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I'll Remember You (Hell Yeah!)

Page 17

by Sable Hunter


  Silence.

  Joseph started pacing. “He’s alive? How does he look? What’s wrong?”

  Noah sat down on the couch, facing his brothers. “He looks the same, maybe thinner. And I don’t know what’s going on. He’s living with a Hispanic family and as far as I can tell, he doesn’t remember who he is.”

  “Did you talk to him?” Isaac was confused. “Did you bring him home?” He started to walk to the door. “Aron?”

  “Hush,” Noah admonished him. “No, he’s not here and yes, I talked to him briefly.” He began to explain what had happened. “Skye and I took off the moment I got the call.” He looked at Jacob. “They notified me because I’d been up there a while back with information that might help Philip. Remember the drive I found in the cave?” They said they remembered. “I didn’t say anything to you, and I asked them not to, because I was afraid of what I’d find when I went down there.”

  “What do you mean?” Isaac looked worried.

  Noah looked down. “Well, despite what I told you, I still had this dread that maybe Aron had wanted to start over. I even wondered if it was because of me.”

  “Shit, he’d never leave Libby, even if he did want to toss you off a cliff.” Joseph drawled.

  Noah smiled, knowing his brother was kidding. “I know, I’ve been as torn up about all of this as you have. I guess it affects all of us differently.”

  “Go on.” Jacob wanted to hear it all.

  “When we left, I was heading for the airport, but I called Roscoe and he made me wait while he checked everything out. And it’s a good thing he did. Because he unearthed some information that just blew me away.”

  “What would that be?” Joseph was getting antsy. He wanted to do something right then.

  “I can’t explain it, but Aron is with the drug lord of the El Duro Drug Cartel.”

  “What the fuck?” Isaac snarled. “I thought you said he was at a ranch.”

  “I did, but the ranch is owned by Tomas Delgado, the father of Martina Rodrigo Delgado.”

  “Martina?” Jacob looked as if a light had come on in his head. “Dammit, I know who she is. She had a huge crush on Aron. I flew down to Los Banos with him once to look at some cattle.” His brow was furrowed with worry. “What has Martina and her father got to do with the drug cartel?”

  Noah snorted. “Martina is the most powerful drug lord in all of Mexico. She’s ruthless and somehow she and her family have Aron.”

  “I don’t understand.” Isaac looked ready to explode. “A drug lord? How in the hell did that happen?”

  Noah held up his hands. “Roscoe wouldn’t let me go down there alone. My first inclination was to go to the ranch on the excuse that I wanted to check out Tomas’s bulls, but he told me the name McCoy would sound a huge alarm for them.”

  “Yea, it would,” Jacob agreed. “There’s no way they don’t know who Aron is. She used to all but throw herself at him, the girl was in love.”

  “Then that’s what this is about.” Joseph whistled.

  Noah continued, “I called Micah Wolfe to go with me, just in case I needed him to call the ranch. And Kyle Chancellor flew us down in his plane. Roscoe and Vance took care of all the arrangements, but before we could go to the ranch, we...uh...ran into Aron and Martina and her uncle at a restaurant.”

  All three of them were hanging on Noah’s every word.

  “We were sitting there when the three of them came in with four armed guards.” Noah ran a hand through his long hair. “By armed, I mean, automatic weapons. AK47’s. Serious shit. We were shocked. I kept looking at Aron and he saw us, but there was no reaction.”

  “You don’t think he was just covering up? Could it be working with the FBI or something?” Joseph was grasping at straws.

  Noah shrugged his shoulders and chuckled, wryly. “FBI? I don’t think so or the DEA either. At one point, he got up to go to the bathroom and I followed him. I said his name. I said ‘Aron’.

  “What did he do?” Isaac asked.

  “He asked me what I said, but then one of the big armed goons came in and wanted to know if ‘Mr. Wade’ was having problems.”

  “Mr. Wade?” Jacob repeated the name.

  “Yea, Austin Wade, Jaxson had told me that, too.”

