by Cora Kenborn
“I lied.” Just as I was about to pull the trigger, Brody grabbed my wrist. Glaring at him, I waved the gun in his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You know what this sick son of a bitch did to your sister.”
“I’ll never be able to forget,” he growled, kicking Finn’s chair and sending him crashing against the wall. “But we should use him as bait. Let’s let him hang himself and end this once and for all.”
Finn let out an audible sigh of relief, but I’d had enough.
“Fuck that.” Extending my arm, I aimed right between his eyes and pulled the trigger, exploding the back of Finn’s head against the wall.
Brody sighed behind me. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said we should let him hang himself. He could’ve been useful, Mateo.”
“And maybe you didn’t hear me.” Tucking the gun back in my waistband, I turned around and glared at him. “I said, fuck that. To be honest, the fact he doesn’t have two bullets in his brain makes me want to put one in yours.”
Shoving both arms into my chest, he knocked me backward. “Don’t ever question my love for Leighton. I’d die for her.”
I shoved him right back. Only mine was harder and came with a warning. “Yeah? I just killed for her. Now clean this shit up. We have work to do.”
Thirty
Leighton
Jackie paced the uneven asphalt outside the back door of Caliente, sucking on the end of a thin cigarette. As late as it was, she was still dressed to impress—a smart navy-blue pantsuit over a crisp white shirt and a simple necklace she held like a talisman. I leaned against the back of the building watching her crumble with every step.
“Since when did you take up smoking?”
Stopping, she crossed an arm over her chest and blew a heavy line of smoke. “Since when did you take to summoning me?” Shaking her head, she resumed her pacing. “Make this quick, Leighton. Your mother doesn’t know I’m gone.”
“It’s Saturday night.”
She chuckled. “Your point?” Spinning around, she peered around the corner. “Are you sure it’s safe to talk out here?”
I was way ahead of her. Before texting her to meet me during my break, I’d ensured Emilio was busy and none of his associates were anywhere near the building. I even kept a watch across the street to ensure Swenson and his buddy had taken the night off. I made mistakes, but I didn’t repeat them.
“Yes, everyone else is inside. No one’s listening.”
She rolled her eyes. “Someone’s always listening.”
After the last few days, I’d come to question everyone’s motives. There was no such thing as a selfless deed. While I didn’t want to alienate her, I didn’t have time to stand out here arguing with her.
“You were concerned about me being near Alex Atwood at the fundraiser. Why?”
The orange end of Jackie’s cigarette flickered. “I didn’t like the looks of him.”
“Right. Is that why you played a game of ‘riddle me this’ at my mother’s office? I did what you told me to.” Digging into my apron, I pulled out the picture of Alex from my father’s funeral and held it up. “I found this.”
She exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Yeah?”
Her blasé attitude irritated me. She’d presented the can of worms, and I dumped it out. She was sifting through them with me whether she liked it or not. “Why was Alex at my father’s funeral? You seem to know a lot about both of them, so I was hoping you could shed some light on this for me.”
Dropping her cigarette to the ground, she stomped it out with the toe of her shoe. “I’m sure you have access to a computer,” she mumbled. “Google Detective Alex Atwood and see what pops up.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she turned to walk away.
Moving quickly, I grabbed her arm. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you, I do a lot of things not in my job description.” Her body tensed, and her shoulders drew toward her ears. “But I didn’t sign on for any of this shit.”
“Shit? What shit? And why do you care so much about my father?”
Jackie glanced over her shoulder, and I had to swallow my reaction. The earlier nervousness etched in her face deepened into a pain I knew all too well. It caused permanent lines carved by rivers of tears only cried by someone whose heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Your father was a good man, Leighton,” she said, her tone hauntingly sad. “He cared about people and saw the good in them. Even people who did things they didn’t want to.” Her voice broke on her last words, her hand reaching for the necklace dangling just above the collar of her shirt. I caught a glimpse of it just before she wrapped it protectively in her hand.
