Anson (The Black Stallion Book 3)

by Maggie Ryan

  “How do you know we aren’t driving straight into a trap?” Natalia asked, glancing over her shoulder. “They could kill you both and use me as some sort of bargaining chip with Montez.”

  “I’d never let that happen,” Anson assured her, his hand squeezing her leg.

  “I appreciate that, and I know you believe it, but Anson, let’s be honest here. Those men have hundreds, if not thousands, of men under them. Hell, they probably could rival the army of a small country with all the guns and God knows what else in their arsenal. And they don’t even have the same code of honor as soldiers.”

  “Maybe not, but there is a code of sorts,” Anson assured her. “Sure, it’s based on fear of retribution or even death, but no man could run a billion-dollar industry without the ability to control any men who break that code. No, if Stryder says that the best plan is to meet Ortez and Hernandez, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  She might not have agreed, but she nodded and continued to drive. Soon they were again bouncing in their seats as the terrain worsened. “We’re meeting them at a lab, aren’t we?” Natalia asked.

  “I think that’s a safe bet,” Stryder agreed. “They’ve been working their way towards Rosario and the rumor is they are staging a take-over here, in the heart of Montez’s operations. After hearing about what you witnessed in the jungle, I think the rumor has moved into the fact column. And if we’ve yet to hear gunshots or smell smoke, coupled with the fact that I’m damn sure they know you both are here, my guess is they are waiting for the guest of honor to show.”

  At the next turn, Natalia slammed on the brakes as men stepped out from the jungle. Nothing was said for several minutes, the occupants of the Jeep not making a single move for the guns they each had within reach, knowing they were no competition against the rifles casually held against each man’s chest.

  One man stepped out into the road and gestured for them to pull over. Once they had climbed from the Jeep, two others joined them.

  “My name is Ricardo Ortez and this is Carlos Hernandez,” he said in Spanish, waiting until the other man tilted his head towards the group before turning back. “Ms. Alvarez, may I say that it is an honor to meet the daughter of Bautisto Alvarez. Your father was a man of honor.”

  Anson felt some of the tension in the thick air dissipate and listened as Natalia accepted the tribute to her father. Everyone was speaking Spanish, but Anson was managing to understand just fine. “Thank you, Señor Ortez. I appreciate your kind words.”

  With a nod of his head, Ortez then chuckled and lifted his eyes to where Anson and Stryder stood. “Forgive me, but I hope you understand my amusement. I never would have imagined that I’d be inviting a gringo to the party. But, though our, shall I say, business ventures are different, I admire you for your determination to offer help to those innocents who are caught up in battles they have no control over.”

  Anson nodded and made the first move of the three, taking two steps forward. He didn’t stop because of the guns that instantly lifted, but because he had no intention of allowing Natalia to be beyond his reach. With a single glance from Ortez, the guns lowered and Ortez took the final steps necessary to accept Anson’s offered hand. As Stryder followed to shake the men’s hands, Anson slipped his arm around Natalia and asked the question they all wanted to know the answer to.

  “Montez?”

  “According to our men, he’s on his way to the party, though I fear he’s under the wrong impression about the other guests.” Hernandez turned to Natalia. “I’ve heard the true story of how you came to be with Montez. You’re a brave woman, Ms. Alvarez, and though I admired your father, I admire you even more. For someone to make the choice to step into the lion’s den takes courage.”

  “I’ve not earned your admiration, sir,” Natalia countered. “This man killed my entire family. I swore to avenge their deaths, and yet I haven’t done so… not as long as Montez lives.”

  “I beg to disagree. You could easily have chosen a different path. With your family name, you could have chosen to form another cartel, to enter the trade of your father. You would have found many who would have encouraged you to do so, and yet you chose to step away. Unfortunately, Montez is not a man willing to let you go, and unless we stop him now, I fear you’ll never be free.”

  Anson could feel her trembling and yet heard her say words that had his heart skipping a beat.

