Blurred Red Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel

by Kenborn, Cora

  “Valentin! Go!”

  I didn’t like disobeying Mamá’s orders. Nodding, I turned when I saw one of the other men in black pick up one of the guns and start to chase me. A funny feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Something didn’t feel right.

  “Valentin! Please! Be a fireman, now!” Mamá screamed again, and something in her voice made me run. I ran fast as the man chased me.

  My house was big. There were twists and turns and awesome places to hide. There was also a pipe that ran down the side of it. I’d gotten in trouble many times for climbing down it like a fireman. I liked to pretend I got called in the middle of the night to a huge blaze and was the only hero who could put it out. I’d open the window, wrap my legs around it and slide down, then hide out in the cellar until the ‘fire’ was over.

  Or until Papá stopped being angry.

  Tonight, the fire was real.

  Somewhere along the way, I’d lost the man in black. Opening the window, I heard Mamá scream again then a loud blast. I wanted to cover my ears, but I couldn’t and hold the window too. So, I focused on jumping to the pipe and closing it behind me.

  Once inside the cellar, I pulled my knees against my chest and covered my ears, drowning out the last of the screams until I fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  PRESENT DAY

  EDEN

  HOUSTON, TEXAS

  Tears rolled down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them. He’d painted a picture I’d never be able to erase from memory. My heart bled for the little boy, waiting in a dirty cellar for a mother who’d never come for him.

  I fought to find my voice. “You mentioned a baby…Ana. What happened to her?”

  “No one ever found my sister’s body. I can’t think about that, Eden. I never have.”

  Releasing the tear-stained pillow, I rolled over to face him, taking his hand in mine. “Why did you turn to cartel life after knowing what happened to your family, Val?”

  Dropping his chin, the skin around his eyes bunched in a pained stare. “Why’d you not leave with your father after known criminals killed your brother in front of you?”

  The question took me by surprise, as did the intensity of his gaze. In that instant, I understood him more than probably anyone ever had. The wall I’d built between us crumbled as the abomination I’d created in my mind of Valentin Carrera—La Muerte—fell away, revealing only a man who’d loved and lost.

  A man who’d sought revenge for a family member brutally taken from him.

  Just. Like. Me.

  Before I could stop to think about it, I pushed off the mattress and straddled his lap, the t-shirt riding the tops of my thighs. As if magnetic, his hands automatically pulled to my waist, resting low against my hips.

  Hooking a finger under his chin, I lifted his darkened eyes to meet mine. “Take me to Mexico.”

  “Eden, I can’t. Weren’t you listening? I won’t take the risk.”

  “Val, I’m not your mother, and you’re not six years old.” Forcing power into my voice, I took his face in between my palms. “Do you think I’m weak?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you believe whatever this is between us is worth fighting for?”

  Pulling away, he closed his eyes and drew a tired breath. “Eden, come on—”

  “Do you believe we have something worth fighting for?” I repeated, enunciating each word.

  Opening his eyes, raw pain shot through them as he held my face in a mimicking grip. “I can’t go through the same thing again. It’ll kill me.”

  “Me too,” I agreed, my voice shattering. “That’s why you can’t leave me behind. If we go, we go together. I have nothing left here, Val. The only two things I have to live for are revenge and you. If you leave, you take them both.”

  His breath came rough and heavy, and he closed his eyes again, tightening his hold on my cheeks as he pressed our foreheads together. “You’re so stubborn, Eden.” Pulling me closer, he tilted my chin, opening his mouth and brushing it repeatedly over the outside of my mine. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

  Fire raced through me as he traced my jawline with barely-there kisses, trailing them down my throat and back up again. Groaning, I threw my head back, reveling in the touch of his lips on my heated skin. As his tongue grazed the underside of my chin and raked across my bottom lip, need exploded within me, drawing from the powerful connection we’d forged with one conversation.

