Carrera Cartel: The Collection

by Kenborn, Cora

I met his eyes. “And I know how to find her.”

  “Well, then let’s go get her—”

  “Sorry, Vergara. No hard feelings, but I’ll take it from here.” Drawing my arm back, I punched him and watched him hit the ground.

  Adriana only needed one hero, and he’d waited long enough to save the queen.

  * * *

  Adriana’s reverse trail of breadcrumbs led me into a labyrinth of twists, turns, and dead ends. I blindly followed a maze with no beginning and no end, and what pissed me off the most was that I had no doubt Ignacio was somewhere watching all of it.

  Adriana and Santiago were running out of time, and I was done indulging Vergara’s mind games. If Ignacio wanted to play in Valentin Carrera’s league, he needed to stand at the plate and swing instead of hiding behind the batter.

  So, I tightened my grip on my gun and did the one thing that went against everything I’d been taught. I stepped in front of the bullet instead of firing it.

  “Adriana!” I called out, my voice echoing in the dark and deserted hallway. Pausing, I waited, listening for any sign of a response.

  Nothing.

  “Adriana!” This time, I didn’t hold back, running full force while yelling her name over and over. “Fuck!” Turning around, I took two steps back down the same hallway I’d walked half a dozen times when the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the back of my head.

  “You look lost, pendejo.” One of Ignacio’s followers ripped my gun from my hand and pressed it against my back.

  “What can I say? The service around this place sucks.”

  “Walk,” he commanded, pushing the muzzles of both guns against me.

  I tried to pay attention to each twist and turn, but every wall looked the same. By the time we came to a stop in front of a large steel door, it felt like we went in another damn circle. He knocked twice, and a gravelly Spanish accent sounding like rusty nails on a bullet-ridden chalkboard answered.

  “Tráemelo.” Bring him to me.

  My brain fired electric shocks at the familiarity I knew shouldn’t be there. I knew the voice. I’d heard it in person. On the phone. Enabling me. Pushing me.

  Informing me.

  As soon as the guard opened the door, I took the steps on my own, my fists clenching. No one had to force me inside. I didn’t care if I walked straight into a bullet. I knew exactly whose gun waited on the other side.

  And after all he’d done, that Colombian motherfucker had better shoot to kill.

  He stood behind a metal chair at the back of a simple folding table. I didn’t know what I expected, a throne maybe? Definitely not some back-alley thrift store setup.

  However, my mouth went dry the moment my eyes landed on what was in front of him.

  “Brody…”

  Adriana sat in the chair, with what looked to be a nine-inch blade pressed against her throat. She was pale and covered in blood, but she was here. I wanted to close my eyes and savor the sound of my name on her lips, but I couldn’t show weakness. So, I held her eye, making sure she felt what I couldn’t say.

  I raised my eyes to meet the man holding the knife, his top lip curled up, his gray goatee framing a smirk I’d wanted to punch off his face for weeks. “Harcourt, I’d welcome you, but it seems you’ve welcomed yourself, not to mention made somewhat of a mess in my warehouse.”

  I shot him a deadpanned look. “Carlos, or should I call you Ignacio? Which name do you prefer these days?”

  He brought a lit cigar to his mouth with his free hand, ignoring me while puffing on the end. Blowing out a cloud of smoke, he swung a cold stare my way. “King.”

  “Fuck you.”

  The barrel of a gun pressed against the back of my head. “Want me to shoot him now, boss?”

  Ignacio waved a hand. “Leave us.”

  The pressure against my skull lessened. “Are you sure? I don’t think…”

  Ignacio rolled his eyes. “I don’t pay you to think.” Dropping his cigar, he stomped it out with his shoe. Before I knew what was happening, he reached for a gun, aimed it at my head, and pulled the trigger.

  All I could do was blink, waiting for the inevitable white pain of the bullet or the darkness of death. Neither happened. A heavy thud hit the floor, and I turned to see the guard lying on the concrete, half his face blown off.