  “Then may I humbly ask you to join our mission? To help me avenge my family? To allow me the freedom to leave Argentina and build a life that my abuela wished for me? One without drugs, without war, without death?”

  “It would be our pleasure,” Hernandez said, and Ortez nodded.

  “Then the only question remaining is which one of us gets to send the fat bastard to hell,” Anson said in what he hoped was perfect Spanish, not wanting to fuck it up. He knew that this had to end… now.

  While Ortez and Hernandez seemed to be contemplating how to answer, Anson had to grin when Stryder shrugged and said, “Hell, I suggest we flip a coin.”

  They didn’t flip a coin but they did formulate a plan that was in place by the time Ortez received word that Montez had arrived at the primitive lab. Though every cell in Anson’s body wanted to insist Natalia stay behind, he knew she’d not only disobey, she’d take it as an insult to her abilities and it would be a slap in the face of the hell she’d lived in since that day in the church. Of all of them, she was the one who had the right to demand justice. Instead, he drew her to him, saying nothing with words, letting his eyes and his kiss communicate his love, his respect, his silent appeal that she be careful.

  “I know,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I love you, too.” When he released her, she added, “Let’s finish this. I’m anxious to see your ranch, hug Zoya, and meet your Jennie.”

  Anson nodded and then the three moved out of the cover of the coca fields. They could tell Montez’s attention was drawn to them by the heads turning in their direction. Anson could see the surprise on the obese man’s face, not realizing that the guards he’d thought were his had either turned on him or been replaced by men from the rival cartels.

  As Montez swung his glance to him, Anson could see the raw looking groove on his throat testifying that a bullet had indeed grazed him.

  “Bringing her to me isn’t going to save your life, but I’ll make it a quick death instead of flaying every inch of your skin from your body. Nobody touches what’s mine without permission,” Montez said.

  “Natalia wasn’t yours that night on the stage in Moscow and she’s never been yours, you fat fuck,” Anson said, watching a flash of confusion cross Montez’s swarthy face before his eyes widened, his head swiveling to take in Stryder, who stood on the opposite side of Natalia.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

  It wasn’t Anson who answered, it was Natalia. “These are the Steele brothers. You know, the ones who sent your buddy Vasily Poplov straight to hell?”

  Recognition chased away the confusion and Anson saw fear take its place as the drug lord’s mouth fell open.

  “And it’s time you joined him.”

  Before she uttered the last word, Ortez, Hernandez, and their men stepped out from concealment. There was no negotiation, no compromises—no mercy. Bullets did the talking. Though Anson was aware that hundreds of rounds were exchanged between the rival cartels, the only target he kept his eyes on was the man who was already sinking to his knees, the gun he’d drawn far too late falling from his fingers. It was over almost as quickly as it had begun. As agreed among them, no one would know whose bullets had ended Montez’s life and Anson knew that he, Stryder and, most importantly, Natalia could live with that. About to step to his right, to go to her, to take her in his arms, he heard someone scream. Looking at where Montez had been, thinking for a moment the man had somehow managed to survive, he saw a man whirling in agony, completely engulfed in flames. Anson’s mind processed the information in nanoseconds. Paco was often cut with kerosene.
Kerosene was stored in drums. Drums that were already burning next to those that were beginning to expand with the intensity of the heat. The gunfire hadn’t just taken out Montez’s men, it was turning the primitive lab into a bomb.

  “Natalia, get back!” he yelled, his heart stopping in his chest when he saw her moving forward towards the human torch who should have already fallen but somehow was still on his feet. Anson leapt forward. “Natalia, stop!” he screamed, meeting her eyes when she turned her head to look at him. Staring into the green depths, knowing he was too late, she was too close. “Natalia!” he screamed, his soul shattering as he watched the world explode.

  Anson groaned as he pushed to his hands and knees. Shaking his head to rid it of the ringing in his ears, he lurched forward, cursing when he fell over something, falling again. He blinked his eyes against the burning smoke that threatened to blind him and when he saw her, he wished it had.