  Trailing my hands down his chest, he swallowed my low moan as he captured my lips in a hungry kiss that I had every intention of drowning in. I welcomed it, pouring every ounce of fear for our combined safety into it—our tongues tangling in a battle of dominance neither of us cared to win.

  “I need you, Cereza. But this time, this is on your terms—all or nothing.”

  The honesty in his voice, and uncharacteristic willingness to hand over power finally crumbled the last of my remaining walls. Breaking the kiss, a small smile curled one corner of my mouth before it claimed his again. “I’m all yours.”

  With a low growl of my name, his hands bunched the bottom of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the floor. Holding me protectively in his arms, he lowered me onto the mattress. His weight stole my breath, but I welcomed every theft.

  As he made love to me, he groaned broken Spanish in my ear. I had no idea if the words were dirty or endearing, and honestly, I didn’t care. All I knew was that Val and I had passed an invisible milestone in whatever was happening between us.

  And tomorrow, we’d pass a real one into the border of Mexico.

  * * *

  “Eden, wait.”

  With a backpack full of clothes and supplies and one full of artillery slung over my shoulders, I paused in the kitchen on the way out to the SUV the next morning. Val instructed me to pack light. That hadn’t been a problem since he’d borrowed all of three outfits from his soldier’s wife. Hopefully I’d have a moment in Mexico to at least buy something else to wear that halfway covered my ass.

  “Did we forget something?”

  Wincing as he set his own bags down on the barstools, Val shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “No, I just…”

  The vet made Val’s much bitched about visit earlier in the morning, and other than a few stitches, antibiotics, tetanus shot, and temporary hearing loss, he’d miraculously escaped major injury.

  Intrigued by his uncomfortable stance, I dropped my own bags and met him at the kitchen island with my hands on my hips. “You’re not changing your mind. I’m coming with you.”

  “No, nothing like that. I don’t go back on my word, Eden. Know that about me, if you know nothing else.”

  The veins in his arm bulged as his hand tightened around something in his pocket. Narrowing my eyes, I leaned my elbows onto the bar and twirled the end of my ponytail around my finger playfully. “What’s in the pocket, Carrera?”

  The lines around his mouth deepened. “Look, I know all that stuff with your dad and the medallion had to have been rough to hear. You thought it was a genuine gesture. How were you to know you’d been used, right?”

  “We don’t know that for a fact, Val,” I corrected, straightening as tension ran through me. “There’s no proof he knew either.”

  “Right.” He nodded, pity in his eyes. “Anyway, I know how much that thing meant to you.”

  “Okay.” I eyed him cautiously.

  “What I’m trying to say is…well, I don’t want you to feel like…shit, here.” Jerking his hand out of his pocket, he pushed his fist toward me and held it until I extended my palm. Immediately, his fist opened and a flat, gold link chain fell into my hand.

  Curious, I held the pendant up for closer inspection. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen in my life. The top third looked to be gold, the sun dial looking top fanned above a woman’s skeletal face crowned with flowing long straight hair. Her open-boned rib cage stood pronounced and melted into a rose gold cloak. In her hand, she hel
d a silver scythe similar to the Grim Reaper. It was both terrifying and beautiful.

  “What is this?” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes from it.

  “Santa Muerte rosary,” he explained, unclasping the hook and twirling his finger in a circle, indicating for me to turn around. “In my culture, Santa Muerte is very sacred, Cereza. In ancient times, sacrifices were made to the Lady of the Dead in order to receive a peaceful death. The tradition passed from generations and has changed into many different meanings. The basic request always remained the same; however, Santa Muerte can be asked for nearly every need, mainly protection from one’s enemies.”

  Glancing down at the pendent resting against my chest, I ran my fingers across the cool metal. “But…death? Isn’t that a little morbid? Especially since what we’re walking into isn’t exactly safe.”

  “The powers associated with Santa Muerte aren’t all negative, Eden. All men must answer to death. The greatest power in life is death. If we believe in that philosophy, then Santa Muerte has the power to turn the will of man in favor of one or the other.”