  Ignacio let out an annoyed sigh. “Good help is hard to find.”

  I didn’t have time to think about what just happened. Steeling my expression, I stepped out of the blood pooling under my shoe and made my way closer to the man who’d turned my life into a living hell. I had so many accusations. So many threats. So many questions. However, I couldn’t stop myself from asking the main one burning on my tongue.

  “Why the act?”

  He shrugged. “Entertainment? Come on, Harcourt, you had all the pieces. You were just too stupid to put them together. I toyed with you. I even told you Ignacio Vergara was Colombian after you and this whore visited my mother, remember?”

  Jesus. All the information I gave him. It made me sick.

  “How long have you operated on the sidelines, Carlos?”

  “Long enough. I’ve watched all of you, but nobody bothered to see me. Nobody thought I’d have the cojones to come from behind and sink my teeth into both cartels’ jugulars.”

  “Because you’re a coward.”

  “You’re nothing in my world, gringo. I’ve been under your nose the whole time, and you never saw it. Plain sight, remember? I told you it was the last place people ever looked.”

  Plain sight. Two words that took me back to a Chicago strip club. The defining moment that set everything in motion.

  A tense breath whistled through his teeth, and another line creased his forehead before a slow smile parted his lips. “The man’s name is José Rojas. I don’t know how much you can find out from that, but that’s all I got. We both know their reach extends far beyond border walls. They’ve already infiltrated Chicago. If you ask me—”

  “I didn’t.”

  The smile on his face faded, irritation flaring in his eyes. “If you ask me, whoever has the balls to rebuild is hiding in plain sight. It’s the last place people ever look.”

  Ignacio pocketed the gun, his hearty laugh drawing my attention back to his smug face. “You fell right into my trap because you’re weak. You were so fucked up in the head wanting to defy Carrera all I had to do was give you the nudge.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “But Leo Pinellas—”

  He growled, digging the knife deeper into Adriana’s neck, and the words died on my tongue at her sharp inhale. “I’ve been planning this for months, you stupid pendejo! Leo Pinellas was a puppet just like the rest of you. Who do you think was in his ear telling him to give you the goods on her?” He tightened his hold on the knife, and a tear rolled down Adriana’s cheek. “I knew what you’d do with it. I planned on it. I knew Carrera would be weaker without that Lachey bitch, but you couldn’t even close that deal, could you?”

  Blinding rage shattered my control. “Shut up!”

  I was coming unhinged, and the sick son of a bitch seemed to enjoy it. An assumption proved when, with a flick of his wrist, Adriana cried out, and a trickle of blood rolled down her neck.

  “You’re being disrespectful, boy.”

  “Touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

  He held my eye and laughed. “She led your dick around on a leash, and you’re ready to die for her. How pathetic.”

  Letting out a roar, I didn’t think. I charged. The instinct to protect her overpowered the need to keep her close. “Adriana, run!”

  “Brody, no!”

  My body snapped back as another arm wrapped around my neck pulling me back. “Let me go, asshole!”

  Ignacio chuckled. “Run? She was with me all along, you fool. She told you as much in that piece of shit motel room, but you were too stupid to listen.”

  “Shipment for seventeen million, right? Disappeared near the Chicago port? Brody open you
r eyes. Every contact you have is being turned. You can’t trust anyone. Not your friends, not your contacts, and certainly not your informants.”

  “Not even you?”

  “Especially not me. I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  I turned a conflicted stare toward a wide-eyed Adriana.

  Panic flashed across her bruised face. “He’s lying! Yes, he offered me a deal, but I was telling you the truth when I said I accepted just to get away from him. I always planned to bring him down. I didn’t care who I was...Marisol Muñoz, Adriana Carrera, I told him, and I told you—I bow to no one. Whatever I did it would be on my own terms.” She glared up at Ignacio. “Not yours.”

  “So, she went after you herself. How touching.”

  “You set me up,” she shot back. “I had no choice.”

