by Bex Dane
***
Falcon woke me up with his mouth between my legs. I had my first orgasm before becoming fully conscious. We had mind blowing sex, me on my knees, him pressed up to my backside. His fingers brought me through another orgasm before he grunted into my neck, and his hand around my belly slammed me down hard on his cock. My head fell back onto his shoulder, and he caressed my breasts over my silk nightgown.
"Mornin'," his gravelly voice rasped in my ear.
"Mmm. Lovely morning." He folded us at the waist and somehow managed to get us lying side by side without losing our connection. "What a way to wake up." Blissed out, happy from lots of great sex, held safe in the massive arms of a sexy guy.
He kissed my neck and ran his hand up and down my side. He started to get hard again inside me. Maybe he wanted to go another round. I'd be up for it, but I felt the loss of him as he pulled out. "Gotta go to Boston."
My warm fuzzies turned into cold empty fizzles. "Why?"
"Gonna meet with Rogan and a couple guys with dirt on Ivan."
"Oh."
"See what they've got. Make plans to end this."
I turned in his arms and looked him in the eye. "Killing Ivan won't save the girls he's already sold. There's thousands of pimps in his network."
He stood and stared down at me. "I know that, but taking him out is key to stopping the flow of girls into the system. The abductions end if there's no one to fund them."
"It's a start."
His nostrils flared as he scowled. "Jesus. Killing the king of a small country is not a start. It's the end. You know how hard it's going to be to get to him? The logistics and legal implications alone are impossible."
"That's what I'm saying. There's no time to stop it at the top. We have to work from the street level. Every woman I rescue is required to volunteer for the shelter. I have thousands of advocates ready to help."
"We," he pointed at me, "don't have to do anything. You and those women are not working the street anymore."
Who was he to dictate to me that I should give up all my hard work? I was making a difference. What was he doing? "What about the girls I haven't saved yet? What about their families who are searching for them?"
"You are a fucking singer. Not God. You can't solve the problem of human trafficking. It's huge. Millions of women all over the world. The best we can do is get rid of Ivan and disrupt his network. Now, you wanna give me shit about that, I'll skip it and get back to killing my own assholes. I don't mind dropping this scam. Would be much more fulfilling to kill my father right now than spend months seeking out the corrupt king of some former Russian country."
Uh oh. Now I'd pissed him off so bad he wanted to give up on Ivan. I had to be nice if I wanted his help.
"No. Please don't give up on me. Whatever you can do, I appreciate. Taking Ivan down would be a huge win."
"Fine. I'll see what I can do about Ivan if you promise to stop the vigilante crap."
"I already said I would."
"But I don't trust you, and I'm leaving. Won't be able to keep an eye on you."
There it was. He didn't trust me. He thought he needed to babysit me.
"I promise no more rescues. I have to concentrate on this performance anyway."
"Good." He kept staring at me. Both of us naked. He'd won. I'd agreed to everything he'd said and he still held onto his anger.
"So you'll be gone for a long time?" I asked to change the subject.
"Possibly. Blaze will take over your security detail. Rogan is sending two guys to replace me here."
He'd already made arrangements? He certainly didn't act like he was planning to leave last night when he'd flirted with me over lasagna and definitely not just now as we'd had sex. "It takes two men to replace you?"
"I've been giving you special treatment. Normal bodyguards get some down time." I never asked him to treat me differently than anyone else.
"I see. Well, goodbye then." I turned away from him, raising my shoulder to hide my face.
He stayed quiet for a minute. His gaze burned into my back. I wanted to scream get out but I held my tongue.
Finally he spoke. "You're not getting attached, are you?" The acid in his voice scratched my skin like a wire broom across my back. "It's an arrangement. Temporary."
God, his tone implied I was a weakling out of control.
"Of course not." Asshole. That's what this was about? He was afraid I was getting attached?
