Two months ago.
There was proof of life of her brother… two fucking months ago.
The second investigator had a little more information. A picture of Nicholas around the same time, stumbling down an alleyway. His hands bound behind his back. Necessary information on him, like his last whereabouts and even a chunk of video surveillance footage from a month and a half ago. It showed Nicholas being pushed back out of the same alleyway and into another beat-up car before everyone drove off.
But other than the investigator’s obvious conclusion that the cartel was involved, there was nothing. The proof of life was months’ old, the pictures and the video were of some generic dilapidated brick building in the middle of Mexico. Or a rundown part of the U.S. That boy could have been anywhere. For all I knew, that alleyway was nothing but a holding point in between transfers. And with the way those men were pushing him around in the video, it only filled me with the one truth I could pull from all this.
There was no way in hell Nicholas was still alive.
I started typing after that. At the end of all my documents, I made sure to compile a bullet-pointed synopsis of what I’d found. I decided not to put Leti’s story into the mix. If the guys figured out that she had told me lies along the way, they’d be less interested in helping her and more interested in taking down the cartel. And even though I was angry and confused as to why she would lie to me if she wanted our help, the last thing I wanted to do was rip that help from her.
So, I stuck to outlining the material I found to give them all an idea of the woman--and the situation--we were working with.
Then, I sent it off.
My eyes fell to the clock on my computer, and I groaned. I’d been at this shit for three hours. I closed everything down and wiped everything from my computer, then ventured over to the front door. I slid it open. And went to go stand on the porch. The sun was barely hanging in the sky. A couple of hours tops and nighttime would be falling on top of us. Worry pooled in my gut. I figured Leti would have come back before I finished my digging. I had questions for her. Unplugged holes that didn’t make sense. But more than that, I was worried.
More worried than I had ever been in my life.
“Leti!”
I cupped my hands over my mouth and called out for her.
“Leti!”
But the only thing that met my ears was a bunch of people sticking their heads out the window, telling me to shut the fuck up.
She had wiggled herself beneath my skin. Despite my rules and despite always keeping women at arm’s length, she had buried herself into me. Imprinted upon me a feeling I’d never experienced before. And I had half a mind to get on my damn bike and ride around town until I found her myself. My eyes scanned the horizon. I actually put on my shoes and went walking to the end of the road. My head stayed on a swivel, looking for any signs of her as I walked the small neighborhood I’d come to call home.
But as the sun continued to slowly sink, all I found was dust.
Dust, and dirt, and no sign of her.
Chapter 15
Leti
With my arms crossed over my chest, I walked down the street. I had no idea how long I had been walking or how long I had been gone, but the sun was beginning to sink pretty low in the sky. The dust kicked up around me, and there was nothing for miles. I passed small restaurants and bars every once in a while, but other than that it was open road and desert. I sighed. I knew I’d have to go back to Jace’s eventually. I couldn’t leave my emptied suitcase there.
But I didn’t want to go back.
I sighed and kept walking. The meeting at Sebastian’s place had been terrible. Horrendous. A disgusting way for me to spend my day. I took a taxi with the last of the money I had on me, and I was held at gunpoint while they sifted through my luggage. Sebastian kept raking his eyes over me. Like if he looked at me long enough, I’d drop my panties for him. The man holding me with the gun clenched my neck a little tighter than I would have liked and the man standing at the door smacked my ass on the way out.
At least I hadn’t been bent over a couch at that time, though.
Thankfully, the sick ruse stuck. Sebastian told me I looked horrible. Said if I puked on his carpet he’d have me stripped and beaten. Those types of threats used to scare me. Threaten me. But they didn’t anymore. They’d become another common occurrence in the pathetic life I led. After removing their drugs from my suitcase, they put everything back in and tossed it to me, smacking me in the stomach with it.
And before I left, Sebastian handed me a wad of cash. Much more than I could have ever needed for just one last job.
Which meant this next venture wasn’t the last job.
I felt tears crest my eyes as the clay mountains rose in the forefront of my vision. I should have known this wouldn’t have been the last mission. That I wouldn’t have seen my brother. That they wouldn’t have let me go. They hadn’t for two months. Why would they have let me go now? As much as I hated to admit it, Jace was right. Not only was the cartel not living up to anything regarding their word, but I still couldn’t get Sebastian to show me proof of life.
No picture, no voice call. Nothing.
Fear gripped my chest, and I stopped walking. I became hard to breathe. I made my way to a bench and sat down on the side of the deserted road as tears fell down my cheeks. He couldn’t be dead. Could he? I’d know. He was my brother. I’d feel it in the pit of my gut. That was how it always was with us. The first fight he ever got into in middle school, where his nose got broken. When he got arrested in high school for something stupid and innocent.
When the house was on fire…
I put my head in my hands and shook the memory from my mind. Was all of this a waste? Had I been risking my life only for the cartel to laugh at me about how stupid I was for believing they’d keep Nicholas alive? If he was gone, I had no one. Nothing. No parents. No grandparents. Just extended family in Mexico that I barely knew. I would be me against the world, and the thought alone made my shoulders hiccup with sobs. I leaned back into the bench and let the dust kick up around me. I felt it gather in my hair. Coat my clothes. I’m sure I’d have a puddle of it at the bottom of my purse by the time the wind was done. But, I didn’t care.