A gold “J” on a dainty gold chain.
Just like mine.
My heart thundered in my chest. “Beautiful necklace.”
“It was a gift.” Her grip tightened, as if my acknowledgment would make it disappear.
I understood her possessiveness—her need to hold tightly to the only thing she had left. It was a lasting testament to the good part in all of us. I should’ve been jealous. It should’ve soiled my most sacred memories, tainting the infallible man I put on a pedestal.
But I wasn’t, and it didn’t.
It made him human, and instead of hating Jackie for having a private part of my father, I felt a strange kinship with her. James Harcourt wasn’t perfect. However, neither was I. I’d killed, lied, stolen, and given myself to a man who’d probably committed every sin there was.
Love wasn’t unflawed. It was ugly, damaged, imperfect, and at times tragic. But in the end, it was what kept us breathing. It was what woke us up and got us out of bed, hoping for another chance at making it better. It was what drove us to right the wrongs we carried with us far too long.
“I have to go,” she said, brushing her eye with the back of her hand.
I nodded as her heels clicked away into the darkness. “I’ll be in touch.”
I had no idea if she heard me or not, but it didn’t matter. Our business together wasn’t finished, and she knew it. However, I’d give her the space she needed to compose herself before approaching her again. Drying my damp palms on my apron, I opened the back door and went back into Caliente on a mission. There would be no more reporting back to Alex until I knew exactly who he was and what backdoor agenda he had. Whatever he wanted on the Carrera Cartel, I had a feeling it was a smoke screen for something much bigger, and I was tired of being a sacrificial lamb.
It was time to be a wolf.
Emilio must have stepped out for a moment because a quick sweep of the place found no trace of him. At almost one o’clock in the morning, it was near closing time anyway, so the place had already begun filtering out. I had to act quickly.
Keeping his office door cracked so I could listen for footsteps, I typed in Emilio’s password and Googled exactly what Jackie told me to. It took only seconds for the links to pop up, so I clicked on the first one and held my breath.
I read as fast as I could, every word turning my stomach. Alex Atwood joined the New Orleans Police Department in 1985 and the Houston Police Department as a detective in 2004. The fact that he served on the same force at the same time as my father was bad enough, but the next link I clicked on stunned me. Detective Alex Atwood served on the Project Guardian Task Force. It was the specialized task force my father created to take down the Houston based Carrera Cartel contingent.
Alex and my father worked side by side against the Carreras.
My fingers couldn’t work fast enough. Jackie wouldn’t give me useless information like this for no reason. Just as I clicked on the third link, a commotion from down the hallway sent my heart halfway up my throat.
“Amanda! You left the back door unlocked again. How many times have I warned you about that, renita?”
Shit! Emilio!
Closing out the screen, I quickly deleted the browser history and logged out of the laptop. Pushing the chair back, I rushed toward the door and slipped into the hal
lway. With my heart pounding in my ears, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath.
Oh, God, that was close. I’m never doing that again.
“Leighton, is everything all right?”
A chill crawled up my spine as I glanced up and collided eyes with my boss. “Y-yes, everything’s fine. Why?”
Emilio tilted his head. “You look a little flushed.”
“No, just tired. We were busy today. I need to finish my end of shift work. I don’t want to hold anyone up.”
“You do that.” A deadly smile parted his lips, his silver capped teeth glinting under the dimmed light. I backed away, unable to take my eyes off him. “Oh, and Leighton? Please see me after you’re done. I’d like to talk to you.”
I’d never cleaned so fast in my life. Even Amanda asked if I was on something and if so, it was rude not to share. I just laughed, not sure if I should confide in her that I didn’t want to be left alone with Emilio and end up under a tarp in the back of his SUV.
Instead, I just scrubbed harder and prayed.
As I heard Amanda clock out and the back door slam behind her, I sucked in a defeated breath, almost crushing a freshly washed glass in my bare hand.
