Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1)

by Leigh K. Hunt

  So I changed tack and decided to clean up my room before I went and delved into research. I couldn't think properly when everything was in a state of chaos.

  I fished my iPod out of my suitcase, and docked it into the sound system. Drum and Bass started pounding around the room, and instantly I felt my dark mood starting to lift. I separated my dirty laundry from my clean, and took it down to put it in the machine. The rest of the house was quiet, but my room was thick with noise. I loved it.

  I was surprised that River didn't have staff in this house, but then he probably had trust issues, so that wouldn't work. He was the one who said that anyone could be bought with enough money. And he was right. With the right connections and wads of cash, you could.

  I hung clothing up in the wardrobe, and stacked shoes neatly side by side. The stuff that River and Chase had bought me was all designer, and beautiful. I guess I needed to look the part in any situation. Since they had paid me to come to Mexico and they were currently protecting my sorry arse, I was sort of living on their terms.

  When I finished sorting out my clothing, I walked into the bathroom and took in that state of chaos. I put my make-up away in draws, my toothbrush in the holder, and tidied up the bottles in the shower. I picked up the wet bath towel, and other used towels, and together with the sheets from my bed, I took those down to launder as well once my clothes were finished. I was starting to feel much better about the world.

  I shut the music off in my room, and went to find Gabe, who would be able to supply all of the files I needed on Alvarez.

  Only the house was empty. They had all disappeared. I looked out the kitchen window and saw that two of the cars were missing.

  "Bugger," I muttered. I stood there with my hands on the bench for a few moments before I turned around and rifled through the fridge for a glass of chilled juice. With drink in hand, I retrieved the cigarettes from my bag and stepped outside into the afternoon sun, to light up. I decided that I was going to savour a few moments peace while I could.

  I sat down on one of the deckchairs, lowered my sunglasses over my eyes, and inhaled deeply. It was heaven.

  The sun was hot as it beat down on me, but I didn't care. I felt safe. Chances were that it was going to burn my fair English skin to a crisp, but that didn't bother me too much either. I wanted to have a little more natural colour by the time I went back to England, and there was really only one way to achieve that. At least lying in the sun wasn't exerting.

  I really needed to write to my aunt and let her know how my 'trip/holiday' was going. She would worry if she didn't hear from me soon; especially as I should have been back in England by now.

  I walked into the coolness of the house and over to Gabe's iPad. I keyed in his security code, and logged into my email.

  I hadn't checked it in ages, and I blew a sigh of frustration when I saw a message sitting in there from Luke from a week ago.

  McKenna,

  We need to talk. And we can hardly do that if you're flitting off around the world somewhere and won't even respond to my emails.

  We agreed that you would buy my half of the house off me, and so far I haven't seen a penny. Where are you anyway? You know that you can't run from your problems. And you can't run from me.

  Call me when you get this email.

  Luke.

  I wanted to scream. Actually, more than that - I wanted to bash the shit out of Gabe's iPad for delivering the email to me. "Fucker," I growled. Who the fuck did he think he was? It was MY house. Elsie had transferred the family home into my name when she started to get sick, for god's sake. I gritted my teeth. She would be utterly horrified if she knew what Luke was up to.

  He'd fucked my best friend, was reaming me for half the value of the house, had forced me into the sex industry, which in turn had me whisked away by assassins, and now I had a giant fucking bounty on my head - all because he was an asshole. To put it plainly - he fucked me seven ways from Sunday.

  I was no longer going to be emotionally controlled or abused by a man - not now, and not ever again. But now Luke wanted to fucking talk. Again. I wasn't going to talk to him until I got back to England. If we were going to talk, it was going to be on my terms.

  I exhaled a sigh, shook my head to clear it, and returned to checking my emails.

  There was another email amongst the junk that I opened, from Theodore Olsen. I had no idea who that was, but I opened it anyway.

  He was a lawyer.

  "Oh god," I muttered.