  Tracing the scythe, I tasted the name on a whisper. “Santa Muerte.”

  “Protection,” he reiterated, kissing my temple. When I glanced up to thank him, he’d already reassembled his bags on his shoulder and walked out the front door toward the waiting SUV.

  Closing my fist around the symbol, I stared after him, a feeling of inherent dread washing over me. “Protection,” I repeated.

  * * *

  Living in Houston my entire life, I’d never legally crossed the border into Mexico.

  I sure as hell hadn’t done it at one-hundred-fifty miles per hour in rough gulf waters.

  After almost losing my breakfast in a speed boat, hitting wave after wave with a choppy resistance that had me dry heaving in Val’s lap, we docked off South Padre Island and took a waiting car down to Brownsville. I had no idea how Mateo and Emilio had arranged all the intricacies of the trip so quickly, but I knew not to question it.

  In this instance, the less I knew the better.

  Once in Brownsville, we easily walked across the border to another waiting car on the Mexico side in Matamoros. The entire trip took a little less than six hours, all said and done, but it felt like twelve. By the time the car pulled into a circular driveway, I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “What time is it?” I whispered, dragging my head off Val’s shoulder.

  Turning his wrist, he squinted at his watch. “Six o’clock.”

  “Feels later.” I yawned, stretching as I studied the modest house in front of us. “Where are we? This doesn’t look like a drug lord’s mansion.”

  Val chuckled and opened the door to the back of the SUV. “It’s not, Cereza. Do you actually think I’d bring you to the middle of a battlefield?”

  “What? You promised!”

  Leaning in, he hooked his fingers under my chin and pressed his thumb against my lips. “I promised I’d take you to Mexico. I never said anything about throwing you to the wolves. Did I?” Pouting, I shook my head. “This is my house in Monterrey. We’ll stay here tonight. Tomorrow morning, I have to claim my father’s body, and tomorrow afternoon, I’ll fly to Mexico City to his estate to handle business…alone.”

  “But, Val…” I dove for the door handle, sprawled across his lap, effectively stopping his exit.

  “But, nothing, Eden. These are my terms. Accept them, or I’ll put your ass on a plane back to Houston faster than you can shove it in my face again.”

  Deciding not to push the issue, I shot him a look and crawled back to my side of the car. Throwing the door open, I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder and stomped to the front door, Mateo hot on my heels. “Well? Are you going to open it, or do I kick it in?”

  Mateo’s eyes rounded as he bounced a look back to Val.

  Hiding a smirk, Val tucked a semi-automatic in the waistband of his pants and twirled a set of keys on his finger. “That mouth of yours, Cereza…I’m telling you…one of these days.”

  * * *

  “Rise and shine, Danger.”

  Val twitched once then fell back asleep, his bare ass uncovered by the blanket I’d just ripped off. Irritated at his lack of response, I climbed onto the bed and straddled his back. Extending my arms, I curled my finger around the trigger and repeated myself.

  “Val, wake up before I pop a cap in your ass.”

  Like a lightning bolt shot down from the ceiling, his eyes flew open and he twisted his body until he lay on his back, facing the barrel end of his own gun. Slowly raising his palms, his throat bobbed with a heavy swallow.

  “Eden,” he said, drawing out my name slowly. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “It looks like you’re aiming a gun in my face. Why don’t you put it down, and we can talk about whatever’s wrong?”

  Pretending to think for a moment, I quickly shrugged. “Nah. I like this more.”

  His fingers wiggled, itching to grab the gun out of my hands. “I’m not fucking around, Eden. Give me the gun.”

  “I’m not either, and no.”

  “What is it that you want?” His eyes hammered into me as his nostrils flared.

  Good. I’d been waiting for those words.

  Slackening my elbows, I leaned into his chest, enunciating every word. “I want you to take me to Mexico City.”

