Fast Vengeance

by Kaylea Cross

  FAST VENGEANCE

  DEA FAST Series

  Kaylea Cross

  FAST VENGEANCE

  Copyright © 2018 Kaylea Cross

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  Cover Art: Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Developmental Edits: Deborah Nemeth

  Line Edits: Joan Nichols

  Digital Formatting: LK Campbell

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-928044-27-7

  She’s learning to live with her demons.

  Victoria Gomez had a successful career as an investigative journalist, until a cartel boss she exposed destroyed her entire world in retaliation. She lost everything, including her family and her freedom. Since her brutal captivity she’s been in witness protection, picking up the shattered pieces of her life and struggling to put the past behind her as she moves on. But there’s one man she can’t forget. The night of her rescue an elite DEA agent helped pull her out of hell. Now time is running short for them. They have no chance at a future, but she can’t keep her distance any longer. Even if it means suffering more heartbreak when she’s forced to leave him behind and walk away forever.

  He’s about to face his own.

  As FAST Bravo’s team leader, Brock Hamilton is used to being in charge and calling the shots. He was there the night Victoria was rescued. Since then they’ve forged a bond that has grown stronger every day—and neither of them can ignore the electric pull any longer. Yet just as they’ve found a fleeting happiness together, duty pulls them apart too soon. When a twist of fate lands him a prisoner of the same cartel responsible for all of Victoria’s anguish, it will take all Brock’s strength to survive. And if he does, it will mean living without the woman who owns his heart.

  Dedication

  For my husband, for all the things you do for me and our family that allow me to chase my dreams. I love you for being my steady Eddie. xo

  Author’s Note

  Well, here we are at Hamilton and Victoria’s story. I’ve been looking forward to writing this one since the beginning of the series, and the words just flew out of my fingers as I wrote it. I hope that’s a good sign. I love this story so much, and hope you will too.

  Kaylea :)

  Table of Contents

  FAST VENGEANCE

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Thank You For Reading

  Excerpt from Guarded

  About the Author

  Complete Booklist

  Prologue

  “Tía Victoria, do you want some more chicken?”

  Seated in the last spot next to the kids’ table, Victoria handed off the platter of sautéed green beans and turned her head to smile down at her six-year-old nephew. “No thanks, sweetie, my plate’s so full I can’t fit another thing on it.”

  He put the chicken platter down and went back to staring longingly at his own plate, knowing better than to so much as pick up his fork until they were all given the signal. Everyone knew the rules.

  She leaned over to whisper to him. “Go ahead and sneak a bite. I’ll cover for you.”

  He grinned and snatched up a bite of cucumber from his salad, doing his best to chew without drawing any notice.

  Victoria smiled to herself. Due to her latest whirlwind book tour, it had been a few months since she’d been able to come to Sunday dinner at her parents’ house, and she’d missed it. This most recent book about the deadly Veneno cartel was her best work yet as an investigative journalist and she was damn proud of it.

  The usual suspects were present: her siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and their children. Her father’s side of the family, all living right here in Houston, filling the old dining room with life and noise in the way that only a big, extended family could. They always celebrated special occasions together. It was loud and chaotic, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  When all the dishes had been passed around the table and everyone had filled their plates, her father raised his wineglass for a toast to signal that the meal was about to commence. “To the cooks,” he said, indicating him and Victoria’s mother, his deep voice cutting through the room with ease.

  Then he turned to his parents, seated as always side by side to his right. They’d been married for more than fifty years, had risked everything to leave Mexico as teenagers with only the clothes on their backs, and start a new life here in Houston. “And to my father, the patriarch of this family, on his eightieth birthday. This family exists and enjoys a wonderful life because of your bravery and sacrifice. I hope we’re all gathered around in this same room in twenty years for your hundredth.”

  Smiling fondly at her grandfather, Victoria raised her glass in salute. “To Abuelito.” With a hearty cheers and clinking of glasses all along the two tables set end to end, everyone sipped and then dug in. Conversation and laughter flowed freely along with the wine.

  She’d finished her first helping and was reaching for another serving of roasted veggies when tires squealed on the driveway. Victoria and several others turned around to look out the tall windows that overlooked the front of the house. From her vantage point she could just make out the back bumper of a minivan that had pulled up behind her grandparents’ car.

  “You expecting anyone?” she asked her father.

  “No,” he said, putting down his napkin and pushing his chair back. “I’ll go see who it is. Back in a minute.”

  He was halfway to the front door when something slammed against it. He jerked to a halt and everyone else went silent, all of them staring at the door, wondering what the hell was going on.