  Dear Ms Carmichael,

  It has come to our attention that you have not been in contact with Mr Luke Sommers for an extended period of time.

  Mr Sommers has charged us with the collection of 460,000 pounds, the current level of debt owing for the house in East Dulwich, London, the 2010 Mini Cooper S that he states he bought you, as well as 96,000 pounds in joint assets and financial support he has given you during the last six years, in which you only earned minimal amounts.

  We understand that you are currently out of the country. However, it is still imperative that we speak with you.

  If you do not want this matter to go before the Courts, then please contact us by the 31st October, and we can have a discussion.

  Yours sincerely,

  Theodore Olsen

  Solicitor

  I looked at the date on the screen. Today was the 29th October. I had two days to get back to them. I just didn’t know what to say.

  8

  I felt as though this was just the beginning of the end. Temporarily foregoing the email, I was going to write to my aunt's carers, I stormed off to my bedroom, rifled through the drawers and wardrobe, and found some clothes to work out in. I just couldn’t write the email to Elsie’s carers when I was in a foul mood. I had to somehow get this rubbish out of my system.

  I stomped my way down to the training room, and started smashing the shit out of the boxing bag. With each hit, I imagined Luke's smarmy face on the receiving end. After a while, I started to feel buggered, and a bit better. If I was really being honest - I was actually enjoying myself. Perspiration poured from my head, and ran down my body, but I just kept going. I remembered what River had said about punching through the bag, and that the hit doesn't just end at impact. And the harder I worked, the more I threw my body and weight behind it, and the more the bag swung. I even managed to get into a rhythm of dodging when it swung back at me. Practice was definitely helping my technique, and what was even better was that there was no one there to critique me. It was just me and the bag.

  I thought that target practice with a gun would probably work wonders as well, but I highly doubted that River would allow me to do that in my current state of mind.

  I just couldn't believe that after all this Luke still had power over me and my emotions. As an accountant, he already had the 'arsehole' streak in him. I just never really imagined I would be on the receiving end of it. I punched the bag again.

  And the cheek of him involving lawyers!

  I grabbed the bag as it swung back at me, and leaned against it. I refused to cry. I didn't want that bastard having any more of my tears.

  If I was going to cry, it was for those poor women who had lost their lives because of me. It was for their families and friends. And I guess also for myself. I was getting deeper and deeper into a dire situation, and right now, I had no way out of it.

  I sat down on the floor, and lay back like a starfish, waiting for my heart to regulate after my physical exertion.

  I started making a list of stuff that I had to do in my head as I stared up at the ceiling, littered with halogen lights.

  1. Contact my lawyer, and see if there was any way we could delay the whole potential court thing until I got back. I had the money - well - River and Chase had it. Well, most of it.

  2. Pay Luke back a shitload of money.

  3. Get my arse out of Mexico, preferably alive. If that meant killing Carmen, then so be it. I didn't really want to kill anyone, but at least if she was
dead then it would go some way towards me feeling better about all of those women who'd died because of me.

  4. Have a holiday. I really needed a break, without any drama. God knows how I would pay for it, but hopefully my lawyer could work out some way to maybe bring the 'Luke Debt Level' down a bit so I could disappear somewhere and have some time out.

  Chase walked through the door of the training room, and stopped when he saw me.

  "I've been looking for you everywhere," he said, crossing the room towards me.

  I didn't want him to see me like this. I was all red faced, puffy, and my body was soaked in sweat. I needed to hit the shower, and wash all of the negativity off me.

  But that wasn't going to happen.

  Chase sat down beside me. He was wearing long shorts, and a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up which showed his tanned forearms. He obviously had contacts in, and his hair looked as though it had been a bit compressed by a hat. I mentally licked my lips as I looked back at his muscly forearms, one of which was sporting a Rolex. I closed my eyes.

  "What?" I mumbled. "What do you want?"