I was alone with Emilio.
Wiping down the final table, I cursed myself for leaving my phone in my car. At least if I had it, I could’ve called someone before walking into his office so if he killed me on the spot, they would have audible evidence of the crime. Without it, it could take weeks to find my body—if they ever did.
Placing a hand against my stomach, I made my way toward Emilio’s office and peered inside. “Emilio?”
“Did you find everything you were looking for earlier?”
Letting out a startled scream, I spun around, slamming my back against the wall. Emilio stood in front of me, his eyes as dark as midnight and just as empty. He crowded into me and placed a hand against my face, his lips flattening into a hard line.
“I’m sorry?”
“I know you were on my computer, Leighton, and it wasn’t the first time.” He bent his elbow, positioning his body flush against mine. “If you wanted to know anything about your pig father, all you had to do was ask.”
Oh, God. All this time, he knew.
My mouth only managed to form one word. “How?”
He laughed, slamming his other hand by my face. “Next time you send my personal files to yourself, puta, log out of your email.”
I gasped, vindication and terror overloading my brain. I wasn’t crazy after all—just careless. Emilio knew what I’d done this whole time. He’d been the one who’d deleted the file I’d forwarded to myself, making me think I’d lost my mind while sounding like a lunatic to the DEA.
The ease of his delivery twisted my insides, causing me to shake uncontrollably. It didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, Emilio seemed to get off on my fear, dragging in an excited breath before brushing his mustache across my face until we stood eye to eye. “By the way, how’s that little angel of yours? What is she now, three? They’re so precious at that age, aren’t they? So trusting.” He paused, his cruel smile poignantly direct. “They’ll open the door for just about anyone.”
I free fell straight into hell. Everything I thought I knew was wrong, and the safety I thought protected us was a lie. As petrified as I was, I’d found clarity for the first time since leaving San Marcos.
“Let’s count up your offenses, shall we?” Sliding his arm from the wall, Emilio traced his fingers down my throat, folding them around it, and rubbing his thumb under my chin. “You’ve trespassed, broken into my personal computer, stolen from me, lied to me, tried to sell me out, oh, and let’s not forget you’re a shitty waitress who’s fucking your way into my organization.”
“What are you going to do?” I whispered as his hand tightened.
“For starters, you’re fired.”
“For starters?”
“You’ve inconvenienced me, Leighton. I don’t like to be inconvenienced. I also don’t follow codes set by weak leaders who rewrite rules to suit their own agenda.”
“Hey, everything okay in here? Sorry, I forgot my purse and saw the lights were on.” Just as Emilio pressed his thumb against my throat, the back door slammed, and Amanda breezed down the hallway.
A knowing smile crept across Emilio’s face, and he took a step backward. “Sí, Everything’s fine,” he answered, his eyes still on mine. “Leighton was just giving her notice.”
“Nooo,” Amanda whined. “You just started.”
“It’s for the best,” I rasped, my voice rough from his hold. Lowering my eyes, I quickly latched myself onto her and moved us both toward the back door, stopping to grab my keys. “I’ll walk out with you.”
I didn’t give her a chance to ask any questions. Once outside, I ran to my car and locked the doors. Halfway out of the parking lot, Emilio’s warning repeated in my head until I couldn’t breathe. Grabbing my phone from the passenger’s seat where I’d left it, I dialed Alex’s number, praying for an answer.
Just like all the calls I’d made to my grandparents, it rang and rang and rang until finally clicking into voice mail. And just like all the calls I’d made to my grandparents, I hit redial, refusing to give up.
Because now, their lives depended on it.
Thirty-One
Mateo
Slamming the door of the Tahoe, I stalked across the parking lot, barely registering anything around me. As a high-ranking cartel member, it was a stupid move. We were trained to keep our eyes forward, to the side, and a spare set in the back of our heads. Enemies came in all forms and waited for our weakest moment to attack.
