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Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1)

Page 6

by Leigh K. Hunt


  Looking back at the photo of Alicio made me want to be sick again, but I did my best to compartmentalise it. He was the man that had been entrusted by the cartel to look after these hostages, and he had raped and abused them, in the same way as he treated his wife. Then once they were no longer of use to the Cartel, he disposed of them. I knew that shortly Alicio's life would be over, at the hands of Chase, and for some reason that gave me a little solace.

  "You finished yet?" River asked from the living room doorway. I knew that he had some surveillance stuff planned for us.

  I shook my head. I didn't think I'd ever finish reading the pile of files that Gabe has transferred for me. There was so much information, an overwhelming amount.

  "Well, if you don't feel like reading or watching anything else, you can go get yourself ready, and hop in the car. Car – not truck. Dress nicely, high heels and a dress if you can manage that. Oh, and a dark wig. We're off to socialise."

  Something about the way River winked at me with a cheeky grin sent butterflies soaring within me. I knew that this was not just having a lovely glass of wine on the terrace or anything. He wanted me for a job.

  * * *

  Dusky pink light lit the inside of River's sleek black Mercedes. If anyone took any notice of River in this country, they would probably think that he was one of the El Diablo Cartel from the cars he drove and the confidence that he exuded.

  I felt damn awkward in a dress, like it was too short. I tugged self-consciously at the chiffon fabric of the skirt to encourage it further down my leg, and each time, I heard a chuckle come from River's side of the car.

  He rested his hand on mine. "Calm down and relax Mack. Nothing is going to happen to you when I'm around. Just stick close to me tonight and you'll be fine." He squeezed my hand reassuringly before moving it back to the steering wheel.

  I pursed my lips, and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked good in a tux, even if he was wearing a not-quite-traditional steel grey shirt under the black jacket. I licked my lips, and returned my eyes to the road. We were on the outskirts of Tijuana city now, and the darkness of the night was finally starting to drown out the dusky light.

  The houses here were so different to those in England, especially in the poorer areas. They looked more like tin shacks with mismatched, multi-coloured roofs, as opposed to actual liveable dwellings. I could see children running, soccer balls being kicked along the dirty streets as they probably went home to have their dinner and go to bed. Bed sounded like a damn good option right about now.

  When we entered the central business district, people flocked on the streets. Some of them dressed particularly well - like River and me – some casual, out for a good night. Some women were cheap and dirty looking in see-through clothing that left little to the imagination. I assumed they were looking for their night's 'work'.

  River pulled the car down a side alley and slowed to a stop, turning to me. "Before we go inside, I want you to be packing."

  "Packing?" I repeat, searching his eyes. Oh god. He wanted me armed. I swallowed. He opened up the centre console and pulled out a black belt with two parts, ribbon thin, and held it to me. It had a small gun attached to it. I gave him a look of disbelief as I took it from his hands. I stared down at it. “Um, where exactly do you expect me to hide this?" I said as I looked down at my dress. It looked like something out of a bondage and discipline book.

  "Give it here." He took it from my hands. "Now, un-belt yourself and hitch up your dress to your waist."

  I froze. "Couldn't we have done this at home?"

  He shrugged “I’m sorry. We could have, but it’s not exactly a comfortable thing to have strapped between your legs. I thought this would be easier. Now get on with it - we need to go inside."

  I swallowed. All my self-consciousness went out the window as I heard the urgency in his words, and I shuffled in an unlady-like fashion to get my dress up to my waist. River's hands were cool against my skin as he clipped the belt around my waist and the other part around my upper thigh. I pursed my lips, and my breath hitched slightly as his fingers lightly brushed the skin of my inner thigh as he deftly tightened the thigh ribbon. River started the engine again, and we took off around the corner. The gun sat frigid against the warm skin of my leg, and I rearranged the dress before River pulled the car up in front of a large building with a red carpet rolled out the front and turned to me with a reassuring smile.

