Dark Hunter

by AJ Adams

  “You’re a goddamn fool, Mitch,” Morgan said calmly. “You may be a ruthless bastard, but I’ve forgotten more about the cartel than you’ll ever know.”

  Morgan wasn’t afraid. She knew something we didn’t. We were all riveted. She held centre stage.

  “I walked into this with my eyes open,” Morgan said. “I knew my coming here wouldn’t save Emma or Lucy. And yet here I am. You should all be asking why.”

  “Why?” Don Valentine frowned.

  “She’s stalling for time,” Mitch snapped.

  “Let’s beat her. Slowly.” Neto giggled.

  Morgan dug in her pocket and held out her phone. “Remember the Los Osos warehouse?”

  As my girl pressed the dial button, we were throwing ourselves backwards. Taking Emma and Lucy with us, we tumbled over the sofa, using it as cover as the SuperLow exploded.

  There was a roar and then a hail of rubble and broken glass. But no flame and no raging fire. On the far side of the sofa, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a grin. “Rip, this is where we take over.”

  Don Valentine’s bodyguards were face down on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Neto was out as well, with a great big gash on the back of his head and neck oozing gore. The Gulf boss was on his hands and knees, battered and bruised, but his men had shielded him from the worst of it.

  Cortez, his face ripped by glass shards, was on his feet. “Kill you.” Like a fairytale horror, he was aiming his gun at my girl.

  I just went for him. I was knocking up his hand as it went off. The deafening blast rocked both of us, but the bullet went wide. “Missed!” I laughed. “And now I kill you.”

  He tried to punch me, but it was no good. I was fighting for Morgan, and I was going to end him.

  “Want to play?” He was helpless in the face of my fury. I forced his hand back and felt his wrist snap. His squeal of pain and fear fuelled me. I was laughing as I punched him down.

  He passed out on me two seconds later. “Bugger! Hey, wake up, you big girl’s blouse.”

  “Rip,” Morgan was standing over a groaning Don Valentine, a broken chair leg in her hand. From the rapidly swelling knot on his head, she’d encouraged him to stay down. “You’re scaring Emma and Lucy.”

  Her friends were clutching at each other, pale with terror.

  “Tell them not to look.”

  As Morgan opened her mouth to argue, there was a rush of sound. The trees outside swayed and the door that was hanging off its hinges, fell off. As the whoop-whoop-whoop strafed the air, I saw a chopper landing in front of the house.

  The Zetas poured out, swarming round the front and back and back of the house, in military style. The giant figure in black leading them was instantly recognizable.

  “The cavalry is here,” Morgan said. “Good. Rip, don’t kill Mitch.”

  Kyle was standing in the doorway. “You said drop in,” he grinned.

  Chumillo was looking in through the shattered window, a machine gun in his hands. “We came to rescue you,” he laughed. “Looks like we’re not needed.”

  “We do need you,” Morgan said. “Chumillo, is the Cayenne in one piece?”

  He ducked out and back in seconds. “Si, guapa.”

  Morgan put her arms around Emma and Lucy. “Take the SUV,” she told them. “Go home and don’t worry, I will fix this.”

  As she led them out, Kyle was giving me stink-eye. “You hit me when I wasn’t looking.”

  “Surely you didn’t expect me to play fair?”

  He grinned at me. “I was going to hammer the message home, but it looks like someone already had a go. You look like shit.”

  “Charming!”

  Cortez was moaning, coming round again. I kicked him lightly.

  “Rip,” Morgan was back. “Stop messing about.”

  “You’re dead,” Don Valentine was struggling to his feet. Apart from the rapidly spreading bruise on his face, he was bleeding from a dozen small cuts. “You can kill me,” he sneered at Kyle. “But my people will avenge me.”

  “Bring it on,” Kyle and I chorused.

  “Nobody is killing anybody,” Morgan snapped. “I’m ending this right now.”

  “We should shoot the capullos,” Chumillo protested.

  “No, we don’t want another war,” Morgan pointed out. “We all lose in an all-out war.”

  “Not if you win,” Kyle rumbled. “But this is your party,” he went on politely. “You were saying?”