  Before anyone could move or say anything, it burst open. Victoria jumped and smothered a gasp as her father stumbled back and three masked men stormed in. They all carried military-style rifles.

  A wave of terror broke over her. Cries of alarm rang out from around the table but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the intruders. She instinctively grabbed her nephew and turned her body away from the men, shielding the boy while parents gathered up their frightened children and retreated to the rear of the room. She sat there staring at the men, frozen, her muscles rigid, heart hammering in her throat.

  Her father hadn’t moved from his spot. He had a gun safe, but it was down in the basement. And even if they used all the guns in it, they didn’t have a prayer of fighting off three men armed with automatic rifles.

  “Get the hell out of my house,” her father snarled, bravely blocking their way.

  The masked man in the lead stepped forward and shoved him so hard he crashed into the wall.
Then he turned to face them and it seemed to Victoria that his gaze landed on her.

  “Victoria Gomez,” he said in a tone that sent chills racing down her spine. “My boss has been so looking forward to finally meeting you.”

  She blanched as realization hit home. Carlos Ruiz, the most vicious Veneno lieutenant. He’d come for her.

  Her sister-in-law wrenched Victoria’s nephew from her arms and ran to her husband, her entire family now gathered against the far wall at the end of the dining room, the men standing in front of the women. They were trapped in here, the only way out past the armed intruders.

  Victoria’s entire body was numb as she woodenly pushed to her feet, fear flooding her entire body. But when one of the other men stalked over to grab her father and wrench him to his feet, the anger snapped the band of fear wrapped around her ribcage.

  “Let him go,” she demanded, taking a step forward. They were here for her, for what she’d uncovered. Her family had nothing to do with it.

  The man in front, clearly the one in charge, smiled. A cruel twist of his lips within the hole revealed by the mask. His black eyes glittered like a snake’s. “Come here.” He held his palm up, crooked his fingers at her. Like she was a dog he expected to come to heel when called.

  One of her brothers grabbed her shoulder, tugged her backward. “Vic. Don’t,” he whispered, his voice tense.

  She was afraid to move, but more terrified of what would happen if she didn’t. “If I do, you’ll let him go?” she said to the man, surprised her voice was working.

  The man dropped his hand. Shrugged. “Sure.”

  Indecision warred inside her. But what choice did she have? She had to protect her family.

  “Vic, no,” her brother warned.

  I have to.

  Twisting away from his restraining grip, she ignored the frightened cries behind her and forced her feet to carry her toward the man. Her belly was clamped tight, nausea churning in waves, each step a small eternity. Some of her siblings or their significant others would have their phones in their pockets. One of them would have dialed 911 already. Maybe the dispatcher would figure out something was wrong and send the cops.

  They won’t get here in time.

  When she came within reach, the leader snaked out a hand and grabbed her by the hair. She stifled a cry and stiffened as he hauled her up against him, grabbing his wrist to try and pull free. It was no use. He was too strong. She shuddered at the unforgiving outline of his rifle digging into her right hip.

  With a jerk on her hair he wrenched her around to face her family, all huddled around the children against the far wall behind the table, some of them crying, others staring at her with stricken expressions. Victoria stared back at them and met her mother’s eyes, panic flooding her system.

  The leader spoke to the one holding her father. “Let him go.”

  Her father immediately rushed over to gather Victoria’s mother into his arms and stood with the others, trying to shield his wife. His parents cowered behind him, clinging to one another, their lined faces wet with tears.

  Victoria swallowed hard and stood rooted to the spot, her hand wrapped around the powerful wrist holding her hair, not daring to move. Then the man who had been holding her father crossed over to grab her wrists, wrench them behind her and bound them with something tight and hard that bit into her skin. Zip tie.

  “Don’t hurt them,” she blurted, her voice husky as she fought not to cry and beg. She’d spent more than three years tracking the rise of the Veneno cartel, and the past nine months using all her contacts to research Carlos Ruiz. She knew what he did to his enemies. And she also knew all the horrific things he did to his female captives.

  “We’ve got to go now,” the man said, his mouth right beside her ear, making her cringe. “Say goodbye, Victoria.”

  Mind working frantically, she swept her gaze over her beloved family. The sight of those frightened faces staring back at her broke her heart. There was nothing she could do to escape. This was the last time she would see them. Ruiz’s men would take her to a hideout somewhere off the grid, torture her for days or maybe even weeks before killing her or selling her off, like they had with the other female captives.

  Tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t control it. Couldn’t stop it. “I love you all,” she said hoarsely. “Goodbye.”

  “No. Victoria, no!” her mother cried, her face twisting with grief as she tried to push away from her husband.