  I got out the car. It felt awkward, and I was about to readjust myself when River came around to my side of the car and took my arm in his. He paused a moment to hand the keys to a valet boy, and got a ticket in return. And then we were off. Showtime.

  "Relax, Mack, you look good." He interlaced his fingers with mine as we walked confidently up the steps to the doorman. "Lucero Marquez," he said confidently.

  We waited while the doorman looked the name up, and when he nodded his confirmation, we were ushered inside. We followed the rest of the people in, and found ourselves inside a lavish ballroom.

  "Wow," I muttered under my breath. "I am so not dressed for this." But then as I looked around, I saw most of the other women were in clothing that they could move in, much like me. Then I saw that the dancing wasn't your traditional English Ball type; it was Latino. A thrill raced up my spine, and I couldn't help but grin up at River. "Wow," I said again.

  He grinned, and squeezed my hand. "I thought you'd like it." He tugged me forward, and we stepped towards the dance floor.

  Naturally, I worried about the gun strapped to my thigh and the possibility of it going off. Damn, I hoped River was careful.

  He swung me out onto the dance floor with the crowd, and I felt the rhythm of the music throb through me, and my feet fell into time with his.

  "Lovely," he whispered in my ear. "Now, we’re here to observe Nicandro Valdez. He's a political player, works for the Cartel. He's also our next mark." He swung me out, and my eyes scanned the crowd of people. "I'll show you an image of him in a moment when we go up to the bar for a drink. There may also be other people here you’ll recognise, and it's possible that Javier will be here."

  My stomach dropped, and an icy chill flooded through my veins. "Carmen?" I whispered.

  "No." River smiled. "Not tonight. I have it on good authority that she will be thoroughly distracted."

  I pulled back at looked into River's amused eyes. "Whose authority?"

  "Gabe’s." River's eyes twinkled. "He's off to keep her company tonight."

  "Gabe?" I mouthed, looking up at River as he grinned down at me. "My god," I whispered. "How?"

  River’s lip curled in amusement. "Turns out that Carmen has a certain liking for Caucasian men... and when her husband has other plans, she uses a service that provides them for her. Gabe hacked in, and got himself a date for tonight."

  I shook my head with disbelief, and couldn't wipe the gleeful smile from my face. “Is he going to kill her?”

  “No, not likely. He’ll just keep her out of our hair for the evening,” River answered.

  “He’s going to sleep with her?”

  "Whatever it takes to get the job done," River murmured. "Now, come get a drink. We need to mingle." He led me off the dance floor, and we walked over to check his jacket, then made our way through the groups of people milling around the bar.

  River ordered two glasses of champagne, and passed me one.

  He leaned against the bar, and a little towards me. "Now, back to Nicandro, he's standing over there next to the woman in the red dress." He kind of gestured with his glass giving direction to a tall, handsome man across the bar.

  I raised my eyebrows at River, and took a sip of my drink, sweeping my eyes back towards Nicandro. He didn't 'look' like a bad man, but I guessed he was probably a right royal asshole like the rest of the El Diablo Cartel. Nicandro was smooth, and radiated confidence. I imagined he could probably sell ice to an Eskimo if he put his mind to it. "What did you say he did again?"

  "Strategic Communication
s. He's the man behind the politicians, the police, and any other official, both here and in the States." River smiled. "Quite the charmer isn't he?"

  I nodded dumbly, mulling over what River had said and kept an eye on Nicandro. He was the man behind everyone official, meaning he was also the man that probably paid everyone off to turn a blind eye to the Cartel's activities.

  It made me angry that the Cartel were never held accountable for any of the awful and inhumane things that they did, like kill a dozen beautiful, innocent women. And this Nicandro was one of the reasons for it.

  I sank the rest of the champagne and handed my glass to River, who looked at me in surprise. "Another?"

