold and pale skin. Wiggling my fingers, pins and needles shot through my arm, and I winced at the sensation. I’d never been so uncomfortable in my life as I sat upright, my stiff body screaming in protest. A quick glance at my wrist confirmed that the bleeding had stopped, so at least I knew I wouldn’t die of blood loss.
Small favors.
The sound of keys rattling in the door pulled my attention away, and I balled myself up, not sure who’d be walking into the room. Out of the two, I’d prefer Val over Emilio. The dynamics of my relationship with my boss had been forever altered. Besides that, he seemed more of a loose cannon.
I held my breath until the door creaked open, and a young man about my age with a strong muscular build and shoulder-length, dark hair slipped through carrying a plastic tray. He eyed me curiously but glanced away once our eyes met.
“Boss says you need to eat,” he said, placing the tray in front of me.
I ground my teeth and turned away from him. “I’m not hungry.”
That was a lie. I was starving. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.
He ignored me and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’d eat, if I were you. You don’t want to piss him off.”
I shifted a glare toward him. “Who is ‘him’? Emilio? Val? Some other Carrera man hiding in this house who’s yet to make sure I’m being a good prisoner? Tell me.”
His fingers tightened in his pockets, and he paused a moment before answering. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“There’s not much to get. Chains. Blood. Inhumanity. It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“What?” His handsome face contorted in disgust. “No. You should be thankful he didn’t leave you to those assholes. You’d definitely get a taste of inhumanity then.”
I pulled on my cuffed wrist for emphasis. “Gee, thanks.”
Shaking his head, he walked the few steps remaining from the door to the bed and arranged the plastic cup of water next to the tray.
No glass.
Smart.
I watched carefully as his gaze shifted to my wrist, the lines in his forehead deepening. Something in this man struck me as more rational than the other two. He seemed more human and more easily manipulated.
“Do you have a name, or do I just call you my personal chef?”
He chuckled and scratched his temple with his index finger. “Boss said you were a handful. Nice try, but your trick isn’t going to work, lady.”
“No tricks. And my name is Eden. Do you have one?”
“I don’t need to throw tricks. I’m not the one cuffed to a bed.” He grinned, his smile fully amused at my expense.
“Nice.” Turning inward, I closed my eyes and waited for him to leave. Moments passed with only silence in the room.
“Mateo.”
Popping an eye back open, I stared at him. He still stood in the same spot regarding me curiously, with a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. I had no idea why he hadn’t walked out, but I wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.
“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mateo,” he repeated. “My name? You asked my name.”
“I didn’t think you’d answer.”
“I didn’t either.”
I waited for him to say more, but his lips pressed in a tight line. Obviously, Mateo had no intention of extending our conversation or providing me with any more answers. However, sitting in one place for so long had restricted blood flow, and my legs were killing me. Beyond that, basic human function had taken over, and a full bladder took precedence over stubbornness. I’d be damned if I’d beg Emilio or Val for anything, but for some reason, it didn’t wound my pride so much to ask Mateo.
“I don’t suppose you have a key on you anywhere?” I asked, tugging on my wrist restraint.
He narrowed a hard stare in suspicion. “Why?”
“Nature, Mateo. I need to go to the little prisoner’s room.”
Totally petty, but warranted.
“I don’t know…” His gaze bounced back and forth between sympathy and distrust.
Wise man.
“C’mon, dude,” I whined. “Unless you want to mop up piss, I suggest you let me go. I know there’s one in that room.” I motioned toward a closed door adjoining the room.
Mateo twisted his face in horror. “Fine. Just don’t piss on the floor, for Christ’s sake.”
Hurriedly, he fished in his pocket and produced a silver key that hung around a black key ring. I held my breath as he took hold of my wrist in one hand and unlocked the cuff with the other. The moment my arm was freed, I jerked it to my chest, rubbing it to force circulation back into my fingers. We stared at each other like squirrels crossing a highway, both of us unsure of which direction to turn or what move to make.
Finally, I cleared my throat and pushed myself up on my knees, nodding toward the closed door. “Is that it?”
He followed my gaze and pursed his lips. Taking the opportunity, I pushed off my knees and sat on the bed, stretching my legs. Pain from sitting in the cramped position radiated down my back, and I winced. I must’ve whimpered, because his eyes shot back to me as I leaned backward and fully extended with my arms behind me.
“What’re you doing?”
I lifted a brow. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m stretching like a normal human being instead of a caged animal.” I nodded toward the bathroom again and repeated. “Is that it?”
My sarcasm seemed to throw him. “What? Oh, yeah…yeah. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”
“Super…a chaperone.” Rolling my eyes again, I stood and walked toward the door.
“Eden?”
I glanced over my shoulder with a bored look, determined not to lose the ground I’d gained. “What?”
“Not too long or we’ll take the door down.”