Because the more I thought about the cartel and Nicholas, the more that sinking feeling bloomed in the pit of my gut. The same sinking feeling I had before I found my father hanging from a noose. The same sinking feeling I had before Nicholas had been arrested. The same sinking feeling I had when Mom went into labor with my brother.
It was there, and I wanted it to go away.
I bent over and heaved. I held my stomach and coated the dusty ground at my feet with bile. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. Wait, yes, I could. Breakfast. That rotten apple. The memory of it made me heave even more. Tears streamed down my face as I gripped my stomach, shaking like a leaf in the wind. I couldn’t take it any longer. The danger. The suspense. The uncertainty. I couldn’t handle any of it any longer. I needed answers. I needed this time in my life to pass.
But I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared for the harsh truth I knew in the back of my mind was waiting at the end of this dark, dank tunnel.
I spat at the ground, then wiped my hand over my face. I grimaced at the vomit that got on the side of my pants. Which reminded me. I needed another set of clothes. I rose my head up and looked around, but there was nothing but empty road and dirt for miles. I hadn’t seen signs for any sort of a city. Nothing that was even close to where I was. But I knew I’d never be able to find clothes if I kept sitting on that bench. Or a taxi, no less.
So, I kicked some dirt over my mess and kept walking.
The sun beat down onto my face, shielding my eyes from the rest of the world. I held my hand up, feeling the sweat trickle down the nape of my neck. A few cars passed me by. Which meant I was getting closer to civilization. But, I didn’t want to veer too far of the track. I didn’t know Jace’s address. All I kn
ew was that I’d walked in a straight line for miles and miles after turning left off his street.
If I stayed walking straight, I could eventually get back to my suitcase.
The suitcase the cartel would kill me for losing or leaving behind.
After drenching my shirt in sweat, I finally came across a little rundown shop. It was nothing but a thrift store, and I couldn’t imagine them having any sort of professional-wear. But, it was something. And with the clothes I had on and the way the black pants were chaffing the insides of my legs, I needed a change of clothing.
Or three.
I slipped into the store and nodded at the woman behind the old wooden counter. I headed to their narrow clothing section and began to rifle through. Everything was very outdated. Massive sweaters that would hang off me. Sundresses with rips and tears in them. There were a few articles of clothing that were cute enough, but the sizes were much too small. They were more fit for a little girl than a fully-grown woman. I walked around the store, picking up a few items I could use. A pair of flip-flops. Some worn-out tennis shoes that looked more comfortable than the heels I’d been walking in for miles.
Then finally, I came to the formalwear section.
It was… sparse. A few tattered suits. Some very ugly-looking wedding dresses. But, beneath all of it were a couple of dresses I could make work. I’d need a belt around the waist for one of them, but the other one would look fine on its own. Or maybe with a wrap around my shoulders. I took them into the dressing room and tried them on, which was nothing more than a corner with a sheet tacked up. I smoothed my hands over the articles of clothing and sighed with relief. I could make these two dresses work.
I grabbed a dusty, mangled cart from the corner and threw everything in. Then, I started really rummaging around. I found a thick black belt to wrap around my waist for the purple dress and a knitted cardigan to wrap around my arms for the sleeveless black one. I picked through the rest of the clothing racks, finding a pair of faded jeans and a tunic I could use as everyday wear. A pair of black shorts called to me as well as several tank tops, and a couple of blouses I found to go along with it all would wear nicely in the summer sun.
And if I wore the heels on my feet, I could get by with a ‘touristy’ vibe for my next jobs.
I wrinkled my nose at the thought. It made me sick that I’d even have to consider that. It was disgusting how I’d have to also consider the idea of how I would come off to customs with any outfit I bought. I sighed and tossed the clothes into the cart. After grabbing an unopened pack of socks and underwear, I rolled everything up to the lady behind the counter. She cashed me out without even looking at me, and I almost laughed when she told me everything was only forty bucks. I reached down for a pack of gum and handed it to her, then opened my purse. I slid three twenties from around the wad of cash I tried to keep hidden from her eyes, then stuffed the change she handed me back down into my purse.
Then, I looked at the four bags full of clothes and groaned.
I’d have to carry those suckers all the way back.
I took the time to put on a pair of socks and my tennis shoes before stuffing my heels away. Then, after checking all my bags, I grabbed them and hoisted them off the counter. They weren’t too heavy. But they would be after two more hours of walking. I started away from the store and took a left, beginning my long straight-shot journey back to Jace’s.
I had nowhere else to go other than back.
My mind swirled as I held the bags on my arms. The private investigators I hired had warned me about this. They told me not to take the proof-of-life they had found and use it to fuel my hope. They kept saying Nicholas was ‘in transit’ to a final destination. That simply because he was alive in the picture and the video didn’t mean he’d stay that way. I’d fired them both for that statement, but it worried me that two different investigators had the same opinion.
