Carrera Cartel: The Collection

by Kenborn, Cora

  “Matty, I get it, you don’t want to be with me, but you have to call me back. This doesn’t have anything to do with you and me anymore.”

  “Fine, I wanted to do this in person, but you’ve given me no choice. Matty, you have to call me back. I’m pregnant. I just thought you deserved to know.”

  “I just wanted to say congratulations, Matty. You have a daughter. If you care to be a father, you know where we are.”

  No. This couldn’t be true. As intimate as we’d been over the past week, Leighton wouldn’t have hidden something like that. It wasn’t in her nature. She was too honest. Too uncorrupted. Too protective.

  Shit.

  Pieces of conversations flew through my head, finally making sense.

  “There’s no threat because I can’t get pregnant. I had some complications a few years ago and lost my ovaries.”

  “I didn’t say anything before because you have to understand, Mateo, I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

  “You ask me to make a choice to blindly follow you, but you won’t even own up to your own choices.”

  “If you want to be with me, you’re going to have to learn to accept all of me. You can’t ignore it anymore.”

  “Things could’ve been so different for all of us.”

  I was wrong. Her anger had been completely justified. She thought I knew and didn’t care. She thought I’d turned my back on my own child.

  My child.

  My hands clenched into fists. “Where did these originate?”

  “That’s the thing. I can’t trace the original file.”

  It didn’t matter. The truth had been lying to my face for years. Only one person had my phone. If these messages existed, only one person could’ve kept them from me this whole time. The same person who’d already lied to me about talking with the DEA.

  I took a breath, trying to control the vicious anger roiling inside me. “Get out.”

  Bright loosened the tie knotted around his neck. “There’s more.” Clicking a few more keys, he turned the screen around as another black box popped up. “This one isn’t so pleasant.”

  “911 dispatch, what’s your emergency?”

  “There’s a drug deal going down on Gray and Elgin. I think it involves one of those Carrera Cartel guys.”

  “We have an undercover officer in the area already on it. What’s your name, sir?”

  “That’s all,” Bright said. “The caller hung up after that.” Closing his laptop, he dropped it in his bag and secured the latch.

  “I’ll need a copy of these.”

  “Already have it.” Pulling another flash drive out of his pocket, he dropped it into the cupholder as he quickly climbed out of the Tahoe.

  * * *

  Brody was waiting by the curb outside the DA’s office when I pulled up. He’d barely closed the door before I hit the gas.

  “Do you mind telling me what the hell was so urgent I had to postpone a very important meeting?”

  I didn’t even glance at him. “Your stepfather killed Hector Diaz.”

  “What?” I expected the shock in his voice, but it still irritated me. “Are you insane? Finn is the CEO of an oil company, not a sicario. Turn this fucking car around. You’ve lost your damn mind.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you believe me or not. You can ask him yourself.”

  “Oh, sure, when he turns up, I’ll just—” His voice trailed off as everything clicked. Dropping his head against the headrest, he groaned. “Oh fuck, Mateo, you didn’t.”

  “You’re damn right I did, and I’d do it again.” I jerked the wheel, my tone harsh. “But that isn’t what has him in one of our holding tanks.” Turning my head, I held his stare for a moment. “Brody, I have to tell you something, and I need you to keep as calm as possible.”

  He let out a breath. “If it’s about you and my sister being together when she was a teenager, I already know.”

  What? Fuck, I didn’t expect that.

  “No. It’s about Finn and your sister.”

  Brody’s voice got deathly low. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  He listened quietly as I recounted the story Leighton had told me. Brody sat motionless, gripping the door handle until his arm shook. When I finished, he just stared at me, his face chalk white.

  “Brody? Say something.”

  “Pull over,” he rasped.

  I pulled off the shoulder of the road, and he ripped off his seat belt. Flinging the door open, he retched onto the asphalt until I was sure he’d pass out. Finally wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he climbed back into the truck.

  “Take me to him.”

  Putting the Tahoe in drive, I pulled back into traffic. “With pleasure.”

  * * *

  After I unlocked the heavy steel door, Brody didn’t bother opening it. He just kicked it in. The black tarp crunched under his expensive dress shoes as he stormed across the room.

  “Oh, thank God, Brody! You have to get me out of—” Finn’s head snapped back as Brody barreled straight into him, landing one hell of an impressive right hook across his face. Blood poured from his already broken nose as he let out a strangled howl. “You hit me!”

  “I trusted you. I stood up for you,” Brody roared, wrapping his hand around Finn’s throat. “I should rip your throat out.”

  I stood against the wall, watching what was left of the cultured lawyer in Brody Harcourt be replaced by a ruthless killer. While I couldn’t say the transformation wasn’t overdue, this wasn’t his show.

  “Not until I get some answers first,” I interrupted, moving in between them. Reaching into my waistband, I pulled out my gun and waved it in Donovan’s face. “Finley, you fucked up.”

  “Oh? What offense did I commit this time?”

  “I just found out something very interesting. Why did you have me busted four years ago?” I tapped my gun against his nose. “I know you called in the tip that got me arrested.”