  Morgan was eyeing the Gulf boss. “You fucked up royally,” she informed him. “Your own men hate you for promoting this Hollywood wannabe over them, your friends the Sinaloa are pissed, and on top of it, you lost the territory I handed to you.”

  Don Valentine was fuming but he kept silent.

  “My father was loyal to you, and for his sake I will once more save your ass,” Morgan drawled.

  At that, the cartel boss was staring at her. “On what terms?”

  “You drop the contract you put out on me,” Morgan said.

  He nodded. “It’s done.”

  “You stay away from my friends. No taking revenge on the girls, Roberto, Tim or Jake.”

  “I agree.”

  “You can keep Dawson Heights, but I’m taking Templado.”

  “You can’t do that!” Mitch was struggling to his knees and whining.

  “I gave it to you, and now I’m taking it away.” Morgan was pure ice.

  “Shut up, Cortez,” Don Valentine wasn’t even looking at his best sidekick. His total attention was on Morgan. “What else?”

  “You also keep Neto.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “You value money over loyalty, so keeping your revenue stream should make you happy.”

  On the floor, the chemist was stirring. It was a shame; I’d been hoping the blast had killed him. Sadly, he had the survival skills of a cockroach.

  “But Neto raped your sister,” Chumillo exclaimed. “It’s your right to kill him.”

  “I’m giving up my claim,” Morgan said quietly. “I’ll also make sure that Emma and Lucy won’t lay charges against Don Valentine for kidnapping.”

  The Gulf boss gasped. Even the cartel have trouble beating a Federal rap. “Done,” he said quickly. Then grudgingly, “It’s a pity we fell out, chica. You’re just like your father.”

  “I never said a word against you,” Morgan shrugged. “Mitch was angry at me for turning him down. He decided screwing me was more important than looking after business.” She looked over at her ex. “I give up my right to kill him too.”

  “Wait a minute,” Don Valentine glared at Mitch. “He said you were spreading it everywhere that I had let you down and screwed you out of your compensation too. He swore it to me! You’re saying he lied?”

  “Mitch is more slippery than a pocket full of pudding,” Morgan sighed. “He’s after one thing: power.”

  Don Valentine was fuming. “I backed you up,” he hissed at his lieutenant. “I guess the others were right. You can’t trust new blood.”

  Mitch went white. In the cartel, lying to the boss is a no-no.

  “But Morgan—” I couldn’t help myself.

  “No, Rip.” Her eyes were steel. “It stops here.”

  “Okay, okay. If you insist.”

  “Deal?” Morgan asked the Gulf boss.

  “Deal,” Don Valentine agreed.

  At that, I was worried. The man was bound to go back on his word the moment we were gone, especially when he discovered that Templado was the key to casino goodness.

  But Morgan wasn’t done. “You know what Rip is capable of, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Don Valentine sounded cool, but his eyes were flickering nervously towards me.

  “It took Navarro all night to die,” Morgan reminded him. “I hear that Pastor, Burton, Martinez, Smith, and the others went screaming too.”

  Don Valentine was silent, but we all saw he was afraid. When I stared at him, he actually dropped his eyes.

  “One hint of trouble, and I tell Ri
p he can party,” Morgan warned him. “He’ll take down your men, your family, and when you’re all alone in the dark of the night, he’ll come for you.”

  “You have a deal,” Don Valentine said shakily.

  It was over. Morgan was free, and we were walking away.

  Kyle was looking at his phone. “Cops are on their way.”

  “Let’s go,” Morgan said. “We don’t want the Bratva ambushing us. And Rip needs to see the cockroach.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I can see that,” Morgan smiled. “You’re looking absolutely spiffing.”

  Unfortunately it made me laugh, and it hurt like hell.

  “I take it back,” Morgan was shaking her head. “You look like you’ve been chewed, spat out, and stomped on.” She put an arm around me, propping me up carefully. “Lean on me, sweetheart.”

  The bling pig was making moves too. “I’m out of here.” Then, with a nasty look at Mitch. “I’ll take Neto, he’s an asset. You can deal with this.”

