Carrera Cartel: The Collection

by Kenborn, Cora

  I had no idea what compelled me to obey. I was a grown-ass woman not an errant child, but Val’s voice stopped me mid stride, preventing my escape from his mandatory fun.

  My grip tightened on the staircase banister. “Is something wrong?”

  “I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes. Alone.”

  Here it comes.

  Clearing my throat, I peered over my shoulder, trying to look sorry. “Look, I didn’t mean to call her a whore. It just slipped out.”

  Val squinted, his eyebrows drawing together. “What?”

  “What?” I repeated. Because everyone knew when you were about to make an ass out of yourself, the best defense was a confusing offense. The trick was to bite your bottom lip and glance to the side. It activated some repressed Neanderthal instinct in men to pat us on the head and send us back to the cave while they congratulated themselves on being rulers of the universe.

  He palmed the back of his neck, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. “What did you say?”

  Nice try, Carrera, but I can dance around in circles with you all night.

  “I said what because you said what.” Cue the lip bite. “You know, never mind.” Facing him, I waved a dismissive hand in the air. “What did you want to talk about?”

  He blinked a few times before tilting his chin sideways. “Let’s sit down.”

  The minute he turned his back, I smiled.

  Works every time.

  “Nothing good ever follows those words,” I muttered, following him into the same room we were ushered into when we arrived. Val motioned for me to sit, and I didn’t argue. Setting Brody’s empty glass on the coffee table, I sank onto the plush couch, running my hand over the expensive leather.

  Val watched me from the wet bar, quirking an eyebrow as he poured a drink. “Are you always this suspicious?”

  “Yes. Aren’t you?”

  “Point taken.” Neither of us spoke as he poured tequila into a shot glass until it almost overflowed. Picking up a second glass, he paused before pointing the mouth straight at me. “If you tell me you drink this shit over ice, I’m disowning you.”

  “First of all, you can’t disown me. You’re my brother, not my father.”

  “Oh, Adriana…” My jaw tightened at the snide way he said my name. “I can do whatever I want.”

  If he weren’t completely serious, I would’ve laughed. “Have you always had a god complex, or did it materialize with all of this?” Holding his stare, I gestured at all the pretentious excess surrounding us.

  “So, what’s the second part?”

  Biting my lip, I glanced to the side, adding in a hair twirl for good measure. “What?”

  Val smirked and wagged a finger. “Adriana, never pull the same con twice. It makes you predictable.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, I indulged your ‘confuse and deflect’ act once. Don’t insult my intelligence or test my generosity. I do have limits.”

  Limits I couldn’t afford to test right now.

  “Secondly,” I continued, glancing down at the twisted fingers in my lap. “My father—I mean, Esteban drank a lot. It turned me off to the stuff. So, thank you, but I’ll pass.”

  Val remained quiet, and I wondered if I’d crossed another one of his imaginary lines. Finally, he picked the tequila bottle up, the muscles in his neck straining as he held the neck in a tight grip. “Gran Patrón Burdeos Añejo. Our father’s favorite.” His gaze flicked from the bottle to me. “I grew up on this stuff. Had my first drink when I was nine years old. Most fathers teach their sons how to ride a bike or catch a fish at that age.” Letting out a dry laugh, he shook his head. “Mine taught me the difference between fine tequila and piss water by making me drink shots until I blacked out.”

  “Sounds like he was a real winner. Hate I missed out on that.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like the man you grew up with was Father of the Year, Adriana. He stole you from your mother’s arms.” He lifted the glass to his mouth, and just before taking a generous drink added, “Right after he put a bullet in her brain.”

  I winced, his callous summary hitting a nerve. “Don’t you think I know that?” I hissed. “That’s become my legacy. Stolen from one sadistic fuck only to be raised by another. Esteban Muñoz lied to me my entire life, and for what? To get his kicks watching me grow up to hate my own family?” I slammed my palms on either side of me against the leather, the sound echoing all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. “Do you know how confusing it is to be me, Val? Six months ago, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I would’ve shot you in the back while you walked in here. Conditioning like that doesn’t just disappear.”

