Carrera Cartel: The Collection
Page 68
Hell, no.
Slamming the folder closed, I threw it across my desk. “Get out.”
The smirk faded from Adriana’s face, quickly replaced by something far more deadly. Something I knew too well. A fusion of a silent predator and a raging storm. A dichotomy born by blood and cultivated by power. It surfaced on impulse and flipped on a dime.
It was something I’d witnessed firsthand from her brother the two times I chose to disregard the proper chain of command. The first time Val was too concerned with rescuing the woman we both loved to bother with me. The second time would’ve guaranteed my death had he not owed me for finding her.
She leaned in closer. “I indulged your tantrum last night because let’s be honest, I beat you at your own game. I figured you needed some time to cool off and lick your wounds.” She paused, the flecks in her midnight eyes flashing like streaks of gold-plated lightning. “I came here this morning to offer you a chance to apologize and reconsider my offer.”
The heat boiling inside me turned to stone. “You want me to apologize for getting pissed at being insulted and threatened with blackmail? Are you kidding me?”
“You put a hole through my wall.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t put a hole through your head.”
“I’ll chalk that one up to the hangover. Regardless, my offer has an expiration date. I’m not a patient woman, Brody, and contrary to the lenience I’ve given you, I don’t tolerate being jerked around.”
“And this offer would be?”
Smiling, she toyed with the loose threads on my shirt where the buttons used to be and trailed that damn red painted fingernail down my chest. I held in a groan, the fantasy of where the nail swirled earlier dancing around in my head and causing beads of sweat to break out across my upper lip.
My brain sent flares up, screaming for my cock to stand down.
It’s a trap. It’s a trap. It’s a trap.
“Either you call Val and tell him we’re coming, or I call him and tell him the only reason he’s married is because your plan backfired.”
My cock sighed as my brain took a bow.
Told ya so.
God, I needed space. I needed to think. Wrapping my fingers around her upper arms, I gave enough of a push that she released her grip on my chair and stumbled backward. Breathing in gulps of air instead of just her, blood finally rerouted to my brain.
“You don’t have any proof.”
“I don’t need proof.” She punctuated each word with a dramatic pause.
“I don’t think you have the balls.”
Adriana let out a husky laugh. “Oh, counselor, I have them, and they’re way more than you could ever handle.” Perching her ass right on my desk, she grabbed my cell phone.
I lunged. “Give me that!”
Bad move.
My close proximity gave her perfect positioning. She quickly turned my phone around, holding it just long enough for the facial recognition to unlock the damn thing before jumping off the table. “I’ll put it on speaker just so you can hear it for yourself.”
“I swear, Adriana, if you—”
“Brody, is everything okay?”
I froze as I heard the familiar voice. The one that still made my stomach flip.
“Good morning,” Adriana said, in a sing-song voice, her accent heavier than usual. “I’d like to speak to Valentin Carrera.”
“Who is this? Why do you have Brody’s phone?”
“I’m a friend of Brody’s.”
There was a long pause, and my heart slammed against my chest so hard, it might have broken a couple ribs. A door closed in the background, and the voice on the line hardened. “I’m a friend of Brody’s too. I’m also Valentin Carrera’s wife. Anything you have to say you can say to me.”
“Eden Lachey.” A catlike smile spread across Adriana’s lips. “I don’t think so.”
“Eden Carrera.”
“How traditional of you.”
“Look, lady, I don’t know who you think you are—”
Adriana held my stare. “Trust me, he’ll take my call when you tell him who’s on the line.”
“And who is it?”
“Adr—”
I knocked the phone out of her hand, lunging for it before she could drive the final nail in my coffin. Luckily, my reflexes weren’t as sluggish as my brain, and I grabbed it seconds before she did, ending the call with a glare. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
She shrugged. “You forced my hand.”
“I thought you wanted my death to be slow and drawn out, not over in the next five minutes!”
Adriana cocked her head. “You still love her.”
“Eden is married to Val, and Val is the head of the cartel I’ve sworn a life oath to. For fuck’s sake, they have a baby.”
“Thanks for the biography. However, you didn’t deny it which tells me I’m right.”
The headache that had been pounding behind my eyes suddenly became a full-blown explosion. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes as a heated conversation from over a year ago broke through the incessant hammering in my head.
I shed my suit jacket and raced to catch up with him. “You need me, Carrera. I know where she is, and I need you. I can’t go in there alone. I’ll never make it out.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“Look,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder and stopping our movement. “She doesn’t want me, man. I don’t know what you’ve got going on with Eden, but it’s obvious you care about her. I may not like you, but that’s enough for me. I just want her safe.”
“She’s mine.”
“Fine, she’s yours. Can we go get her now?”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “If you have no interest in her, why are you so dead set on walking into a massacre? You do understand this isn’t the movies, right? These men are real. They have real guns with real bullets, and a lot of people will die. I can’t guarantee you won’t be one of them. My only concern will be Eden.”