I rolled over to watch him stomp naked to the bathroom. The toilet flushed and he came back, pulling up his pants. His beautiful dick flipped inside as he zipped up. "This is why I never do this. I never fuck the same woman twice. Never fuck available women. They get attached. Women are not capable of having sex without adding all kinds of false emotion to it. They make shit up that isn't there."
I may have been doing that. His touch seemed so affectionate. He acted like he was into me. But I blew it. Again. Got involved with a self-centered jerk who would break my heart. I was safer with Thorne and my dildos. "Fuck you, Falcon."
"Admit it. You've lost control. You're having dreams about you and me pledging eternal love and making babies." He said babies with a sneer. I didn't like this ugly side of Falcon. He was better when he stayed silent and brooding.
"I'm not. I'm dreaming of my new show and winning awards for my work. The last thing I want is to get knocked up by some dickhead douchenozzle."
His jaw clenched, but his eyes laughed at my name calling. Screw him.
"Good." He grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his head. "Don't dream about me. Don't get ideas. It's not gonna happen."
I'd had enough. I sat up in bed, holding the sheet over my chest. "I am Aida Soltari." I used my superior diva voice. "Solitary. No stupid man to bring me down or hold me back. I have always been alone."
He propped his hands on his hips and popped one knee out. "You are Magdalena Esperanza. A fake and a manipulator."
Oh really? Fucking really? He wanted to fight? "You are Primitivo de la Cruz. Serial killer." I spat the last two words at him.
His eyes flashed and he leaned in, planting his fists in the bed on either side of me. "Daughter of a whore and a john."
Oh now. Fuck him. I would not bend to his insults. I had my own to retort. "First son of a genocidal narco boss."
He flinched and backed away from me. His teeth came out and bit his lower lip. His hands twitched. He looked like his father then. The machismo dictator of Northern Mexico that slaughtered innocent people without remorse.
Falcon forced his arms back with a growl. I raised my chin. Fine. Let him hit me. See how he liked the consequences. I'd report him for abuse and have him arrested for murdering Manuel.
His eyes narrowed on me. "Change in plans. I'm not going after Ivan for you. I'm off this case and not coming back."
Oh, who was manipulating now? He knew I couldn't take down Ivan without him. "Who cares? You couldn't even find my mother! It took you twenty-two years to kill Manuel. I don't have the time to wait for you to get to Ivan." A low blow, but he'd pushed me over the edge.
His face turned red, and his eyes glinted. "Has anything happened to you since I've been on this case?"
Well, not really. "Nothing except for the threatening email."
"Exactly. I know what I'm doing. Do not doubt me."
He'd said that before. He hated being questioned, but he'd pissed me off so I kept fighting. "It's a mere coincidence nothing happened in the time you were here."
He nodded his head, and the heat left his eyes. Only cold dark hardness remained. "Right. Then it'll also be a coincidence when I'm gone and you get your delusional head blown off."
He turned and stuffed his gun in his hip holster.
"Fine. Leave. I don't care. But you are going to miss me."
He laughed and marched to the door.
"I'm not the one getting attached, Falcon. Think about it. Why are you really huffing and puffing around the room?"
He sneered at me. "Goodbye, Aida."
"You're breaking your own heart."
"I don't have a heart." He slammed the door behind him with a big gust of air.
Oh my God. Why did I let him in my life? In my bed? Always the fool. Always the loser. Always solitary.
The tears pricked the back of my eyelids. No. I wouldn't shed a tear for him. It was my own fault. I trusted him knowing who he was. He grew up in a ruthless crime family. He had no respect for human life or women's dignity. I'd never make that mistake again.
I lasted about a minute. The dust settled. The wind blew and rattled the windows. I grabbed my pillow and cried.
Never again. Never trust a man again.
Especially not Primitivo de la Cruz.
Chapter 17
Falcon
Sitting on my Harley, outside a motel in Austin, Texas, I watched her belt out "Ya Te Olividé" on a late night talk show. I'd watched it at least thirty times already.
She wore a long black and white dress with tight fabric that glistened and wrapped up her curves like snakeskin. A huge slit up the side revealed her leg to the top of her sensuous thigh.