  “No!” he roared, stumbling forward to the body sprawled in the dirt. “Natalia!” Dropping to his knees, he pushed the board off her and gathered her in his arms, the blood streaming from her coating his hand as he cradled her head. “God, no!” he said again, this time a whisper as he bent closer. Her body was as limp as a rag doll when he kissed her and it was the longest moment of his life before he realized that he could feel her breath against his cheek. “Natalia, oh God, hang in there. Don’t you dare die on me!” he begged. “I can’t live without you.”

  Stryder sank down on the other side. “Fuck!”

  “Goddamnit, she was fine!” Anson shouted. “She wasn’t shot but when the saw the man burning… fuck, Stryder, she was going to help him when the lab blew.”

  “Easy, let me look.” Stryder ran his fingertips over Natalia’s head. Pushing back her hair, he saw where she’d been struck. “Something hit her temple and the back of her head. There’s a lot of blood—you know head wounds bleed like stuck hogs—but Anson, she’s breathing, she’s alive, she’s going to be all right.”

  Anson prayed his brother was right because if he lost this woman, he’d lose the will to live himself. He pulled her closer to his chest. “Hang in there, colibrí, I’ve got you. I love you.” As he spoke, he began to stand, Stryder rising to help him to his feet. They were met by Ortez.

  “We’ve got a plane. We’ll get her to the hospital.”

  Anson nodded but he made the only call he could live with. “A plane is good, but we’re going home. Get us the fuck out of this country.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe she needs—”

  Natalia released a soft moan, which was music to Anson’s ears. He was fairly confident she was close to regaining consciousness. She would be okay, and he would make damn sure of it.

  “She needs to be in Texas. I can’t risk her safety any longer, and being back home is the only place I feel secure about.”

  Ortez seemed to understand Anson’s need to just get Natalia someplace safe and ordered a Jeep be brought to take them to the airfield. Ortez pulled the phone away from his ear and said, “I’ll have a doctor meet us at the plane just to be sure. He can fly all the way to Texas if necessary.”

  Anson nodded. “I appreciate that.”

  As the Jeep appeared, the brothers walked towards it, Anson carrying Natalia and Stryder walking with his hand on his brother’s shoulder, none connected by blood—and yet a stronger bond didn’t exist.

  Chapter 16

  Opening her eyes slowly, Natalia checked to see if she would once again wake to a pounding headache, and feel forced to pop another pill the Argentinian doctor had given Anson to administer for pain. Everything had been a blur since the explosion. She remembered bits and pieces but not everything. She faintly remembered a doctor looking over her, an airplane, Anson and Stryder hovering over her like she was precious cargo, but so much of her memory since the shootout in Rosario was muddled by the concussion and a drug-induced haze. She had slept so much, waking to always find Anson holding her hand, or carrying her like a child in his arms. She hated being weak and in need of care, but the large lump on her temple, and the piercing pain caused by the blow to the head, gave her no choice but to take those damn white pills that would even knock out a three-hundred pound linebacker. Pausing a moment before fully opening her eyelids all the way, she took stock of what her pain level was.

  Nothing. No pain. My head feels fine. Not even a dull ache. No roiling nausea from the concussion. Thank God.

  She opened her eyes all the way and let out a sigh of relief. She was in a large bed with massive posts on each corner. She smiled seeing the posts were intricately carved with flowers and vines, small butterflies and birds. Turning her head slowly, she saw the same beautiful workmanship on the headboard, where several fluffy pillows were stacked. She might be in a very comfortable bed with soft cotton sheets and a lovely patchwork quilt lying over her, but the carvings reminded her of the jungle… the one she’d shared with Anson. She didn’t remember being brought to this room, but could only assume she was in Texas and at The Black Stallion Ranch. In fact, she could remember pulling up to the large gates, though that memory was extremely foggy.

  “Oh good! You’re finally awake!” An older woman came into view with the sunlight streaming in through the windows highlighting her gray curls. The woman wore bright colors and long dangling earrings made out of topaz and silver. “How are you feeling?” She reached for a large ceramic mug that appeared to be hand painted. “Take a slow drink of this.”