I didn’t flinch despite his warning. “Let’s just say, I’m hoping if I do this, you’ll owe me one.”
I was right. I may have lost Eden to Val, but I gained something almost as valuable.
An owed favor.
A favor that I cashed in trying to protect my sister. Now my safety net was gone. I didn’t have anything to shield me from Val’s wrath should Adriana follow through with her threat. Our relationship was already shaky due to my history with his wife. If Adriana told him I exposed her identity just to sever his hold on Eden, he’d happily gut me himself.
I might be reckless, but I wasn’t suicidal.
I squeezed my phone so hard, I was surprised it didn’t crack. “Fine.”
Adriana cupped a hand behind her ear. “What was that?”
I ground out the words as if I were chewing sand. “I said, fine.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
She pointed at the phone in my hand. “Aren’t you going to call him?”
“With you here? I don’t think so.”
“You’re seriously taking all the fun out of this for me,” she huffed, crossing her arms.
“I thought this was about family and saving the Carrera siblings from impending doom?”
“It is. Watching you squirm is just a fringe benefit.”
I lowered my head into my hands, rubbing my forehead. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this. He’s not going to be happy I’m leaving Houston unmanned.”
She nodded toward the bar area where Rafael was probably fending off bar bitch. “Your boy seems more than capable of handling things. Arrange a flight for this afternoon. I’m sure there are washed funds tucked away somewhere in this office.”
I swore, the woman lived to make my life hell. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
She dropped her arms by her side, her sulky attitude fading. “Fine. I have to pack, anyway. Pick me up in an hour?”
Rolling
my chair against my desk, I stared at spreadsheets I didn’t give a shit about. “Meet me here in two.”
One hour. Two hours. Who cared? Timing meant nothing. Not letting her get her way meant everything.
“So bossy,” she chided, swaying her hips as she made her way toward the door. I almost let out a breath when she glanced back over her shoulder. “Oh, and Brody?
Turning my head, I glared at her between two fingers.
“Don’t ever fuck me over again. Sometimes I forgive, but I never forget.”
Chapter Ten
Adriana
After throwing what little I owned into the tattered bag I carted across the border, I walked in the door of Caliente exactly fifty-nine minutes after walking out of it. Brody demanded I wait two hours, but I’d lived long enough to know anything could be a trap. Sometimes the element of surprise was the sole difference between survival and ambush.
Setting my bag on a nearby table, I surveyed the scene. It was too quiet. Granted, it was still only eleven o’clock in the morning. The lunch crowd probably wouldn’t swarm in for another half hour, but I didn’t like the unnatural silence.
“You’re early.”
I yelped and spun around with my hand shoved in my bag, in position to knee somebody in the balls then blow them off. Luckily, I recognized that steel cut jaw from earlier and punched him in the shoulder instead.
It was like punching a brick wall.
“Jesus!” I hissed, glaring at Brody’s lapdog as I shook my injured hand by my side. “Don’t you know you’re never supposed to sneak up on someone who could blow your dick off?” I glanced down to find my knuckles red as hellfire. “Dios mío, do you have concrete under that T-shirt?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Brody told you not to be here for another hour.”
“Aw, that’s cute. Do you wipe his ass for him too?”
“Look, lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but when Brody Harcourt gives an order around here, you listen.”
He was like an obedient little Rottweiler.
If Rottweilers were ten seconds away from stabbing you in the face.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, puppy. I had to check out of the motel by eleven, or I would’ve had to pay for an extra night. Let’s be real here. If he had to choose between having me show up a little early or having $65.60 charged on his credit card, I think we both know what he’d prefer.”
“I don’t know if…” His voice trailed off, and those dark eyes gave me a few slow blinks. “Wait, how do you have his credit card number?”
Because I stole his wallet last night.
“Is that really important? I think we have bigger issues to worry about, such as the fact that it’s way too quiet in here.” Tucking my hand back inside my purse, I turned my attention back toward the open cantina.
“You’d prefer a bar brawl?”
“I don’t like quiet.” I narrowed my eyes and glared at him over my shoulder. “If you were any good at your job, you wouldn’t either.”
Technically, I was right. A second in command should be patrolling the area with an eagle eye, watching for anything out of the ordinary. An unfamiliar face. An anxious stare. Eyes fixated on a watch. Especially with my former men edging dangerously close to Carrera territory.
“That’s Frankie.” He moved beside me and nodded at an older man sitting at the bar, shoveling chips and salsa in his mouth so fast I half expected him to choke. “He’s been a regular for years. Comes here every day for lunch, then drags his ass back in at night to drink himself into oblivion.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Maybe his job sucks. Maybe he’s in debt up to his eyeballs. Maybe he found out his wife’s fucking his best friend. Who knows? It’s not my business to ask.”
Before I could argue that everything happening on Carrera property was his business, he continued assaulting me with everyone’s life story.
His gaze shifted across the bar to a lone booth. “That’s Antonella Reyes. Her husband died about six months ago.”