They had warned me about this, and I hadn’t listened.
The man warned me that the likelihood of my brother staying alive was slim. The woman, however, warned me that the likelihood of them taking my brother as a ransom for my work was slim. She was under the assumption that they had taken Nicholas for an entirely different reason and using him as a bargaining chip was just a perk of the real reason why they took him. It made me sick to even think about why they would have taken him in the first place. Less because of why and more because of the reality. Why they took him didn’t matter. The reality of why they took him answered a lot of questions I still had surrounding his arrest in high school.
He told me he got arrested for possession of drugs because his friend had some on them. He claimed that he took the drugs from his friend because if his friend had gotten arrested, he would’ve been sent to jail for many years.
But I had my suspicions about how true that story was. For months leading up to the incident, I had noticed that Nicholas was acting differently. He started hanging out with a group of friends that I was wary of. His grades started to drop, and I even got several calls from his principal about him skipping classes.
My fear was that he had pissed off the wrong people and they had arranged his arrest. But I couldn’t prove that. I didn’t have any answers to those questions, and I never would. I’d held onto the hope for so long that Nicholas was alive. That I’d be able to wrap my arms around my little brother and hold him close. Help him heal. Get him the medical attention and psychological attention he needed before watching him go off to college. I knew how smart he was, and I didn’t want his mistakes to ruin the rest of his life.
And now, I wasn’t so sure any of that would take place.
The sun slowly sank behind me, casting nothing but the faintest glow over the road I’d been walking for an hour. I was only halfway there, and I’d have to do the rest of it in the dark. I got back to that same bench and crinkled my nose. The smell of vomit was strong in the air around it. I set my bags down to give my numb arms a rest, and just as I did, I felt my phone buzz in my purse.
My burner phone.
Which meant there was only one person who was calling me.
I pulled my phone out and saw I had three missed text messages. All from Sebastian. My eyes widened as his call fell to a voice mailbox that hadn’t been set up on my phone. Holy shit. He’d been trying to get in touch with me? I opened up the three messages and felt my entire body beginning to tremble.
Answer me when you get this.
Leti, I don’t like to be kept waiting.
I need to know where the fuck you are. What hotel did you get yourself set up at?
I stared at the messages as another phone call poured through the phone. And this time, the feeling of the vibrations made me jump. My jaw trembled. Tears filled my eyes. He wanted to know where I was, and I knew telling him I was still with my ‘friend’ would be unacceptable. Panic rose in my chest. Blood pounded through my ears. Every instinct of mine kicked in.
Pick of the phone, Leti.
Save your brother’s life, Leti.
Listen to what they say, Leti.
But, that small little voice chirped in the back of my mind. It whispered the one truth that made me sicker than anything in this world. And it was the only statement being whispered above the screams that made any sense.
He’s dead, Leti. Run.
So, I shoved my phone into my purse, picked up my bags, and did just that.
I ran until my legs couldn’t run any longer.
Chapter 16
Jace
After bypassing dinner and making myself hoarse calling out for Leti, I went and sat back down at my computer desk. I had to throw myself into research. I had to know all of the pieces to this puzzle. Otherwise, I’d get on my bike and ride around the entire fucking town until I found Leti. And I’d do it anyway if she didn’t come back within the next couple of hours. But until then, I still had questions that needed to be answered.
Questions the guys were already asking me after looking through the original document
I’d sent over to them all.
I sat back down at my computer and cracked my knuckles. Then, I started in the one place I usually did. Bank accounts. I used a basic software Rock had built and plugged her name into it which pulled up her banking history. And I saw a couple of accounts not connected to her bank but were in her name. And active. I managed--with a little digging and getting locked out once--to get into the accounts, and I immediately downloaded the banking history. There wasn’t much of it. A year of statements, maybe. I downloaded both of the bank account’s information before closing everything out.
Then one by one, I began to open them.
They were sparse in their use. Which didn’t shock me, given the flagrant use of the other account I had looked at earlier. But there were transactions in one of the accounts that raised a red flag. Chunks of money that had a very odd origination point. The pieces were small. Well, small to me. Three thousand or four thousand dollars at a time. Random spurts of it. I pulled up a tab on the internet and plugged in the origination point abbreviations, hoping to come up with where this money was coming from.
And my heart stopped when I found it.
The Roja Diablos? That couldn’t be right. I clicked back over to the PDF documents and scanned through the personal information. Leti Rodriguez. Escondido, California. Date of birth, May 29th, 1994. It was her information. Her name. Her identification slapped on the top of all the bank statements.
But was it her account?
I leaned back, smoothing my hands down my face. Holy shit, was Leti playing me? Was she happily working with the cartel? Was she on their fucking payroll? It didn’t fucking make any sense. I closed my eyes and allowed my head to fall back as my mind kicked back into gear. And when it did, it swirled. So much so that it made me sick. I stood up from my chair and took a step away from my computer, needing space and time to breathe. Then, her face flashed into my vision. The first time I’d ever seen her.
Jace (The Black Hornets MC Book 1) Page 9