  “Yet here we sit, and I’m very much alive. Why is that, sister?”

  Patronizing fuck.

  “I don’t know.” I tried to glare at him, but rippled waves masked my view. It wasn’t until I scrubbed a hand over my face that I felt the dampness.

  Oh no.

  Oblivious, Val continued berating me. “Is it because your loyalties are shifting, or because I’m still of use to you?”

  My shoulders hunched, and I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes as if reining in a tirade. “I’m already risking my life by walking in front of a firing squad tomorrow. If that doesn’t answer your question, then you can go fuck yourself. Find somebody else to insult. I’m going to bed.” In a flurry of movement, I stood, wiping my hands on my shorts.

  Val’s voice was sharp and loud. “Sit down.”

  “I prefer to stand, thanks.”

  Was that a glint of approval in his eyes? I couldn’t be sure because as quickly as it appeared it, it was gone. “Suit yourself.” Refilling his glass, he strode toward me, one step at a time, until he stood in front of me, staring at me as I stared back.

  That was when I saw it.

  The last time we met in a stash house in Houston, I’d won. I looked Valentin Carrera in the eye and recounted all the ways I’d trapped him in my web. I was too busy gloating to realize I’d been staring into a mirror.

  The war raging inside my head radiated to my fists, and I clenched them by my side. Whether he took it as a sign of insolence or not, it was Val who finally broke the silence.

  “I took a chance in allowing you to come here, against my better judgment. Against multiple better judgments. And it wasn’t only to draw information out of you.”

  I needed air. Slumping my ass against the back of his overpriced couch, I spread my arms wide, forming a tight grip on the leather. It was probably bad etiquette. Like I gave a shit.

  “I’m listening.”

  He let out a tired sigh, his iron mask slipping. “Adriana, you’re my sister. When Eden brought me the proof Brody found out about you, I didn’t know if you’d ever accept who you were. Even if you did, I had my doubts we could repair what has been broken for twenty-four years.”

  Why did everything always circle back to Eden? I glanced at Val, the words sitting on the tip of my tongue. But as much as I longed to say them, I swallowed them. Today I suffered alone. Tomorrow, I made no promises.

  Instead, I offered an alternate truth. “You have no idea what it’s like to suddenly find yourself alone in the world without a damn person to care if you live or die.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “What?”

  He shifted his weight, his eyes not quite meeting mine. “I came to Houston to get away from our father, Adriana. As far as I was concerned, he was dead long before he took his last breath. But the damage had been done. He succeeded in turning me into the same heartless bastard he’d been. So, I lived in isolation.”

  “To protect yourself?”

  His laugh made my skin crawl. “No, to protect everyone else. Alejandro Carrera created a beast, and it feasted on the pain of others. It controlled me. It smelled fear and hungered to hear their screams.” Palming the back of his neck, Val turned away, pacing the room as he spoke. “I’m not a good man, Adriana. I know a se
at in hell awaits me, for the things I’ve done. But that beast?” He shook his head, his hand slipping from his neck to the collar of his black button up shirt. “It wasn’t just criminal,” he said, unbuttoning the first two buttons. “It was demonic. It craved the blood of the innocent.”

  “What did you do?” I had to know because the beast he spoke of was an entity grown and cultivated by the very culture of a life centered around death. I knew because I fought the same one.

  He dragged his hand across his mouth. “I did the only thing I could do. I starved it. I built a fortress of solitude around myself, and I still felt it clawing at my chest.”

  “But how did you beat it?”

  “Beat it?” His lips twisted in a sardonic smile, and he huffed out a breath. “It’s still with me. You can’t slay a dragon when you’re the one breathing its fire.”

  “But how—”

  “Eden.” The moment the word is out of his mouth, his whole demeanor changed. “She crashed into my life and refused to let me shut her out. She was the first person to look the beast in the eye and tell it to go fuck itself.”