  Keeping his eyes on me, Ignacio smiled and leaned down to press a kiss against her temple. “Is this where you tell your lover that when I made my offer you were hiding out with my son?”

  Chapter Forty

  Adriana

  The question on Brody’s face hurt worse than any knife. “You were with Cristiano?”

  “It wasn’t like that! I had no idea Cris was his son!”

  A laugh reverberated behind me. A sick and twisted laugh I felt in my soul. “You believe that?”

  “Shut up!” I hissed. He was messing with my head, but my nerves were raw, and my body battered. I searched the tortured hazel eyes I’d come to know so well. “Brody, everything I’ve said to you is real. That kiss was real. I know you felt it.”

  Behind me, Ignacio groaned. “I know what I feel, and it’s boredom. Deshazte de él,” he commanded, and the new guard grabbed Brody from behind. Get rid of him.

  The guard gave a slight nod in acknowledgment and shoved a gun against the back of Brody’s head. But he fought back, a dead resolve in his eyes that set everything in motion and tore one word from my throat.

  “No!” Ignacio was at the end of his rope, and I knew neither of us had much time. So, fighting against the haze, I jerked against him, the blade digging deeper into my skin. “Don’t hurt him! Do whatever you want to me but let him go!”

  Ignacio’s arms tightened around me, dragging me up from the chair to a standing position. “Are you still trying to win? I can appreciate that kind of fortitude, and if I were a patient man, I’d watch you kill yourself slowly, but you’ve proven to be somewhat of a pain in my ass.”

  Thick fingers grabbed my cheek, squeezing until I tasted blood. The harder he squeezed, the more Brody fought. Lights dimmed, and blackness swarmed in from the edges of my peripheral vision. More silent words fell from my restrained mouth until the crack of a gunshot gave them sound.

  A scream of loss and heartbreak tore out of me as I closed my eyes and prayed for the knife to sink hard and fast.

  “Let her go and face me like a man.”

  My eyes flew open to find Brody standing in front of me, gun in his hand and the slumped body of the guard on the floor behind him. I didn’t know what to feel first—relief or fear. I wanted to tell him to save me. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to tell him I’d never leave him.

  Instead, the words that fell out of my mouth told him goodbye. “Brody, go find Santi, please. Find him and take him back to Val and Eden.”

  “No! I’m not leaving you here.”

  “You made me love you, and now I’m lost.” I choked out. “That’s what me hiciste amarte, y ahora estoy perdida means. That’s what I said after I told you I loved you. But I was wrong, Brody. I didn’t lose my way when I fell for you. I found it.”

  I’d been strong this whole time, but time wasn’t a luxury I had anymore. Desperation overtook me, and although I hated myself for it, I used Brody’s own words against him. “No one was there to save me when he tore me out of my mother’s arms. I’ll never forgive you if you let Santi suffer the same fate. You promised me. You told me you wouldn’t make me regret kissing you, and I believed you. I told Val you’d never hurt me. Please don’t make me a liar.”

  The pain in his face destroyed me. “Who’s going to save you?”

  All those nights we confessed our truths, the one I needed him to infer on his own was the one he never heard.

  “I told you. No one can save me.”

  Stepping forward as much as the blade allowed, I kicked backward, landing a hard heel between Ignacio’s legs. He let out a grunt, and the pressure against my neck lessened just enough that I managed to land an elbow into his ribcage. Grabbing onto his wrist with both hands, I spun around, both of us fighting for the knife.

  “Time to die, pinche puta!” He shoved downward with a hard twist of his wrist.

  “You first, asshole!” Chaos ensued as a second shot rang out, and pain slashed through my body, shredding every fiber into frayed threads. Ignacio’s eyes widened just before he collapsed in a lifeless heap onto the concrete.

  I felt like I’d slipped underwater. Everything sounded muffled and waves rippled across my vision. Arms circled around me, holding me tight as hands pressed tightly against my middle. My mouth tasted bitter, and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and sleep.

  “Adriana! Oh, God, no!”