  Finn wisely kept his mouth shut for a few minutes, probably weighing his options. When he came to the conclusion that he had none, he glared at me through swollen eyes and smirked. “You think this was all my idea? Wake up, asshole, your own cartel members have done others’ bidding long before the almighty Val Carrera.”

  My finger twitched against the trigger. “It was your voice on the dispatch call.”

  “Getting rid of you was a fringe benefit. You took up too much of her time.”

  I slammed the side of my gun against his face, my control breaking.

  Finn spat out a mouthful of blood and laughed. “How do you think you got sent away without so much as a fair trial? If you think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, you’re an even bigger dumbass than I am.”

  “Our members wouldn’t rig the system against our own.”

  He grinned through bloodstained teeth. “Are you sure about that?”

  I knew his game, and I couldn’t let him knock me off mine. So instead of letting him rattle me, I pressed the barrel of my gun against his cheek. “Leighton said you lost your six iron.”

  “So?”

  “One of our men’s head was turned into cream cheese with a six iron.” Using my free hand, I pointed to my temple. “Left an imprint right in his skin.”

  “Oh, and I did it because I belong to a country club and like to hit the links?”

  “No, because you’re a fucking rapist who isn’t smart enough to cover his own crime.” I increased the gun’s pressure on his cheek. “You’re too stupid to do this on your own, so tell me who gave the order, and I might let you go.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” Brody yelled behind me. “You’re going to let him go?”

  “Shut up,” I growled.

  Finn watched our back-and-forth with interest. “If I tell you, you’ll let me go?”

  Stepping back, I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped the barrel of the gun against my bicep. “I’ll consider it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “
Then maybe you should be at Caliente instead of here.”

  Part of me already knew it, but hearing the words still sucked. Lowering the gun, I held it by my side. “Are you saying…”

  “Yeah, genius. There’s been an unholy alliance for years, and it’s not in Mexico. A power play none of you saw coming.” A slow smile parted his lips. “Except maybe sweet Leighton. She always was a smart one—feisty too. I wonder if that trait was passed down?”

  Images blackened my vision, and I aimed my gun at his forehead. “She’s mine. Both of them.”

  “Wait!” he screamed, jerking in his chair. “You said you wouldn’t kill me if I told you.”

  “I lied.” Just as I was about to pull the trigger, Brody grabbed my wrist. Glaring at him, I waved the gun in his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You know what this sick son of a bitch did to your sister.”

  “I’ll never be able to forget,” he growled, kicking Finn’s chair and sending him crashing against the wall. “But we should use him as bait. Let’s let him hang himself and end this once and for all.”

  Finn let out an audible sigh of relief, but I’d had enough.

  “Fuck that.” Extending my arm, I aimed right between his eyes and pulled the trigger, exploding the back of Finn’s head against the wall.

  Brody sighed behind me. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said we should let him hang himself. He could’ve been useful, Mateo.”

  “And maybe you didn’t hear me.” Tucking the gun back in my waistband, I turned around and glared at him. “I said, fuck that. To be honest, the fact he doesn’t have two bullets in his brain makes me want to put one in yours.”

  Shoving both arms into my chest, he knocked me backward. “Don’t ever question my love for Leighton. I’d die for her.”

  I shoved him right back. Only mine was harder and came with a warning. “Yeah? I just killed for her. Now clean this shit up. We have work to do.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Leighton

  Jackie paced the uneven asphalt outside the back door of Caliente, sucking on the end of a thin cigarette. As late as it was, she was still dressed to impress—a smart navy-blue pantsuit over a crisp white shirt and a simple necklace she held like a talisman. I leaned against the back of the building watching her crumble with every step.

  “Since when did you take up smoking?”

  Stopping, she crossed an arm over her chest and blew a heavy line of smoke. “Since when did you take to summoning me?” Shaking her head, she resumed her pacing. “Make this quick, Leighton. Your mother doesn’t know I’m gone.”

  “It’s Saturday night.”

  She chuckled. “Your point?” Spinning around, she peered around the corner. “Are you sure it’s safe to talk out here?”

  I was way ahead of her. Before texting her to meet me during my break, I’d ensured Emilio was busy and none of his associates were anywhere near the building. I even kept a watch across the street to ensure Swenson and his buddy had taken the night off. I made mistakes, but I didn’t repeat them.

  “Yes, everyone else is inside. No one’s listening.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Someone’s always listening.”

  After the last few days, I’d come to question everyone’s motives. There was no such thing as a selfless deed. While I didn’t want to alienate her, I didn’t have time to stand out here arguing with her.

  “You were concerned about me being near Alex Atwood at the fundraiser. Why?”

  The orange end of Jackie’s cigarette flickered. “I didn’t like the looks of him.”

  “Right. Is that why you played a game of ‘riddle me this’ at my mother’s office? I did what you told me to.” Digging into my apron, I pulled out the picture of Alex from my father’s funeral and held it up. “I found this.”

  She exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Yeah?”

  Her blasé attitude irritated me. She’d presented the can of worms, and I dumped it out. She was sifting through them with me whether she liked it or not. “Why was Alex at my father’s funeral? You seem to know a lot about both of them, so I was hoping you could shed some light on this for me.”