  Taking advantage of my position, Val grabbed my elbows, flipping me onto my back and somehow wrangling the gun out of my hands at the same time. Unloading the ammo, he tossed the gun to the side of the bed and held my hands above my head.

  Well, that ended up the exact opposite as I intended.

  “What the fuck was that about?” he roared. “You think that shit’s funny?”

  No. I didn’t think it was funny, but for some reason a chorus of laughter fell from my chest. As I fought for air, I shook my head in protest. “No, I don’t. But how else was I supposed to get your attention?”

  “Well you’ve got it now, speak.”

  “Teach me to shoot.”

  “What?” He pulled back, his eyebrows raising to his hairline.

  “You heard me. Teach me to shoot. I know a little, but not enough to protect either of us if things get crazy in Mexico City.”

  Releasing me, Val sat up, collecting the discarded pieces of his gun. “You didn’t seem to have an issue when you almost blew Emilio’s dick off.” Cursing, he rubbed his thickening beard. “Stop it with this shit. You’re not going. Besides, waking me up with a gun in my face doesn’t exactly make me want to do anything for you, Eden.”

  Changing tactics, I moved behind him, sliding my palms up his back and down the front of his chest. “Emilio brings out the violent side in me.” A deep throated rumble let me know I was on the right track to getting what I wanted. “Oh, come on, Val, admit it. You got turned on seeing me hold it, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  Pressing my lips against his neck, I drew circles against his skin with the tip of my tongue. “No? Not even a little?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Just think what it’d feel like to see me shoot one, to stand behind me and feel me pull the trigger, Val. All that power. All that force squeezed in the palm of my hand.”

  Another groan and a shudder, and I knew I had him.

  Grabbing his pants at the foot of the bed, he shoved one leg in before moving out of my hold. “Get dressed.”

  * * *

  “Take a strong stance and a firm grasp.” Val stood behind me, and kicked my feet apart wedging his knee between my legs. “Hold the gun on your target. You want to let your finger barely touch the trigger and let it go limp.”

  Snickering, I rolled my chin over my shoulder. “You, um, want it to go limp?”

  “Very funny.” Smirking, he pointed to the cans he’d set up on wooden posts in a field outside his house. “Now, turn back around and focus.” Obeying, I extended my arms again like he’d shown me. “Now, I�
��m going to cover your hold and pull the trigger with you.”

  With experienced precision, he held us both steady and shot accurately, blowing the can off the post in one shot.

  “Wow,” I breathed, genuinely impressed. “You’re good.”

  “You have no idea.” He grinned.

  Through two more rounds, he shadowed me, instructing me on stance and follow-through. Finally, through enough whining on my part, he stood back and let me try it on my own. The first time, I was crushed to realize I’d shot a migrating bird. Val laughed at my devastation, asking how I planned to shoot a man if I broke down over random fowl. Pissed off, I shot again, effectively deflating his tire.

  “Eden, let’s just call it a day. I’d like to keep my windows while I still have them.”

  I’d failed at most everything I’d ever tried. I’d be damned if I was going to fail at this. That can was a dead man.

  “Don’t be a smartass, Val. Smartasses sleep alone.”

  “Always with the dick threats.”

  “Use what you know.” Sighing, I gave him a pleading look. “One more time, okay?”

  “Fine,” he agreed, palming his neck. “One more, and then I have to get ready to leave.”

  If I couldn’t show him I could hold my own, no way would he let me leave with him. I had to make this work. “I can do this.”

  “Sure, you can.”

  The condescension in his voice boiled my blood to a level of wanting to turn his nuts into fertilizer. It didn’t help that he stalked behind me like a hungry lion, just waiting to go in for the kill. My hand shook as I tried to focus on the target, his pacing form distracting me out of my peripheral vision.

  “Can you stop doing that?”

  “As you wish.” Sidling up behind me, he molded into my back, his chin settling into the crook of my shoulder. “Better?”

  Rolling my eyes, I aimed the gun. “Much.”

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  “No.”