  With no cartel to wave a magic wand and three unconscious men on the ground, Mitch was going to have a hell of a time explaining himself.

  As we stepped out through the smashed door and field of rubble, Morgan smiled at me, “I think it’s going splendidly, don’t you?”

  We took the chopper home.

  Chapter Thirty: Morgan

  The mansion was brimming with people. The jefe was having one of his famous dinners.

  “Rip! Morgan!” We got hugs. “You made it!”

  All around us people were watching. Eduardo was there, beady-eyed with anger as always but scraping respectfully at me and very careful to avoid looking Rip in the eye. As Arturo embraced us, his shoulders slumped with disappointment. We were in favour.

  As we walked up to pay our respects, Solitaire was up and hugging me. “Morgan, we were so worried about you. Welcome home, love.” Then she turned to Rip, purple eyes speculative. To my amazement he got a hug too. A careful one. “Rip, you look like the walking dead.”

  “I thought my scars made me look like a rather dashing pirate.”

  She was smiling at him with real warmth. “We heard all about it. You’re a hero, Rip.”

  “Am I?” He was laughing at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll soon upset you again, and you can go back to despising me.”

  I shut my eyes, waiting for her to blast him, but to my surprise, she giggled. “You’d cause a fight in an empty room.”

  All around us the Zetas were grinning. I’d told Chumillo about the beating, cried over it, actually, and I guess he’d told everyone else. Now they all knew how brave Rip was, he could do no wrong. It was a huge relief.

  “The doc said you had a dozen stitches and three cracked ribs,” Arturo was patting him carefully on the shoulder. “You’ve got panda eyes too.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Just like my little brother,” Arturo sighed. “Chips off the same block.”

  “Jefe, there’s no need to be rude.”

  Kyle grinned. “When you get better, I’m going to beat the fuck out of you.”

  “And you know what, I’d let you. Thanks for the backup.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Kyle said politely.

  Arturo was laughing. “Ohmigod! I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  As if some secret signal, the crowd surged away and we were left at the jefe’s table with the senior Zetas. Unusually, Solitaire sat down and pulled me into a seat too. “Sit down, love. Arturo wants a word with you.”

  I knew we were in favour, but even so, I was trembling. This was going to be tricky.

  The jefe lowered his voice, saying quietly, “Don Valentine has pulled all his men out of Templado. I understand you made a deal with him and that there will be no attempt to take the territory back?”

  “Yes, sir. He had no idea what he was giving up, but even when he hears of the casino project, he’ll decide it’s not worth going back on his word.”

  “You think?”

  “He’s got trouble at home, he’s short of men, and he’s truly terrified of Rip coming after him.”

  Arturo frowned. “Even so, it might’ve been safer just to shoot him.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed, “but a defeated enemy is a better neighbour than an unknown force.”

  At that, the jefe was nodding. “You are your father’s daughter.”

  “And loyal to you,” I replied promptly.

  At that, he was smiling. “Chica, what about your ex?”

  “He’s assisting the authorities with their enquiries, as Rip puts it. As it was just damage to his own home, and the bodyguards all recovered, he’s probably off the hook.”

  Arturo frowned. “You gave up your claim, but if you want him iced, just say the word.”

  “Thank you, sir, but no. Being out of the cartel is punishment enough.”

  “You’re generous,” he sighed. “I would have wanted his balls for bolas.”

  “That bomb was interesting,” Solitaire mused. “However did you make it? And why didn’t the house go up in flames?”

  “It was just a few household chemicals. It was only supposed to blow up the bike and provide a distraction.”

  “A distraction,” Solitaire said faintly. “Really.”

  “Well, yes. That’s why I parked it against the wall.” I could see she didn’t understand. “It directed the blast away from everyone inside. It was no more than a big firecracker.”

  Solitaire shook her head. “Some firecracker.”

  “That’s Morgan,” Rip smiled. “She thinks anything less than a four-storey building going up in flames is child’s play.”

  “I didn’t want to kill anyone,” I repeated. “I just wanted a distraction so I could bash Mitch and set the girls free. My plan was to run like hell.”