  "It's just you and me here tonight. Gabe is off to meet with Carmen again... seems she likes him." Chase laughed. "And River is tracking Alicio Mendoza for me."

  Poor Gabe. "Ugh," I said, opening my eyes and rising up on my elbows. "You do realise that she's going to try her best to sleep with Gabe, don't you?"

  Chase shrugged. "Yeah. Probably. But we’ve all slept with people we didn't want to for the sake of the job. Besides... if Carmen is occupied with him, then she's not thinking about you, now, is she?"

  I stayed silent. He had a point.

  Chase got to his feet, and extended a hand to me. "So, my lady, what would you like for dinner?"

  * * *

  When I walked out of my bedroom, after having a long shower and scrubbing all signs of stress and exertion from my body, I found the dining room lit up like something out of a fairy tale. Candles were everywhere, the fireplace was blazing away, and chilled wine sat on the table with two glasses ready. There were two places set with silver cutlery, and linen napkins.

  I turned to find Chase leaning against the doorframe, confidently smiling at me.

  "Is this some sort of special occasion?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "Not really. Some days just need it though, right?" He held a finger up in the air. "Be right back."

  I nodded, turning back to survey the room. He'd obviously gone to a lot of effort. The ambience was gorgeous. I never could have pulled off anything like this in my house in England. I didn't have near the amount of candle holders, nor a real dining room. And my silver cutlery was badly in need of a polish.

  Chase nudged my arm when he came back in, and handed me an icy margarita. "River said you're quite partial to these." He smiled.

  "Thanks," I murmured, taking a sip. Icy coolness mixed with the tang of lemon, tequila, and salt slithered down my throat, and I smiled, savouring the taste.

  "Good?"

  I laughed. "Yes. But seriously." I waved my hand around the room. "I feel underdressed for this," I commented, looking down at my lightweight wrap dress and bare feet.

  "Not at all," Chase said warmly. "I told you - this isn't a special occasion, I just wanted to have a little fun."

  This is what he classed as fun? New light started to dawn on me as I considered him. "Well, it's certainly something."

  "Just relax, Mack. Please. We have the night to ourselves. No jobs, no other stressors, really. And we are both in good company." He eyed me suspiciously. "I think?"

  I couldn't help it, I laughed. I pushed away any thoughts of Luke or Carmen, or even Alvarez from my mind, and hit Chase playfully on the arm. "Good company, indeed."

  "Good. Now, go and have a cigarette or something. Dinner is about an hour away. Sit down, put your feet up, and relax a little. I'm going to put on some music, and enjoy my drink."

  He walked from the dining room into the living area, and fiddled with the sound system. Chase was so confident in any environment.

  I couldn't help but compare Gabe, Chase, and River to Luke. Luke was an uptight, constantly strung-out workaholic, who had always obsessed about money. Really, it shouldn't be a surprise that he was being a prick about me paying him out. For all I knew he’d probably kept a spreadsheet about how much I had spent over the years while he was the main income earner.

  I lit a cigarette and stepped outside onto the terrace. Luke had always come home to a clean and loving house though, not to mention most of the time he had home cooked meals made by yours truly. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to keep me. But obviously he preferred to keep Nicole more.

  When it came to River, Chase, and Gabe - they were all so different in comparison. They lived well, killed well, and they relaxed in the moments when they could. Like now, with Chase.

  I heard music start up in the living area, and Chase stepped out into the night air with me, carrying both of our drinks. The music was more up my alley than the jazzy Latino stuff he was playing earlier. I felt myself starting to move a bit to the music, and Chase laughed.

  "I knew you were a partier from way back," he mused as he eyed me.

  I smiled, and licked my lips. "I was known to visit places like Ibiza in my youth. But to be honest, I prefer my own company. Doesn't mean I don't listen to music though," I added.

  "Yeah?" Chase chuckled. "Tell me, what’s your favourite music?"