  River spoke to the barman and handed me another glass of champagne. I took it, and wrapped my fingers around the stem. I needed a cigarette. River said that we were here to observe the man and watch from afar. Well, I didn't feel like watching from afar. I felt like wrapping my hands around the smarmy prick's neck and throttling him. Unconsciously, I took a step toward Nicando.

  River placed his hand firmly on my arm before I could move any closer. "Steady on, Mack. We are just doing a bit of observation on him."

  I turned to River. "I need a fag and some air. Where's the nearest exit."

  He led me around the bar towards a set of double doors that opened out onto a terrace. We stepped out into the warm evening air, and I passed River my drink so that I could open my clutch and look for the silver cigarette case. I snapped it open, pulled out a fag, lifted it to my lips, and lit it with the matching slender silver zippo.

  I felt River's eyes on me, and turned to him. "Thanks," I muttered as he passed me my drink. We walked across the terrace to the balcony, and looked down into the courtyard below.

  "It's a beautiful evening," River commented as he leaned against the stone balcony and watched the people dancing inside.

  Now that the nicotine was entering my bloodstream, I had calmed down a little. "It is." I smiled. I reached up and slightly adjusted the wig on my head. I could feel one of the pins digging into my scalp. Once again, I was wearing the Cleopatra-styled wig, the same one that I had worn to the club, as per River's direction. It looked good with the dress, I had to admit.

  "It looks fine." River reassured me as he looked down at his empty glass. "I'm going to go and get another drink. Are you going to be okay out here for a few minutes?"

  I nod. "Of course." I watched him disappear into the crowd of people, and turned to look out over the terrace. River was right. It was a gorgeous night. I could see stars twinkling through the haze, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the small breeze on the air. Doing reconnaissance wasn’t such a bad thing, even if we were reconning a nasty piece of work.

  "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

  The deep voice startled me, and my eyes flew open to find a man standing beside me. I wanted to kick myself for not hearing him sidle up beside me. River would kick my arse if he knew. I looked up at the stranger, and recognition flared in his eyes, and I imagined the same was in mine. It was the man I danced with at the bar the night Regina was killed; her security detail.

  Jesus H. Christ. I forced a smile and tried to calm down. "Yes, I believe we danced once," I said charmingly. Surely he knew I had something to do with Regina's death... surely.

  He smiled. "Yes we did. Interesting that we bump into each other like this. Do you come to political balls often?”

  His eyes searched mine, and something in them made my skin crawl. “No, I don’t. This was a bit of a surprise for me,” I said honestly.

  He grinned. “You still have your boyfriend?"

  I couldn't help it, I laughed. "Yes, I do."

  He took a sip from his drink, and sighed. "Too bad." He grinned. "I’d like to dance with you again tonight," he added. "That's if your boyfriend doesn't mind too much?"

  I took a puff of the cigarette as I considered my response. I knew what River would do. He would go along with it to maintain his cover. I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand. "Sure," I found myself saying. "I’d love to."

  He held his hand out to me. "My name is Alvarez," he said, eyes smiling down at me as he assessed me.

  I reached out and shook his hand. "Ciara," I responded, remembering my new alias. For some unknown reason, Gabe was fond of giving us names that represented colours or anything to do with colours. Ciara meant ‘black one’ or something obscure like that. I thought the name suited the wig I was wearing.

  "Ciara? What a lovely name. Where are you from?"

  I dropped my cigarette into the ashtray at my feet, and looked up at him. "England, actually. Could you not tell?"

  Alvarez laughed, shrugging. "No. All you English speaking people sound similar... well, to me anyway."

  "But your English is very good," I commented.

  "Yes. The woman who raised me was English speaking, she thought it was a good idea to raise me bi-lingual. ‘Better work opportunities’, she used to say."

  I watched him curiously, noting the distant look in his eyes. "The woman who 'raised you'?"

  He turned to me and smiled. "Yes. I believe you would call her a Governess?"

  Sudden clarity. "Ah," I said. "You sound as though you miss her. Is she not around anymore?"