The tiny black triangle of her thong showed through her dress when the light hit it from behind. Every time. Every time she went on stage, that triangle showed through. She had to know. She had to be doing it on purpose.
The dress covered her nipples and tied around her neck, but side-boob was on full display. No bra, her breasts looked fantastic.
The musical in Los Angeles wrapped up last night. After this late night performance, she had a break until her next gig at the Met. She had chosen to stay in the house in LA with Thorne until she had to leave. She liked it there. Of course she did. Hollywood was a utopian make believe where she could pretend her problems didn't exist.
Since no physical threats had appeared since we'd been there, I'd allowed it.
Thick black eyeliner and silver makeup around her eyes made her look vulnerable and on the verge of tears. But as the song built, she grew strong and confident. Long earrings swaying. Her mouth open wide like when she blew me. Hot as hell. A woman scorned. No one else could own that song like her. She sold it, and the audience ate it up. She strutted her ass around the stage like a queen, her right fist up above her head, left hand gripping the microphone. Thorne's ring shone on her finger.
Her gaze drilled in on the camera.
At me.
I've already forgotten you.
With the last note, her voice broke in a weak whisper. She dropped her head, bangs falling into her face. Despair eating her up.
Her act.
Or was it?
After the way I left it, I had to own it. I caused her this pain. I hit her where it hurts the most. I used her past against her as a weapon. That made me a bastard.
Even though I'd warned her, a woman like her could never have sex without emotion. No. Only a mountain of intense passion and desire. She gave it to me every time—even the first time—like she loved me. Or she wanted to.
Fuck me if I didn't get off on it.
But I let it go too far. I had to leave before it got messy, but it was a tough pill to swallow watching her sing a song to me while she stood there crying, half naked on stage.
A text came in on my burner phone. My father. He'd contacted me via Rogan a week ago.
El diablo: Tomorrow 8pm Tunnel 6
My father had seen me at the Latin Choice Awards with Aida. He hadn't said whether he'd recognized her or not. He'd only said he'd seen me and wanted a meet.
Now he'd set the time and place. Tomorrow night in the tunnels I helped him to dig. Men had died in those tunnels from lack of oxygen or the walls caving in. They'd also died by execution. If Guillermo de la Cruz took you down into the tunnels, say goodbye to your momma because you weren't coming back
I wasn't sure what his motives were, but I could guess. He wanted his money back.
If he killed me, he'd never get it.
If he let me live, he'd never get it.
But I took the meet anyway.
Time to reunite with dear old Dad.
***
In one hand, I carried a flashlight. In the other, my Sig.
Helix tracked me in the shadows. I brought him as my backup because I couldn't ask Rogan to provide a man to follow me into the belly of the whale. Helix was a bounty hunter who trailed Torrez awhile back. Somewhere along the line, he became an ally, so I chose him to go with me tonight.
As I bent under low sections of tunnel six, the air became thin. I stopped a few meters away from four men I once knew. Not anymore.
My father, two of my brothers, and my cousin. The first time we'd been face-to-face in twenty-two years.
He'd brought them to challenge me. Daring me to kill my own family like I did the night I'd betrayed him. They also stood as a symbol of the family I lost. They still had each other while I had nothing. I chose to walk away.
I stood by that decision. I'd rather be alone than be part of evil.
My brothers' faces had aged poorly. Wrinkles, hunched backs. They held new rifles in their grip. Not the old AK-47s we learned to fight with as children.
"I'm surprised you showed up, Primitivo." My father spoke his first words to my face since I was eighteen years old. The last ones had been the order to kill Manuel's women. The order I did not follow. His face had fallen and sagged. His belly had grown rounder, but his eyes had not changed. Cold and black.
"Why would I not?"
"You aren't afraid I will exact revenge for the killings of your brother, Manuel, and all the men you've been taking out over the years?"
Ah, so he did know it was me. "No idea what you're talking about."
"Why did you come?" he asked.