Pausing at the bathroom door, I glared before slamming it shut. Once inside, I blew out a long breath and walked to the sink. Holding on to the edges with both hands, I lowered my head. Lack of sleep, an empty stomach, and the lingering effects of drugs in my system left me weak, but I couldn’t let it show. Licking my lips, I drew air in until my lungs filled and raised my head until my reflection stared back at me in the mirror. Familiar blue eyes were hollow and no longer held emotion that wasn’t found in a lower circle of hell.
A slow, purposeful smile made its way across my lips as I reached behind my back, and underneath my tank top. Pulling out a long silver fork from the inside my shorts, I held it out in front of me and watched the fluorescent light flicker off the prongs.
I wondered how they’d feel
piercing flesh.
After using the bathroom, I shoved it back into my pants, covered it with the hem of my tank top and flushed the toilet for emphasis. Washing my hands, and running them through my matted hair, I turned toward the door.
Show time.
Chapter Fourteen
VAL
“Goddamn it!” My fist pounded into the cheap door as my foot kicked it from the bottom. She infuriated the hell out of me. I didn’t have to coddle her. I could leave her in there to rot or shove warm, day-old water and crusty bread at her until she choked.
Leaving her for the crew would’ve been easier. It’d been risky to show my face to her. I should’ve just left the logistics to Emilio like he wanted, but for some reason, I wanted to see for myself that she was all right.
How in the hell did Cereza turn out to be Lachey’s sister? How’d I manage to bring the one woman who caught my eye into the middle of a cartel war?
My arrogance would get me killed one day.
I closed my eyes and paced the stark white bedroom. Blindly bumping into things posed no danger. Safe houses were anything but homey. A metal bed with sheets as soft as the needles on a porcupine was all that stood between my fist and the wall.
And God, she made me want to plow through plaster.
Pacing the room, I stopped occasionally to shove my hands through my hair, tearing at the strands until they fell around my temples. I ripped at the collar of my new shirt, buttons flying, and not giving a shit.
She made me crazy. No, she made me more than crazy. I wanted to grab that smart fucking mouth and squeeze until she shut it, and no words came out. I craved to have those pouty lips under my command, kneeling before me with her hands bound until she stopped her incessant talking.
I needed to see a moment of fear in her eyes…just a passing of uncertainty glaze her pale blue eyes, fearing my power over her. Then the fire would return. The cold power that lined her veins and steeled her jaw would demand her retaliation. She’d pull away, glaring at me with a mix of hatred and unwanted desire.
All that raw hate and vengeance inside one woman set something alive inside me that lay dormant for years. I could satiate carnal desires with any woman, but Eden Lachey was a sparked live wire for the taking. The choice was mine to touch her and burn from the inside out or step away and die from nothingness.
Opening my eyes, I found myself at a dead-stop, leaned against the plain metal dresser. Hard as a rock, my slacks barely contained my erection.
Damn this woman.
Cursing, I pushed my palms away and stalked to the attached bathroom, stripping what was left of my suit off as I went. A trail of clothing followed my path until the tiny, stark white bathroom met my scowl. A single basin sink with cheap chrome faucets lined a dirty countertop, and I took care not to touch anything as I turned the shower on.
I’d kill Mateo for choosing this place.
Stepping into the stream of hot water, I let the abusing pelts bruise my skin. I wanted the pain. I deserved it. Placing both palms against the tile, I leaned into the force of the stream and closed my eyes.
I’d indirectly gotten the girl’s brother murdered. I’d ordered the beating on her father, and the fucking Muñoz cartel killed Emilio’s crew, delivering the wrong Lachey. Even if my men didn’t pull the trigger, her brother had shed blood because of my orders. I was also responsible for every Muñoz dick that wanted to violate her. I couldn’t think of what would’ve happened if we hadn’t gotten to her first.
She called me one of them. She called me a murderer. She was right. I was all those things. Yet, I’d never force myself on her. Unless she wanted me to. And God, did I want her to.
A soapy hand slid from the tile as I imagined her crawling on her knees to me, hands bound behind her. I’d make her wait. I’d make her ask for it…cry for it, even. When we both couldn’t stand anymore, I’d grab a fistful of that bright red hair, jerk it back, and shove my cock down her throat. She’d take it all, because of her insatiable need for me. More than anything, I craved to see my dick disappear past that smartass mouth. Then, I could remind her every time she told me to ‘go fuck myself,’ exactly how easily she swallowed it with a smile.
As the fantasy played out in my head, I worked myself into a frenzy. Images of her face flashed through my head as my breathing escalated. My eyes squeezed shut, and my grip tightened while thoughts of her tongue had me pumping at a furious pace.
I braced one hand against the shower wall as a groan tore from deep within my chest. “Cereza, fuck!”