  “Well, enough of this. When are we going after him?” Joseph wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.

  Jacob held up his hand. “Hold on.” He had a phone call. “McCoy.” He listened for a few seconds, then his eyebrows rose. “You have information on Aron?” They all tensed. “Okay, Mr. Brock Phillips, I’m listening.”

  ***

  Pop! Pop! The lash came down hard on Aron’s back, over and over again. He winced, closing his eyes, but he never cried out. Martina stood behind him, watching the rivulets of blood run down his wide back. He was tied with his arms up and stretched out, almost as if he were being crucified.

  “Stop it!” she finally cried out. “Enough!” She motioned to the man wielding the whip. “Leave us.” The man went.

  She walked up to Aron and touched his shoulder. He was wet with sweat. He flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I can help you. I can stop this.” Her whisper sounded desperate. “All you have to do is promise me, help me convince Esteban you won’t betray us.”

  Aron laughed. “You’re going down, Martina. If I don’t do it, somebody else will.”

  Her stomach muscles were clenching and unclenching. Exacting revenge, carrying out death sentences was her specialty, but this was the man she loved. Every molecule in her body was rebelling against the idea of eliminating him. The tables had turned. Esteban was rallying support among their troops for her to dispose of Aron McCoy, saying he threatened their very existence. And he did. She knew this. Normally, she had complete control, but Aron made her weak. She was losing the battle. “I can’t stand this.” Her hand hovered over the raw stripes crisscrossing his skin.

  “Then let me go,” he taunted her. “You are the Diosa. Show me how powerful you are. Turn me loose. Do something right for a change. Let me go home.”

  “Your home is with me.” She insisted with an uncharacteristic whine to her voice.

  Aron pulled on the rings in the ceiling which held the chains imprisoning him. He wanted to bellow with rage. “Tell me about her, Martina. Tell me about my wife.” She wouldn’t do it, he had no illusions. But he wanted to torment her like she was torturing him.

  He watched as her face transformed, changing from attractive to a sneering mask. “Your wife’s a fat slut. She didn’t wait on you. Her babies aren’t even yours.”

  Aron laughed. “I don’t believe you. My wife is beautiful and faithful. She loves me. She waits for me.” He had no doubt of this. The wife he was holding onto in his dreams was an angel. “Tell me, Martina, how did you pull this off exactly?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to look out the small barred window.

  “What kind of a woman has to kidnap a man?” He watched her shoulders square and her back stiffen.

  “Do you want to die?” She lunged at him. “Don’t you realize it is only I standing in between you and the executioner’s sword?”

  Aron weighed his words, aching to go home. But the truth was the truth. “If my choice is to stay with you or die…” He paused. “I choose the sword.”

  ***

  Jacob listened carefully to what he was being told. His brothers stood silently by, their bodies tense with anticipation. “Of course. I appreciate anything you can do. Yes, we’ll do whatever it takes.” He cut his eyes toward Joseph. “If what you’re saying is true, the money is yours.”

  Isaac and Noah looked at one another, wondering what the rest of the day would bring.

  “We’ll take any help you can give us.” Jacob stopped to write down a number. “If we can pull this off, we’ll offer you whatever protection we can.” In a few moments he hung up. The other three brothers stood, waiting. “Well, Noah, you were right.”

  “How so?”
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  “Brock Philips works at Los Banos. He’s in love with the youngest Delgado girl and wants to take her out of danger, away from the life she’s living. At some point, he and Aron teamed up to work together.”

  “Start at the beginning,” Joseph urged. “I don’t understand. How did Aron get to Los Banos? Did he say?”

  “We might as well sit down.” He pointed to the couch. “Who wants a drink?” They all decided they could use one. “While he poured them each a shot of brandy, he talked. “Apparently, Aron was injured while he and Libby were snorkeling. Martina was on her yacht off the shore near Seven Mile Beach and found him in the water, badly injured. They took him on board.”

  “Damn,” Isaac muttered. “So, all the time we were looking for him, she had him.”