  A child’s cry floated somewhere above the surface, and my lips parted in a weak smile. “I broke the cycle.”

  Then everything went dark, and I sank to the bottom of the sea.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Brody

  Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico

  The tiny waiting room got smaller by the minute. There wasn’t enough room to pace, and if someone didn’t give me an update soon, I’d tear this place apart with my bare hands. Every time I passed Leighton, she pursed her lips, which I returned with a glare.

  I was stalking around a hospital in blood-soaked clothes, but no matter how many disapproving looks I got, I refused to change. This was her blood. The only part of her I had with me, and I’d be damned if I’d let it go.

  I glanced at the clock and ran my hand through my hair. We’d been here over three hours. Three hours since I fired the bullet that severed Ignacio Vergara’s jugular. Three hours since I realized I was a second too late. Three hours since Val walked in with Santi in his arms to find Adriana in mine. Three hours since she slipped away from me.

  Three hours since everyone filtered into this piece of shit waiting room to hear if Adriana was alive or dead. I shifted a glance to the corner where a man sat by himself, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

  Val’s hand landed on my shoulder. “It’s a hard pill to swallow, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  He lifted a paper cup filled with coffee toward the man in the corner. “Your pride. Cristiano was with Adriana before you met her. They have a history. You want to hate him for it, but he just risked his life to save hers, knowing her heart belongs to another man.” Tipping the cup, he took a sip, giving me a side-eyed glance. “Sound familiar?”

  I sighed. “Does the jealousy ever go away?”

  “No. We’re men. We’re hardwired to protect what’s ours when we think it’s being threatened. But with time, you learn to trust in what you have and the person you’re with. In the end, you have to remember that, yes, there was someone before you, but despite the stupid shit he pulled to get her back, and regardless of how bad you fucked up, she chose you.”

  I gave him a quick glance. “Are we still talking about me?

  Val didn’t answer. He just smiled and clapped me on the back. “Sometimes your worst enemies become your strongest allies, Harcourt. You helped me find my son. That’s twice you’ve saved the people I love most in this world. Anything you want is yours.”

  I exhaled, the ache in my chest deepening. “I want a miracle.”

  His fingers tightened on my shoulder. “Never count a Carrera out. When we want something, we fight for it.”

  He walked away before I could say anything else, but it was just as well. My attention was already redirected. Letting out anothe
r breath, I walked across the room to make my worst enemy my strongest ally.

  Cristiano glanced up, his gaze suspicious as I sat next to him. “I’m sorry about your father.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Look, believe it or not, I know what it’s like to find out you’re the son of a psychopath.” That earned me a raised eyebrow, and I shook my head. “Long story for another day.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m glad he’s dead,” he said, his jaw ticking with repressed rage. “The world’s better off.”

  I believed him. It took balls to come here knowing whose blood flowed through his veins. I had to respect that. “I know that feeling too. Listen, I want to thank you for what you did.”

  “I didn’t do it for you.”

  “Christ, can you knock that chip off your shoulder? I’m trying to extend an olive branch here.”

  He started to say something, then flattened his lips, silence sitting between us like a rock. Finally, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Is there any news?”

  My pride yelled at me to drive my fist in his face and walk away, but Val’s words kept echoing in my head.

  “You want to hate him for it, but he just risked his life to save hers knowing her heart belongs to another man.”

  So instead, I did the opposite. I swallowed my pride, proving I earned Adriana’s kiss. “Not yet, but you should come sit with the family. Val will be the first person they tell.”

  He sat up, his eyebrows bunched in confusion. “With the Carreras? I’m a Muñoz.”

  I chuckled and clasped him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll burst into flames. But if you do, we’re in a hospital. Besides, you could stand some scarring, pretty boy.”

  * * *

  “¿La familia de Adriana Carrera?”

  Six heads popped up followed by twelve feet hitting the floor. My heart dropped as a man dressed in scrubs stood in front of us, his dark skin weathered and wrinkled.