  “Instead of which, I walked in and ruined it,” Rip said ruefully.

  “Hey! What’s with all the drama?” Arturo laughed. “It’s all worked out well. At least I got everything I wanted.”

  I had to laugh. Unlike Don Valentine who didn’t care who got hurt, the Zeta leader had a heart.

  When we’d come home, I’d expected to see the cockroach. Instead, the chopper dropped us off at a private hospital. Rip had been ensconced in a suite, tended to by an amazing doctor called Bautista, and there hadn’t been a bill.

  When we’d gone home, the jefe had called twice a day, personally, just to check on Rip. It warmed my heart, and although I’d probably never stop being a little bit nervous around the cartel boss, I was grateful and well on my way to liking him.

  “We were lucky,” Solitaire scolded. “You could’ve been killed, Morgan.”

  “No chance of that,” Chumillo laughed. “She had them all tied up in knots. You should’ve seen them!”

  Rafa was opening champagne. “We needn’t have gone at all. She had it all wrapped up.”

  The Zetas were in a party mood. Me, I still couldn’t believe we’d made it. In the fortnight we’d been back, I’d wondered constantly if I were dreaming.

  “Will your friends be all right?” Solitaire asked.

  “Yes,” my heart skipped a beat as I told her. “They were frightened but unharmed.”

  “You must invite them over and bring them for dinner,” Solitaire said.

  “Thank you, jefa.” I agreed to be polite but there was little chance of that happening. They might go to a holiday resort, maybe, but they’d be petrified to find themselves in cartel headquarters. “It’s kind, considering the trouble we’re causing you.”

  Although Don Valentine had called off the troops, the Bratva had turned up, hoping to get to Rip. They had been dealt with but there was little doubt in my mind they were still plotting.

  As it was, the opening gave me a chance to make my pitch. “Jefe,” I said respectfully. “Now the Bratva know where Rip is, they’ll dog him,” I pointed out. “His secret identity is gone too.”

  It was true. Rumour had sped out of Dawson Heights
at the speed of light. Everyone knew now what his work had been and what it had done for the Zetas. Hence Eduardo’s careful avoidance and the curious if fearful looks.

  “It’s too dangerous for Rip to go hunting,” I pointed out. “Even if the Bratva go home, the Gulf and the Sinaloa will be watching. They won’t be fooled again.”

  “That was my conclusion too,” Arturo sighed. “Oh well, it was great while it lasted.”

  And just like that, Rip was free.

  “I’m sorry, jefe,” I said quietly. “But Rip has delivered more in six months than some of your other people do in a lifetime.”

  I could see Rip staring at me, his mouth open with surprise. In the time we’d been back, I’d insisted he take it easy. He’d been exhausted, and despite his protests the beating had been a bad one, so we hadn’t spoken of our future.

  Now he was free but worrying that it meant we’d have to move on. “But Morgan—” he started.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” I pleaded. “And we’ve made our home here.”

  Arturo was frowning. “But chica, what are you saying?”

  “Sir, I am asking your permission to stay.”

  All around us, the senior staff were gawping. “Stay?” Arturo asked surprised.

  “Sir, just being in your territory give us protection,” I pleaded. “If we leave here, we’ll be helpless.”

  “Or course you’re staying!” Arturo was shocked. “For God’s sake, Morgan. Rip saved my life, remember? I owe him. As for you, you negotiated for us with Don Valentine as if you were a Zeta. I owe you too!”

  Now it was my turn to be taken aback. “Really?”

  “Think, chica,” Kyle rumbled. “Rip cleared the way for us, but it’s not like we can just walk in and take over. When we cleaned up Modesto, I had three men down with broken bones, and I got stabbed.”

  All my life in the cartel, and that hadn’t occurred to me. “Oh.”

  “Because of you, Don Valentine walked away,” Arturo reminded me. “You saved us weeks of work.” He was grinning again. “They approved plans for the casino today.”

  No wonder the Zetas were ready to party. They’d make millions.

  “You’re certain you don’t mind us staying?” Rip was totally taken aback.