  “Exactly.” Jacob sighed. “While he was knocked unconscious, she elected to sail off with him instead of contacting the authorities on the island. Undoubtedly, she knew what had happened. She just chose to ignore his rights. Brock said that Alessandra, the sister, was on the yacht with them and when he told them he didn’t know who he was or what had happened to him, the queenpin just decided to manufacture him a life different than what he had.”

  “You said he was hurt?” Noah was concerned.

  Jacob let out a harsh breath. “Aron was seriously hurt. He had brain surgery in Mexico City, and he’s had a lot of trouble since with swelling and headaches.”

  “Is he okay?” Joseph stood up. He seemed on the verge of flying off the handle or running out the door. He couldn’t be still.

  “That’s debatable.” Jacob sat on the desk. “Martina convinced Aron his name was Austin Wade and that they were engaged to be married.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Isaac cursed. “What about Libby?”

  Noah and Jacob both held up their hands. “Hush, Isaac!” Jacob frowned at his brother. “Libby is not to know a word of this. Brock says Aron never showed one speck of interest in the Delgado woman. He says our brother began to remember. At one point he and Philips had a plan to gather information and take down the cartel. He says Aron was planning on coming home.”

  “What happened?” Joseph’s face was full of worry.

  “Aron got the information, enough to bring her down if we can get it in the right hands. He gave it to Brock.”

  “Why did he do that?” Snap! Isaac broke a pencil in half he’d been holding.

  “According to Philips, when Aron started remembering, that bitch did something to him. Alessandra says they took him to a chemist and gave him some kind of a shot and when he came back, he’d forgotten everything about us and Libby that he’d gained back.”

  “Shit.” Noah hung his head down and held it with his hand, his forearms resting on his knees. “Will he ever get his memory back?”

  “I don’t know.” Jacob was solemn. “We’ll have to try and find out what they’ve done to him. But it gets worse…”

  “Worse, how the fuck could it be worse?” Joseph was yelling now.

  “As far as he could tell, Aron had figured out who Martina was and he’d decided to leave. He gave Brock a copy of the files on a flash drive, enough for the authorities to arrest her. Aron was leaving when she came home. They had an argument, a confrontation. Aron showed his cards and now he’s gone from being a fiancé, to being a prisoner.”

  “We’ve got to rescue him.” Isaac was adamant.

  “I agree.” Jacob’s mouth was set in a determined line. “Brock doesn’t think we have much time.”

  ***

  Los Banos Ranch

  “She’s my sister, Brock,” Alessandra spoke quietly, head bowed. “How can I betray her?”

  This was hard. He knew she was torn. “What do you want, baby?” He pushed a strand of silky hair behind her ear. “What kind of life do you and your father have? Is this what you want?”

  A tear rolled down her face. “I love her.”

  “I know you do.”

  “But, I love you.” She looked up at him with limpid brown eyes. “And I want a future and a family. I want babies.” Her voice hiccupped with a sob. “And I don’t want them to grow up in El Duro.” She threw herself in his arms. “I’ll help you. What do you need?”

  Rubbing her back, he let his mind race. “Blueprints of the hacienda.”

  Alessandra stiffened. “How do I find that?”

  “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I’m a damn ranch hand. But we need a body count, how many mercenaries are on the grounds at any particular time.”

  “What else?” She wasn’t offering any answers, but she was listening.

  “We need to know where Aron is, what room, and his condition.”

  “I’ll have to go over there, I can do that.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she was too pretty for Brock to resist, he stole a kiss.

  “That’s my girl.”

  “But, the blue prints are out of my league.” She looked up at him. “We’ll have to get help.”

  “Who can we trust?” She’d lost him.

  “Papá, we can trust Papá.”

  ***

  Galveston, TX

  The sound of crashing waves comforted Harper Summers. They were always on time. The tide rolled out, then rolled back in with precision. She craved predictability. More than anything, Harper hungered for structure in her life. She needed boundaries. In the past year, it seemed her life was careening out of control. Nightmares of Noah and Ajax were all mixed up with her insecurities and fears. God, how she wished she were normal. No one understood her, at least no one she loved. Her parents had rejected her. Noah had rejected her. And there were others who only wanted to use her or hurt her.