Coming back down to earth, the visions in my mind cleared, and all that remained were stained walls and an unsatisfied cock. Sighing, I washed off and wrapped a towel around my waist.
I couldn’t allow thoughts of her to consume me. I may be a murderer, but I wasn’t a fucking rapist. Something had to give, or I’d spend the entire time in the safe house, jerking off to images of Eden Lachey’s acid tongue.
* * *
By the time I got out of bed the next morning, I was ready to crawl back in. Sleep never came when my mind replayed the sight of Eden alone and bleeding in a concrete room. I’d tossed and turned, until I finally gave up and went in search of anything resembling a coffee pot. What I found looked like it’d time traveled from 1983. The pot was stained, the filters were fuzzy, and I didn’t even want to know what the hell still clung to the sides of the grounds bucket.
But caffeine was caffeine, and I needed a boost. Something told me our prisoner wouldn’t be as pleasant as yesterday and may need some liquid energy of her own. Taking a sip, I grimaced and hoped she took her coffee with no frills. She was getting it tar black, just like my mood.
On the way to take it to the basement, I paused, hearing Mateo unlock the front door. It had to be him. Anyone else would’ve broken the windows or shot their way in. Still, I dropped the second coffee mug and molded my hand around the gun wedged in the waistband of my sweatpants.
I was sure, but I wasn’t stupid.
My tensed muscles relaxed as Mateo’s long hair popped in the kitchen door attached to a shit-eating grin. “Hola, boss. You’re up early.” He raised a tray and the smell of brewed Columbian coffee filled the room. “I brought brain food.”
“Thank God,” I exhaled, grabbing one out of the carrier. Taking a sip, I held in a groan of satisfaction and threw the remaining mug in the sink. I caught Mateo’s eye as he watched the move, counting the cups before they shattered against each other.
“Dos?” He held two fingers up and shook his head with a smirk. “Taking the prisoner coffee doesn’t exactly play up the fear factor, does it?”
I didn’t appreciate what he insinuated, but I couldn’t deny it either. “She has to drink, Mateo. We’re not savages.”
Mateo took a slow drink from his cup before answering. “She’s hostile, boss. I tried to give her food last night, and she walked away from it. The less you interact with her the better. She’s throwing around accusations about the cartel and using our names.” He glanced toward the closed door where she lay cuffed. “You’ve shown yourself once. Don’t give her more ammunition.”
“Too late for that.” The memory of her skin against my lips caused a crack in my hardened armor that I covered with a scowl. I couldn’t let my men know Eden and I already had somewhat of a bizarre history. The insignificant conversations for months leading to my ill-timed decision to visit the cantina two nights ago were private. From the look in her eyes, we’d both envisioned the ending to that night with me buried deep between her legs.
Jesus. I couldn’t think like that or I’d have to shower again.
Mateo paced. “The police raided Caliente early this morning.”
His words knocked me out of my stupor and pulled me into full boss mode. “What reason would the police have to go to Caliente?” My eyebrow arched, and my hand stopped him mid-pace. “The cleaners already came through, right?”
If our men hadn’t gotten rid of Lachey and cleaned up the mess before the
badges got there, we were fucked.
“Si.” Mateo nodded his head. “They found nothing. The alarms tripped, and Emilio had to go back not long after he left here.” He glanced out of the small reinforced glass window toward the isolated street. “They tried to rattle him, but he knows the rules.”
I didn’t like the way this was playing out. “There’s only one way the police could’ve known Lachey was there, but it goes against everything cartels believe as a whole…despite our rivalry.”
“You think the Muñoz Cartel called the cops and pointed them to Caliente?”
“Either they did, or they had someone do it for them.”
Mateo’s eyes widened. “Why? The cops could bust them just as much as us.”
“Agreed.” I ran my finger along my bottom lip, tapping it at the corner of my mouth. “Something doesn’t add up. It was a ballsy move and not one I would’ve made without knowing it wouldn’t backfire. Whoever made that call wasn’t worried. The question is, what insurance policy do they have?”
“Boss, if you want, I can stay here while you—”
I nodded toward the door. “Thanks for the coffee, but you need to get back and check on the shipment coming in from the port.” I clapped him on the shoulder and looked him in the eye to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’m counting on you, Mateo. Without Nando, we’re a man down. I need you to be my eyes and ears in Corpus Christi. Make sure that truck gets here.”
“Of course, boss.”
“I also need you to fill Nando’s position. Look toward the higher soldiers. Someone’s got to stand out as worthy.”
He dipped his chin. “I’m on it.”
The door closed quietly, the lock engaging along with the coded alarm. I stared at the cool coffee containers and cursed under my breath. Business came first and one unpleasant phone call needed to be made. Sighing, I pulled my phone from my pocket and addressed my current problem before I opened the door to my other.
Blurred Red Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel Page 10