Why did I come? Because I'd been fighting the same quixotic battle for far too long. Time for a change. Either he died or I died, but the vendetta would end. "I had nothing else to do. What do you want?"
"I want Claudia."
I had expected him to say money. I assumed he knew I had stolen his fortune. When Manuel died, his last source of income would have dried up. He had to be hurting.
Claudia's name spoken by him shocked me and made my skin crawl. "Claudia? I don't know where she is. I thought Manuel had her."
"Manuel sold her years ago."
"To who?"
"A Russian. Don't know his name."
"I'm sure you don't."
"I saw you with her daughter on TV. Magdalena is a famous singer."
Anger roiled in my gut and I spoke through clenched teeth. "Keep your hands off her."
"If Claudia is dead, Lena is all I have left of her."
Fuck no. This was not happening. "Magdalena is not your daughter. Claudia came to Nuevo Laredo with her. You can't be the father."
"No, but I loved her. And I loved her girl like the daughter I never had."
"Bullshit. The way you treated Claudia, you didn't love her and you would've done the same to Magdalena."
"Please, Tivo. I'd like to see Lena."
"No way in hell." And don't fucking call her Lena.
"I want to make amends with her."
No. He knew she had money as a celebrity and he wanted it. I had to stop this now. Even if it meant confessing to my father. "If you stay away from her, I'll give you all your money back."
His eyes blew wide and a smirk grew on his thin lips. "My money? You took it from me? I thought it might have been you, but I told myself my oldest son would never betray me like that. Now you confirm you are a traitor. God will strike you down."
"Stay away from Magdalena, and I'll wire it to you in chunks."
His empty hands came forward and pleaded with me. "You must believe I wanted to meet Lena and I wanted to make amends."
"I don't give a shit what you say you want. This is what I'm offering. You stay away from her and you die a rich man. My brothers and cousin behind you will get the money when you die."
He squinted and looked behind me in the tunnel. "How can I trust you?"
His eyes held doubt and mistrust. All we'd ever had between us.
He turned to speak to my brothers and my cousin. After a minute, they broke and faced me. They smirked and their eyes glowed. Oh shit.
"We don't make deals with traitors," my father said with his chin raised.
"Bullshit." He'd teamed up with Manuel. Traitors make vicious soldiers. But I knew where he was going with this.
"If you fight your brothers and your cousin, your betrayal is not forgotten. You killed Oscar and robbed from your family. This does not erase anything. But you have paid your penance, we will call a truce."
A man like him never honored a truce if it didn't meet his agenda. "For the rest of her life, you never come near Magdalena. I see your face, catch even a scent of any one of you, the money stops and I come back and kill you all." I pegged each of my brothers and my cousin with my gaze. Before they exacted their unfair penance on me, they needed to see the threat in my eyes. "Keep your word or die at my hands."
"If you survive, Primitivo, we have a deal." My father's voice sounded genuinely sad. I knew better than to fall for it.
My training kicked in automatically. Multiple attackers. If you can't run, separate and disable one at a time. No hesitation. Short, quick, efficient punches.
Adrenaline zipped through my every vein like burning whiskey. I could take them all on and win. They may have me outnumbered, but they never advanced beyond street fighting. I could take them with cunning and resourcefulness.
My muscles hummed, guard came up, and chin tilted down. Let's go.
My father nodded at his second oldest, Hugo.
I didn't see him as my closest younger brother. I only saw a threat to be neutralized. "C'mon, asshole."
I dropped into a shoulder roll and nailed him with a fierce groin kick. He doubled over in pain.
The other two came at me as I popped up. I maneuvered one into a headlock and lined them up using the first one as a shield. I kneed Juan Carlo in the face, but Alex caught my foot and twisted, forcing me to the ground.
He jumped on top of me. We wrestled for a second, but I couldn't shake him. When Juan Carlo and Hugo recovered and joined Alex on top of me, all I could do was duck and cover and pray like fuck the fight had taken some of their energy. But I knew better. These guys would kick me all night if my father allowed it.