  "Drum and Bass," I said without missing a beat. Surprise filled Chase's features, and I laughed. "Don't act so shocked! You'd be surprised to discover how much writing and research can be done with music playing. I love it."

  "You're right, I would be surprised. You are an anomaly, Mack."

  I shook my head. "No. I'm just plain old boring. No anomaly here." I stubbed my cigarette out, and Chase took my hand, leading me back inside. My nerves tripped and stumbled over themselves, as he led me to the sofa, his leg brushing against mine as we sat.

  "Actually, I beg to differ," he stated. "There is nothing boring or plain about you. Why do you think we asked you out here?"

  I shrugged. "I was a good distraction?"

  He threw back his head and laughed. "No. No, that's not it." He chuckled some more, and then leaned forward and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. I stilled, breath hitched, and stared at him. "It was because River saw a rare fire in you. There you were, trying to make ends meet, any way you could, and you were prepared to put yourself out there. While you couldn’t see it for yourself, we could."

  He was sitting close to me, and I didn't know what to make of him. "Really?"

  Chase nodded. "Yes. River saw it, I saw it, and Gabe saw it. There is something special about you. And look at you now. You are lovely and tall, your skin is getting a bit of sun - as opposed to all of that conditioned air and artificial light you've been under for years, and you no longer hide behind your glasses."

  I shrugged off his comments. "I'm an historian, Chase, I’m supposed to be like that."

  He leaned back, and relaxed into the sofa cushions. "Not all people are cut out to be stereotypes." He took a sip of his drink, looking thoughtful, and then turned his piercing blue gaze to lock with mine.

  I stared at him. I didn't know what to say in response. "And on that note," he said after a few moments of silence, "I need to go check on dinner."

  I watched as he stood and made his way to the kitchen. I'd come to realise that Chase was nothing like I had imagined. I had always been a bit wary of his smooth good looks and persona, but now, I wasn't so much.

  There was a lot more depth to this man whom I hardly knew. A deeper level of loyalty than I guessed was there. I had the impression when I first met him that he was all about business, and nothing else. It couldn't be further from the truth though. He was sensitive, had built his business from the ground up, and he had lost a lot in his life. If anyone was going to understand my situation, it was Chase.

  I drained my margarita, and ne
stled back into the soft cushions of the sofa, closing my eyes. This truly was relaxing. Dinner being cooked, I was being plied with booze, and then there was the company. My stomach somersaulted, and I smiled.

  I realised I actually liked Chase.

  Nothing would ever happen between us though. Especially not at the moment; I was running from a mad woman, and had my own issues to deal with - Luke in particular. There was no way I could even entertain the idea of getting into a relationship at the moment. Ugh. And apparently Alvarez needed dealing with as well.

  Chase sat back down, the movement caused me to open my eyes and watch him. He held out a wrapped present to me.

  "For you," he stated.

  I gave him a wary look. "What on earth for? It's not my birthday."

  Chase grinned. "Go on … open it."

  I sat up properly, and started to undo the yellow ribbon. When that fell away, I carefully undid the purple wrapping paper. Peeling back the paper, I saw a cheery oak box with the Apple logo on it. "Oh my god," I muttered. "You didn't."

  "I did." He laughed. "And it's all yours. Latest generation iPhone 5. A Gold Elite."

  I almost choked as I opened the box and pulled the phone out. "Oh my god, Chase, this is 24 carat gold." I turned the phone over in my hands. "What on earth compelled you to get me this?"

  He shrugged. "I got it as a replacement for your phone while I was in the States. Gabe cloned your old phone, so it's already loaded with all your apps, contacts, music and photos.” He ran his hand through his hair almost nervously. “They didn’t have a bullet-proof model in stock, so I went for the gold one instead. So… do you like it?”

  Then I did something completely unlike me. I threw myself on him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and I kissed him. I pulled back. "Thank you." I stilled at the closeness of us, and then realised what I'd done. Chase was rigid as he stared at me. I started to move off him, mumbling. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."