  Victoria expected the men to haul her away. Instead, the hand in her hair tightened, arching her neck back at a painful angle. Holding her there in front of her family. “Do it,” he commanded.

  The other two men stepped in front of him, raised their weapons, and opened fire.

  “No! Oh my God, no!” Victoria’s screams of horror were drowned out beneath the thunder of automatic gunfire as it ripped through the room. Her family fell like a field of hay to the sweep of a scythe.

  She shut her eyes and tried to twist away but it didn’t block out the screams and cries of agony above the noise, the thud of the bullets hitting home.

  She kept screaming and fought her captor, trying to wrench free, to stop this somehow. She screamed until her throat was raw, was still screaming after the gunfire had stopped.

  The silence finally registered over the roar of blood in her ears. And when she opened her eyes to face the carnage at last, her entire family lay dead or dying on the dining room floor. They lay on top of one another like cordwood stacked at the far end of the room, parents collapsed on top of their children, having desperately tried to shield them with their own bodies.

  A high-pitched sound of grief tore from her. From beneath her brother’s body protruded her nephew’s little leg. It twitched in the rapidly spreading pool of blood staining the tile floor.

  He was still alive, but not for long.

  Soul-shattering grief slammed into her. She was shaking all over. The pain was unbearable. Searing her lungs, ripping her heart apart. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t bear the agony.

  A hood plunged roughly over her head, hurtling her into darkness as the man holding her dragged her from the house. But even in the blackness, all she could see was that horrific tableau of her dead family burned into the backs of her eyelids.

  It’s my fault. They had been murdered because of her. For however long she had left on this earth, she would have to live with that.

  Her captor shoved her onto a seat as an engine roared to life. Doors slammed shut and the tires squealed as the vehicle raced off.

  And through the crushing pain of guilt and loss, she was well aware that her suffering had only begun.

  Chapter One

  An arm wrapped around her throat from behind.

  Victoria automatically stepped to the side and turned, throwing her left arm straight out and wrapping it around her attacker’s arms, then threw a punch with her right. The moment she was free, she whirled and rammed a knee into her attacker’s belly.

  An expertly placed forearm whipped out to block it at the last moment. “Good. Very good, you didn’t even hesitate this time.”

  Straightening, Victoria looked at the other woman. “Guess I must have a good teacher, huh?”

  Briar DeLuca grinned, her teeth startling white against her dusky skin tone. “Well, you could do worse.”

  “She could do way worse.” Trinity rose from her chair on the other side of the room, cup of coffee in hand. She was sensuality personified as she walked toward them in her red wrap-style dress that came to just below her knees and hugged every curve.

  But that magnetic sensuality hid a darker edge.

  Underneath all the sleek glamor and sex appeal, Trinity was deadly. Victoria didn’t know the details, but both Trinity and Briar had been part of something called The Valkyrie program, a top-secret group run by the government that was now disbanded.

  Unlike Briar, who used a sniper rifle for her kills, Victoria got the sense that Trinity had made a career of elimin
ating her targets by far more…up close and personal means. Both women were fascinating. And they were both survivors themselves, which made Victoria feel more comfortable with them.

  “You two done yet?” Trinity asked. “Because there’s a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge, and it’s been calling my name for the past three hours. You’re both lucky it’s still in there.”

  Wearing yoga pants and a tank top that showed off her strong arms, Briar arched a dark eyebrow at Victoria. “Well? Your call.”

  She nodded and swiped a forearm across her sweaty forehead. They’d been working for nearly an hour at this point. “I’m done.”

  “Wine it is,” Briar announced, spinning around and heading for Trinity’s fridge.

  “Make yourself at home,” Trinity said dryly, following her.

  “Always do.” She plucked the wine from the fridge. “Oooh, and you’ve made food for us too?”

  “A few nibbles,” Trinity answered, bumping her aside with a hip to take out a couple of platters.

  Victoria moaned as she took a seat on one of the stools at the island. “Cream puffs?” A whole plate of them, each the size of a golf ball, and all of them covered in dark chocolate.

  “And strawberries,” Trinity was quick to add. “Also dipped in chocolate, but whatever. Because we all need five to ten servings of fruits and veggies a day, after all.” She popped a puff into her mouth, her pretty blue eyes sparkling as she chewed it.

  Victoria grabbed one in each hand, eyeing the berries. She could easily demolish the entire plate.

  “Ooh, doubling down right out of the gate. I like it,” Briar said, sliding Victoria a glass of wine across the island. “Just make sure you save some for me.”

  “Not promising anything,” Victoria mumbled around her second creampuff, taking the wine.