  "No, she's not," he said sharply, with a bitter note to his voice. He then turned to me, his eyes softening. "Forgive me for my bluntness. She died a few years ago."

  "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." I tried to smile at him, but fear coursed through me. This was an awkward conversation, and I wanted to know more than anything how she died. I pushed my fear away, and put my hand on his arm. "Come on then, let's have a dance."

  I could feel River's eyes on me before I saw him as I walked back into the ballroom. He was standing near the woman in red, and near Nicandro who was talking to an older man. River flashed me a smile, and turned his focus back to his companion. I knew he had my back should I need him.

  Alvarez held me close, and I hoped like hell he couldn't hear or feel my heart thumping inside my chest. And that he wouldn’t get handsy and discover the gun.

  "To dance is a way of communication," Alvarez murmured in my ear.

  I swallowed. "Really? And what, pray tell, am I telling you right now?"

  He laughed. "That you need more dancing lessons." He swung me away, and then back into his arms. "You need to relax." He grabbed my hips. "Loosen up. Dancing should never be restricted. In Latin-America, dancing is the one place where we can truly be ourselves."

  I pursed my lips together, not sure what on earth to say. Alvarez was a big, strong man, with hard features. A part of me was scared of him, but another part felt thrilled by the way he handled me. "Right," I said. "Loosen up."

  "Yes. Look around the room...notice the women. Look at how they are free as they dance. They do not let their minds restrict their bodies. They move to the music and with their dance partners.”

  He was right. About both the women, and their freedom. I was green with envy. I wanted to move like that, but while I was in the arms of Alvarez, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious and reserved. Something told me that he knew I had something to do with Regina’s death, but then when he looked down at me, I wasn’t sure. I wondered if he knew Carmen and Javier, or if he was just a security buff around these parts. He had an air of authority about him though that made me question what his real role was.

  "Mujer hermosa," Alvarez whispered in my ear.

  I smiled. "What does that mean?"

  He laughed. "Looks like you need to brush up on your Spanish as well. It means that I think you are a beautiful woman."

  I couldn't help it - I blushed, and he bent down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Thank you," I said.

  It was at that moment that River intervened. "Ciara," he said quietly. "May I have the next dance?" River smiled down at me, and then held his hand out to Alvarez. "I am Lucero, and I don't believe we've met."

  "Alvarez," he responded, and then turned to me. He handed me a business ca
rd. "I would love to talk with you more."

  I took the card, and slipped it into my clutch, and nodded. "Of course. I'll call you."

  He smiled, his eyes flicking towards River's momentarily. "If you like - I can give you some dance lessons, and then the next time you are at one of these functions you'll dazzle everyone not only with your beauty, but with your communication."

  I smiled. "That would be lovely."

  As Alvarez left the dance floor my eyes followed him until he disappeared into the crowd and River took my hand in his. "Do you know who that man was?" he asked quietly as we started to dance.

  "Yes - I think so. He was on Regina's security detail. He danced with me that night as well."

  River pulled back and smiled down at me. I thought for a minute he was going to ruffle my hair affectionately, but he didn't. "No, that is Alvarez Rico. He may have been with Regina the other night, but he was probably more of a companion than on her detail. He's one of the men on our list, and he's head of Security for the cartel."

  I actually felt adrenaline kick in. My throat felt tight, and I fought the urge to run. He was on the hit list. "Oh my god," I whispered.

  River winked at me. "And, apparently he likes you… so guess who’s going to have a dancing date with him soon?"

  7

  “If you stand still or move in any sort of pattern, Mack, you’re going to get hit. The first rule of fighting is to always keep moving. Fighting is gritty work. If you enter into a fight, you’re going to get hit – there are no two ways about it.”

  I pulled my foot back into a fighting stance, just as River had shown me, and stared him down.

  “Now hit the bag, and hit it hard.”

  I did as he told me, and as my boxing glove connected with the bag, I felt a jarring reverberation up my arm and winced. The bag hardly moved.

 

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