  Dropping her cigarette to the ground, she stomped it out with the toe of her shoe. “I’m sure you have access to a computer,” she mumbled. “Google Detective Alex Atwood and see what pops up.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she turned to walk away.

  Moving quickly, I grabbed her arm. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I told you, I do a lot of things not in my job description.” Her body tensed, and her shoulders drew toward her ears. “But I didn’t sign on for any of this shit.”

  “Shit? What shit? And why do you care so much about my father?”

  Jackie glanced over her shoulder, and I had to swallow my reaction. The earlier nervousness etched in her face deepened into a pain I knew all too well. It caused permanent lines carved by rivers of tears only cried by someone whose heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.

  “Your father was a good man, Leighton,” she said, her tone hauntingly sad. “He cared about people and saw the good in them. Even people who did things they didn’t want to.” Her voice broke on her last words, her hand reaching for the necklace dangling just above the collar of her shirt. I caught a glimpse of it just before she wrapped it protectively in her hand.

  A gold “J” on a dainty gold chain.

  Just like mine.

  My heart thundered in my chest. “Beautiful necklace.”

  “It was a gift.” Her grip tightened, as if my acknowledgment would make it disappear.

  I understood her possessiveness—her need to hold tightly to the only thing she had left. It was a lasting testament to the good part in all of us. I should’ve been jealous. It should’ve soiled my most sacred memories, tainting the infallible man I put on a pedestal.

  But I wasn’t, and it didn’t.

  It made him human, and instead of hating Jackie for having a private part of my father, I felt a strange kinship with her. James Harcourt wasn’t perfect. However, neither was I. I’d killed, lied, stolen, and given myself to a man who’d probably committed every sin there was.

  Love wasn’t unflawed. It was ugly, damaged, imperfect, and at times tragic. But in the end, it was what kept us breathing. It was what woke us up and got us out of bed, hoping for another chance at making it better. It was what drove us to right the wrongs we carried with us far too long.

  “I have to go,” she said, brushing her eye with the back of her hand.

  I nodded as her heels clicked away into the darkness. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I had no idea if she heard me or not, but it didn’t matter. Our business together wasn’t finished, and she knew it. However, I’d give her the space she needed to compose herself before approaching her again. Drying my damp palms on my apron, I opened the back door and went back into Caliente on a mission. There would be no more reporting back to Alex until I knew exactly who he was and what backdoor agenda he had. Whatever he wanted on the Carrera Cartel, I had a feeling it was a smoke screen for something much bigger, and I was tired of being a sacrificial lamb.

  It was time to be a wolf.

  Emilio must have stepped out for a moment because a quick sweep of the place found no trace of him. At almost one o’clock in the morning, it was near closing time anyway, so the place had already begun filtering out. I had to act quickly.

  Keeping his office door cracked so I could listen for footsteps, I typed in Emilio’s password and Googled exactly what Jackie told me to. It took only seconds for the links to pop up, so I clicked on the first one and held my breath.

  I read as fast as I could, every word turning my stomach. Alex Atwood joined the New Orleans Police Department in 1985 and the Houston Police Department as a detective in 2004. The fact that he served on the same force at the same time as my father was bad enough, but the next link I clicked on stunned me. Detective Alex Atwood served on the Project Guardian Task Force. It was the specialized task f
orce my father created to take down the Houston based Carrera Cartel contingent.

  Alex and my father worked side by side against the Carreras.

  My fingers couldn’t work fast enough. Jackie wouldn’t give me useless information like this for no reason. Just as I clicked on the third link, a commotion from down the hallway sent my heart halfway up my throat.

  “Amanda! You left the back door unlocked again. How many times have I warned you about that, renita?”

  Shit! Emilio!

  Closing out the screen, I quickly deleted the browser history and logged out of the laptop. Pushing the chair back, I rushed toward the door and slipped into the hallway. With my heart pounding in my ears, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath.

  Oh, God, that was close. I’m never doing that again.

  “Leighton, is everything all right?”

  A chill crawled up my spine as I glanced up and collided eyes with my boss. “Y-yes, everything’s fine. Why?”

  Emilio tilted his head. “You look a little flushed.”

  “No, just tired. We were busy today. I need to finish my end of shift work. I don’t want to hold anyone up.”

  “You do that.” A deadly smile parted his lips, his silver capped teeth glinting under the dimmed light. I backed away, unable to take my eyes off him. “Oh, and Leighton? Please see me after you’re done. I’d like to talk to you.”

  * * *

  I’d never cleaned so fast in my life. Even Amanda asked if I was on something and if so, it was rude not to share. I just laughed, not sure if I should confide in her that I didn’t want to be left alone with Emilio and end up under a tarp in the back of his SUV.

  Instead, I just scrubbed harder and prayed.

  As I heard Amanda clock out and the back door slam behind her, I sucked in a defeated breath, almost crushing a freshly washed glass in my bare hand.

  I was alone with Emilio.

  Wiping down the final table, I cursed myself for leaving my phone in my car. At least if I had it, I could’ve called someone before walking into his office so if he killed me on the spot, they would have audible evidence of the crime. Without it, it could take weeks to find my body—if they ever did.