I’d just found out firsthand.
However, no man’s hand or weapon would be a match for the rage thrumming through my body right now. I had four years of vengeance boiling in my blood, and if it was going to spill, there was only one man I wanted bathed in it.
I tried the door at first, knowing it would be locked. Emilio wasn’t stupid. He’d proven that. Giving it a swift kick, I beat on it with my fist. “Open this fucking door, Reyes. I know you’re in there. Open up or I swear to fuck, I’ll shoot it.”
I paused, giving him a ten second reprieve.
Nothing.
“Reyes!” I roared, kicking the door again. “Open this fucking door or I’m calling your wife and giving her a list of all the whores you’ve fucked along with a loaded Smith & Wesson.”
I’d just pulled my fist back to bang on the door again when the latch clicked, and it swung open. Emilio stood there, his smug face staring up at me, almost as if he’d been expecting me. Jerking my gun from behind my jacket, I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him inside, crashing both of us into the freezer door.
“Hola, Mateo. I—”
Lifting a knee, I drove it into his gut, cutting him off. “You’ll speak when spoken to, you piece of shit.” While he was bent over, I slammed my arm over his chest and shoved the barrel of my gun under his chin, forcing him upright. “Yes or no, did you send me into a trap four years ago?”
He held my eye, the smug smirk finally fading. Having a gun ready to blow your head off sobered any man, I supposed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“When I got arrested. Did you set that up?” I shoved the gun deeper into his throat. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
I didn’t know why I gave the warning. Emilio’s best skill was lying. It was how he still drew breath in his lungs. It was how he had the balls to look surprised while raising his thick black eyebrows.
“Why the hell would I get my best sicario locked up? Have you gone loco?”
Maybe I had. But he hadn’t seen loco yet. None of them had.
Releasing my arm from across his chest, I drove my fist into his gut. “Did you know I had a daughter?” I yelled. “You had my phone, asshole! You knew she tried to tell me.”
“Mateo,” he coughed, “what’s this all—”
I heard his collar rip as I pulled him to his feet, so I g
rabbed onto his throat instead, moving the gun to his temple. “Yes or no.”
“Did your little thief tell you that?” he rasped, his words abrasive from the pressure of my hold. “She’s broken into my office twice now. Did you know that? I’ve also caught a fed sitting across the parking lot ever since she started. You think that bullshit is a coincidence? I fired her ass tonight.”
He kept digging himself into a deeper hole and didn’t know it. He just assumed Leighton hadn’t confided in me about the DEA and I was ignorant to everything. It proved he had no idea what we shared and never did. It also proved he was a threat to her—and always had been. He also had much more to answer for than denying me my family.
Something just as unforgiveable and way more damning.
“You knew about her stepfather,” I growled, tightening my grip. “You sounded happy to tell me what he did to her. How could you know something like that unless you had dealings with him years ago? You’ve also been talking to the feds. What the hell have you been doing behind Val’s back, Emilio? How deep does your betrayal go?”
Emilio’s nostrils flared right before he spat in my face. “Fuck you.”
It wasn’t the verbal or actual disrespect that set me off. As a haze of sheer black faded my vision, all I could see was Finn Donovan. I slammed my gun across his temple, giving myself enough time to shove it back into my waistband before he righted himself. As soon as I saw his face, I pounded my fist into his ribs, smiling at the cracking sound it made. Emilio buckled forward, but managed to retaliate with a backhand I caught under my chin. Driving full force into him, I landed a hard hit into his gut again followed by an upper cut under his chin that smacked his head against the freezer door. His unfocused eyes stared at me before he slid to the floor leaving behind a huge dent in the metal.
Too bad it wasn’t in his head.
Wiping a trail of blood from my lip, I pulled my gun out again and pressed it against his head. “I should pull the trigger for the shit you just pulled, but that’s against Carrera code. Only Val can make that call.”