  Natalia sat up in the bed and wrinkled her nose when the woman handed her the tea. “What is it? Please no more drugs. My head feels better. I just feel a bit groggy.”

  “Oh hell. I wouldn’t give you any of those damn chemicals. I could have beaten those boys silly for drugging you up with all that synthetic crap.” She paused as if something had finally dawned on her. “I’m sorry. You don’t even know who I am. How rude of me.”

  Natalia smiled. “I’m guessing you are Jennie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Oh?” Jennie said, putting her hands on her hips. “Exactly what sort of tales have my boys been telling out of school?”

  Natalia couldn’t help but smile. How could someone feel an instant bond with a stranger? And yet, Anson had spoken so lovingly about this woman that she felt she knew her. “I promise every single word was to sing your praises.” Natalia put the steaming brew to her lips and tried to take a sip, though the liquid was still slightly too hot.

  “Well, in that case, maybe I’ll give the boys a little slack. Oh, and yes, dear, I’m Jennie. And let me say, you gave us all quite the scare.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and patted Natalia’s leg. “I’ve seen a lot of rescued women come join us at the ranch in my time, but not one in the condition that you were in. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen my share of cuts and bruises, mind you. But even when our Adira got blown off that fancy boat of hers, she came to us on her own two feet. When Anson walked in and was cradling you in his arms, I about had a heart attack. My old ticker isn’t up for that kind of excitement.”

  Blowing on the hot liquid, Natalia said, “I’m sorry. I hate that I am such a burden.”

  “Oh, you aren’t a burden at all. Don’t you go down that path of feeling sorry for yourself or others. That’s what I’m here for.” Jennie nodded toward the mug. “Drink up. That tea is just what you need to help with that hell of a concussion you got.”

  Natalia hated the smell, which wasn’t a good advertisement about what the taste would be like. “What’s in it?” As soon as she said the words, she regretted doing so. She didn’t want Jennie to find her rude.

  “It’s a tea I made myself. Chinese skullcap, some turmeric, arnica tincture, dried blueberry, and fish oil. Far better than that white man’s poison they were drugging you with.”

  Natalia looked at Jennie, who sounded stern, but had the sweetest eyes and the warmest smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve used some of those things before. I’m a firm believer that mother nature gives us gifts of healin
g if we only take the time to learn.”

  “I just knew I was gonna love you,” Jennie said, with a huge smile that seemed to cause her entire body to glow. “Go ahead now, it doesn’t taste anywhere near as bad as you fear.”

  Natalia took a cautious sip, and then another. Jennie was right. While it wasn’t a beverage she’d order by choice, it really wasn’t half bad.

  “You try to finish that. I’m going to go tell everyone that you are up and feeling better,” Jennie said, standing.

  “I would really like to take a shower first, if you don’t mind. I feel like I have some cobwebs in my brain I would like to wash away.” Natalia looked at the dirt caked under her fingernails. “And I probably brought back half of the dirt from Argentina with me.”

  “Go right ahead, dear.” Jennie pointed to a closed door. “That’s the guest bathroom, and everything you’ll need is inside. I also picked up some essentials you’ll need until you feel up for a shopping trip. Anson called me before you all took off on the plane with your sizes, and from the looks of you, I think I did a pretty good job in my guessing on what would fit or not.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” Natalia was surprised by the hospitality of this woman she had just met. “But thank you so much. I appreciate it.” There was a lot about Jennie that reminded her of her abuela, a compliment she didn’t extend lightly.

  “I’ll tell everyone you are up and at it; you go ahead and freshen up, and then I’ll get back to making dinner. I planned a big feast for tonight in honor of Anson returning safely and allowing us the opportunity to meet his special lady.” She winked at Natalia. “I can tell you got that boy hooked. He rambled for hours about your adventures last night when you all arrived late. That boy didn’t stop gushing.”