  She sat on the wood plank floor, in the corner of the deck. Her knees were raised and she hugged her legs as close to her chest as possible. Harper tried to make herself small. Sometimes she just wanted to disappear.

  Her days were half-way normal. She got up, went to work, then returned. If it weren’t for Natalie, she wouldn’t have made it. This beach house belonged to her. And the job she had at Joe’s Crab Shack kept her sane. Harper didn’t ask for much out of life. She didn’t seek out a club anymore, it was just too dangerous. Even though she couldn’t function sexually, in the vanilla world, she’d vowed never again to seek out a Dom. Men and pleasure. Love and sex. Romance and Marriage. None of those things were for her. Harper had resigned herself to just existing. What she was and what she needed was considered a perversion and she was weary of being condemned for what she was. She didn’t know how to be anything else and she was tired of trying.

  What she needed was a hero. A man who would walk into her life and accept her for what she was. Give her what she needed. Protect her, love her, cherish her for what she was. But a man like that didn’t exist. Not for her. Once…once she’d known a man capable of that kind of unconditional devotion, but she’d pushed him away. And a girl like her, she wasn’t worth a second chance.

  As the sound of the sea roared all around her, the wind steadily blowing, the seagulls crying, Harper began to weep. If she could just turn back the clock. Just be different. Dare she say his name? Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to the bayous of Terre Bonne Parish, to the dark still waters, to the Spanish moss dripping from the trees. If she were really still, she could conjure up his voice.

  “Harper, what are you doing out in this cold, baby?” Strong arms wrapped around her, picking her up and carrying her inside. God Almighty, she had lost her mind. Her imagination was going crazy. “Let’s get you warm. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”

  This was real. She had been so deep in her sorrow, for a few moments she thought her dreams were overtaking her. But he was here. She ran her hands down his arms. He was solid. Looking up into his dear face, she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Revel?” Her voice broke on the word. “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think?” He smiled at her tenderly. “I’ve come to take you home.”

  ***

  On the highway
between Bandera and Austin

  “Cassie,” Bowie said the name and smiled. “Sweet Cassie.” He hadn’t kissed her, but it was just a matter of time. When he’d shown up at her house a couple of days ago, she had been shocked. Bowie hadn’t understood why. Didn’t she know how precious she was?

  The look on her face had told him all he needed to know. She was as lonely as he was. And she needed him. There was work to be done around her place. A woman like her didn’t need to be alone. No, woman did. It just worried him sick thinking about her being all by herself in that house, miles from town. Oh, it wasn’t just because she was in a wheelchair, although that did make her particularly vulnerable.

  He could still hear her voice when she’d opened the door and found him standing on her porch. “Bowie, what are you doing here?”

  “I hoped you might welcome some company.” He’d waited for her to invite him in. For a minute or two he had doubted she would. “Could we have something to drink and just talk?” Maybe he should have called to ask her out on a date instead of just barging in unannounced. But Bowie knew, deep down, she wouldn’t have agreed to see him. She would have come up with some excuse. He smiled, remembering. Bowie felt as if he were harder to turn down in person. After all, he was cute.

  “Please, come in,” she’d said. They had hit it off, even more so than they had at the Silver Dollar. Oh, she was shy. Every time she looked into his eyes, she blushed. Bowie’s heart pounded just thinking about her. Her skin was so soft. The few times he’d been able to touch her hand, he had trembled with the privilege.

  Once they’d started talking, it seemed they couldn’t stop. Bowie was amazed at what they had in common—outlooks, beliefs, hopes, dreams. She shared his views on the environment and immigration – on the rights of animals and the protection of children and the elderly. Politics and religion. There was no topic they veered away from, and even though they had some lively discussions, it was clear they could become fast friends.

 

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