  “You really love her, don’t you?” It was the same question I asked Brody.

  “Love her?” Val dipped his chin, a piece of midnight black hair escaping his slicked back style. “I refuse to live without her.” Raking his hands through his hair, he forced the errant chunk back in line. “You’ll find someone who won’t run from your beast too, Adriana.”

  Not in this lifetime. That took trust, and trust took time, and that was something I didn’t have to offer.

  “Is that all?”

  Val stiffened, the brother fading as the ruthless king reared his head. “No. I want to discuss what’s expected of you on your trip to Guadalajara.”

  “Ah, yes, where I prove my worth.” I rocked back on my heels and shoved my hands in my pockets. “Well, let’s hear it.”

  “I don’t have to tell you what the Muñoz Cartel has done to our family in the past. Another cartel war not only weakens our hold on our ports and distribution channels, it causes unnecessary bloodshed I don’t need. Whoever is restructuring your former soldiers is good, I’ll give him that. I’ve had my best men and associates pulling intel and they’ve come up with nothing.”

  “And they won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  I considered a straightforward answer, but having the upper hand felt too good. Plus, I wanted to push his buttons a little just to see how he’d react. “Because I know how these men think. Muñoz soldiers care nothing about order and protocol. Your wife murdered their leader, and your lieutenant exposed their queen as a fraud. They’re blind ants in a constant state of anarchy who’d follow the great and powerful Oz if he promised to avenge what they lost.” Emboldened, I poked a finger against his chest. “Let me be clear. His name is Ignacio, but it could be Francois for all they care.”

  Val’s face darkened. “You need to back up and remember who you’re talking to.”

  “There he is.” I smirked. “The real Valentin Carrera. The one who hates me. Nice to finally meet you, sir.”

  “Dios mío, would you stop being so fucking dramatic,” he growled, batting my hand off his chest. “I don’t understand some of the things you’ve done, but you’re my sister, Adriana. I don’t hate you.”

  “Your wife hates me.”

  “Eden is protective, that’s all.” He stared at me as if those five words wiped the slate clean.

  They didn’t.

  “We had quite the chat earlier. Did she tell you that? The one where she barged into Brody’s room to accuse me of murdering her family.”

  “Didn’t you?” It wasn’t a question.

  “Sure, take her side.”

  Val chuckled on his way back to the bar. “You two are more alike than either of you will admit. Both of you were deceived by the one person who was supposed to always protect you. You both lost your brothers to a war that should’ve never escalated to the point it did. You’re both headstrong, stubborn women with too much pride and not enough tolerance. But mostly, you’re both survivors.”

  “I’m assuming there will be a point made eventually in this rousing speech?”

  He poured his drink, and I held my breath as he sauntered toward me. Taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted it up, forcing me to look up at him. “Tell yourself you’re here to prove your worth and stake your claim in this family. Make up whatever excuse you need to in order to justify why you’re really here.”

  “And why am I here?”

  “To face your fear of isolation.”

  I jerked my chin out of his hold, my fingers curling around the back of the couch. “That’s bullshit.”

  “It goes against everything you know to hand over control to me, Adriana, yet here you are. You and I, we live in a world of lies. Narcos don’t trust easily, but when we give it, it’s unwavering. To be honest, the real power begins the moment you and my wife stand on the same side of the battle line.” Raising his drink, he winked before downing the whole thing. Without another word, he turned, and I stared openmouthed at his back as it rounded the corner and disappeared.

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Adriana

  I’d never sat on a throne before.

  It wasn’t comfortable, but then again, we were criminals. Comfort led to complacency which opened the door to weakness. But this one suited me, and the moment I leaned against the black velvet, I felt at home here.

  Wherever here was.

  The room held nothing but silence. Stagnant, metallic-scented smoke clouded around me, close enough to lick my skin while maintaining a thin level of restraint. I should’ve feared it. I was always taught where there was smoke, there was fire, but this was my throne.