“Emilio Reyes’s widow?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Puppy nodded, and I made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a growl. Emilio Reyes was once one of Valentin Carrera’s most trusted men. Not only did he own Caliente, but he also ran all stateside operations before becoming one of the worst traitors the cartel had ever seen.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” I fumed, staring crater-sized holes in the woman. “Why would you let her in the door, much less serve her?”
He bumped my shoulder. “Put your claws away. She wants no part of the family. She proved that by selling this place to Brody for a dollar.”
“So, why would she come back here? Is she masochistic?”
I didn’t like the pity in his eyes as he tilted his chin and studied me. “Emilio chose the wrong path, but that doesn’t erase the twenty years she spent loving the man who didn’t.”
And just because Esteban murdered my family, it doesn’t erase the twenty-four years I spent loving the man who spared me.
Yeah, yeah, I get it. You know all about me.
Good for you.
“Hey, you okay?”
I vaguely heard his voice echoing over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. When I didn’t respond, he called my name louder and louder until the fog finally dissipated.
“Adriana?”
“What? Oh, yeah.” Shaking my head, I cleared my throat and pulled myself together. “I’m fine. Long trip and too little sleep. You know how it goes.”
I diverted my attention back to the bar area then felt a strong hand on my shoulder. “Look, I know it’s none of my business—”
“You’re right. It is none of your business.” Picking up two of his fingers, I slid his hand off my shoulder. “Well, this has been fun, but I think I’ll go freshen up. Point me toward the ladies’ room?”
He offered a lackluster motion toward the left of the bar. “Down the hallway to the right.”
Stepping behind him, I dragged my suitcase off the table and gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, puppy.”
“It’s Rafael.”
“Huh?”
“You keep calling me puppy. My name is Rafael.”
“Oh, I know who you are, papi.” Smiling, I tossed him a wink before making my way down the hallway.
* * *
For once, luck seemed to be on my side.
I stood in the bathroom with my head poked outside the door, listening for the slightest sign that Rafael Suárez had changed his mind and decided to get rid of his boss’s burgeoning problem before it could wreak any more havoc.
The problem, of course, being me, and the havoc being the fact we both knew I had as much intention of freshening up as he did.
But as the minutes ticked by, other than the expected clatter of pans and dishes from the kitchen, the hallway remained silent. Either Brody’s enforcer didn’t believe I had a gun in my bag, or he had this insane notion I wouldn’t open fire in the middle of the bar.
He was wrong on both counts.
The muscles in my neck twitched, my shoulder aching under the weight of my overstuffed bag. So even though it had only been a little over five minutes, I pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway.
The darkened hallway.
I paused, surveying my surroundings and absorbing the unusual dimness. I had to admit it was a little bizarre. The rest of the cantina had plenty of windows scattered along the perimeter, and the sun was probably almost directly overhead by now. Not that the lack of light bothered me. I felt more at home in the dark. At least in the shadows, I knew what to expect.
Pain. Shame. Hate. Betrayal.
Emotions as familiar as my own skin.
It was the uncertainty of the light that terrified me. Fear of being stripped of my armor and revealed to be what I’d always fought to never become.
Weak.
The air in the na
rrow hallway seemed to thicken, and with every breath, I felt my lungs fill with water. Dropping the bag on the floor by my feet, I forced myself to calm down. This wasn’t a shitty warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Within these walls, I was no longer just a girl dealt a shitty hand in life. I was Adriana Carrera. An heiress. Sister to one of the most powerful men in the world.
And that made the light my bitch.
So instead of drowning in the past, I floated in the present, and swam toward the future. Only one person stood in my way and maneuvering around him wouldn’t be easy.
Brody and I had a river of bad blood between us. We’d toyed with each other’s lives not for the love or hate of each other, but for the love and hate of other people. I forced him to set up a man I was groomed to hate, and he unsealed records for a woman he loved enough to let go. The nobility of each act depended on who you asked. Was a motive driven by revenge any more honorable than one driven by hope?
You tell me.
Brody let everyone believe he gave Saint Eden my birth records so she’d get off her self-righteous throne and follow Val to Mexico. He was praised for swallowing his pride and urging her to wave stolen papers in Val’s face, so he’d fall at her feet in gratitude and they’d live happily ever after.
Please.
Anyone who bought his act was a fool. Humans weren’t wired for self-sacrifice, and I doubted my dear brother believed in his pure intentions any more than I did. Brody may have spent years studying the art of persuasion and even longer practicing it in a court of law, but Val and I grew up in the court of the cartel. Listening to what was said around us gave us power while finding out the things that weren’t kept us alive.
However, I had to remind myself that trust wasn’t given freely in either world. It was earned, and so far, I hadn’t given Brody much to work with. To get what I wanted, I needed him amiable and compliant. In the last forty-eight hours, I’d killed his ally, threatened him, blackmailed him, and then topped it all off by stealing his wallet and his phone.
Not exactly winning any popularity contests here.