  I was invincible.

  Besides, if there were a fire, I would’ve already been consumed by flames.

  “You craved the blood of the innocent.”

  My heart slammed against my chest, and I gripped the chair until my arms shook. I knew that voice, but I couldn’t remember why. All I knew was that the soft melodic cadence didn’t belong in my circle of hell. “Who’s there?”

  In response, the temperature plummeted, and the short, ragged breaths torn from my lungs materialized in front of me as a labored mist. The smoke didn’t part, and she didn’t walk through it, but a dark-haired woman in a white flowing dress emerged, almost as if they were two combined entities. When she lifted her head, I stared into familiar warm chocolate eyes dotted with gold.

  Mother.

  It was an illusion. The human eye was nothing but a passive slave to the brain’s whims. The mind was a sadistic bastard, easily tricking it into seeing whatever it wanted.

  “Was it worth it?” Raising a hand, she pointed toward my chest. My eyes followed her finger, trailing down to the source of that pungent metallic smell. Every part of me was covered in blood. But it wasn’t mine.

  “They were all guilty,” I said, offering an emotionless stare to the death lying at my feet. “They hurt me. They deserved this.”

  “Not all of them.” Her haunted eyes lowered directly in front of the base of the throne. I really didn’t have time to play games with her, but I leaned forward to humor her.

  Then I screamed.

  Two tiny hands. Two tiny feet. Two dark and empty eyes begging me why.

  My stomach roiled, and the world spun as their burned and bloodied bodies lay tattered before me, their innocent faces frozen in fear.

  “No!” I screamed again. “I would never hurt a child! I only took revenge on those who hurt me so I could kill the beast!”

  “Cariño, you can’t slay a dragon when you’re the one breathing its fire.”

  My eyes popped open at the familiar words, only to look into the cold eyes of my brother. “Val?” His name broke as the bravado I’d held onto came crashing down around me.

  “Pity that it was all for nothing,”
he taunted, baring his teeth in a chilling smile while nodding at my bloody clothes. “It appears the dragon doesn’t need you anymore.”

  “What?” I looked down to find a gaping hole in my stomach. “No!” I cried as I pressed both hands over the wound in a pathetic attempt to stop the bleeding, but it pumped out faster than I could stop it.

  I slumped against my throne, a damned queen living her inevitable truth. As more blood spilled, I grew weaker. With my last breath, I turned to face my brother, but he was gone. In his place the glowing tip of a cigar sparked to life and a man’s cheeks sank in as he sucked a few deep puffs.

  Leaning down, his weathered face split into a stained smile. “You’re a Carrera whore.”

  I sat up and screamed his name until I was hoarse, thrashing against a cocoon of sheets and blankets. Caught between two worlds, I desperately clawed my way out of hell, the image of his smile shoving me to near hysteria.

  “Adriana!”

  I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  There was a groan, and fire ignited behind my eyes. “Jesus Christ, Adriana! Wake up!”

  Brody?

  Brightness burned my eyes the minute they cracked open, and my body felt like it had gone twelve rounds in an octagon. Fighting the urge to lash out, I shielded a hand over my eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the invasion. When the spots finally cleared, I scanned the room only to find it empty.

  “Over here, genius.”

  Suddenly wide awake, I turned toward the sound of his voice with both barrels loaded only to stare openmouthed at what stood in the doorway.

  Brody had both hands over his head, palms splayed and braced against the side molding. His sleepy face was framed by what could only be described as wild and chaotic sex hair. Yet again, he was shirtless, his arm position accentuating every toned muscle. Loose fitting sleep pants hung low on his waist—untied, of course, because, why not. But tied or untied, loose fit or suctioned with a vacuum seal—none of it mattered. Nothing on Earth would hide the imprint resting on his right thigh.

  “See something you like?”

  My head snapped up so fast, I about gave myself whiplash. “What the hell are you doing in my room?”