by Lisa Cardiff
“I’m not sure.” I dropped my gaze to the floor unable to meet Raul’s eyes. “I don’t feel so good. My mind is really fuzzy.”
Enrique’s leg shot out, connecting with the side of Raul’s knee. Raul flew sideways and tumbled to the ground hip first. He rolled onto his side, clutching his left leg. Pain lined his already winkled face.
My stomach pitched, and bile climbed the walls of my throat, coating my tongue with acid.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, through trembling lips.
Enrique yanked his gun from the holster at his waist and planted his black boot in the middle of Raul’s chest. “I’ll make this really simple. I’m going to shoot one of you,” he said, his onyx eyes boring into me with the force of a laser.
My eyes bugged. “No,” I begged as I scrambled to my feet. I staggered forward, trying to escape, but the chains jolted me backward like a retractable dog leash. “Please don’t. Leave us alone. I didn’t escape.”
Enrique cackled like a hyena, and I had the urge to claw out his vacant eyes. “Ah, that’s cute, Miss Covington, but whose life are you pleading for? Yours? Or his?”
“Both,” I said immediately. “I’ll put the shackle back on my arm and we can forget this whole thing.” I grabbed the chain with my free hand, wrapping the metal cuff around my wrist. It squeezed my swollen, misshapen flesh. “I’m not going anywhere. No harm was done. Let’s forget this happened.”
Enrique waved the gun between Raul and me. “No. It’s too late. What’s done is done. Don’t prolong the inevitable. You have a choice to make. Will you be a martyr or a murderer?”
“Neither.” My legs were rooted to the floor.
“Wrong answer, Miss Covington. Try again.” Rolling his eyes, he tapped the barrel of his gun against his thigh. “Who will it be? You or him?”
My gaze collided with Raul’s. I searched his face for a clue. His eyes darkened momentarily, then a mask of nothingness slipped into place.
“I don’t have all fucking day. You have five seconds to decide, or I’ll kill you both,” he growled.
“Please, don’t do this. Nobody needs to get hurt,” I said, my body trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm.
“Five.”
The number bounced off the cement walls, and I bit the inside of my cheek until blood tainted my mouth.
“Four.”
Air burst from my lungs.
“Three.”
My vision swirled, and I closed my eyes so I didn’t collapse on the floor. Enrique ensnared me in a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up.
“Two.”
“Him,” I screamed as my stomach plummeted.
Pop!
A gunshot exploded, ringing in my ears. My heart stopped for a frozen second. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Time fractured.
“Good choice, Miss Covington,” Enrique said. “I was starting to question your sanity.”
I pried my eyes open. Raul’s lifeless body was sprawled out on the floor. Inky blood spilled from a hole in the center of his forehead. Vacant eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. His lips were lax. Blood splattered the ground behind him like an experiment in modern art.
Sobs bubbled from my lips. I was a murderer. I chose my life over his. He wanted to help me, and I repaid him by ordering his death. I wanted to curl up and die. I deserved to die. I was evil. Ice crystals formed in my veins. I gagged and swallowed simultaneously, fighting back my nausea, but it didn’t work. Chunks of the watermelon and white rice reversed course, spraying my sneakers.
“Why?” I cried as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Tremors conquered my body one muscle at a time until my entire body shook.
“Because I didn’t have a choice.” He pulled a white cloth out of his back pocket and tossed it in my direction. “Have a good night, Miss Covington.”
“Are you going to do something with his…?” My voice faded to silence, and I angled my head toward Raul’s body.
“No. I thought you’d enjoy some company.” He laughed. “I’ll think of a way for you to show your gratitude later.” Enrique turned and strutted out of the room, slamming and locking the door. I could hear him humming as he walked down the hall to whatever hell he came from.
I slid down the wall and covered my face. Guilt consumed me inch by inch, creating a crater-sized hole in my stomach. I couldn’t look at Raul’s lifeless eyes. I felt like I had an anchor attached to my ankle pulling into pool of quicksand. I was drowning.
Drowning in guilt.
Drowning in self-pity.
Drowning in pain.
Drowning in heartache.
I didn’t even know if I wanted to be saved.
Chapter Four
Ryker
“You think she’s here?” I pointed at the pictures covering Ignacio’s desk.
“I’m eighty percent certain that’s where she’s being held,” Emanuel responded, lacing his fingers together on top of Ignacio’s desk.
I snagged one of the pictures off the desk and studied the dilapidated, two-story, white stucco building. Black crisscrossed bars covered all of the windows. Twisting green vines crawled up the columns bracketing the faded wood front door. Glass blocks spaced every couple of feet circled the bottom of the first story of the home in a linear pattern, indicating the home had a cellar or a basement.
Seventy-two hours had passed since the Alvarez Cartel abducted Hattie. The deadline for returning Anna Alvarez had officially expired. Juan had threatened to dismember her part by part after the deadline, starting with her fingernails and moving on from there. Rage simmered in my gut at the thought. If he or any of his minions hurt her, I’d kill every last one of them and tear them to pieces with my bare hands.
“I need to know for sure. If we show up at this place and she’s not there, they’ll find out and kill her.”
Emanuel licked his lower lip and looked away. “You’re right, but this is all the information I’ve got right now, and I don’t think I’ll receive new intel any time soon.”
I crumbled the picture and tossed it on the desk. “What happened to your informant? You said he’d know her exact location by now.”
He rolled his shoulders. “I haven’t heard from him in over a day.”
“Is that normal?”
“No,” he answered without elaborating. “But it’s not entirely unexpected either.”
I massaged the back of my neck. “Should we be worried?” Every hellish second that elapsed without seeing Hattie made the anxiety festering inside of me corkscrew tighter and tighter around my chest until I could barely take another breath.
“It’s not a good sign.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s probably dead.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Do you think Juan Alvarez knows he was working for us?”
He lifted and dropped one shoulder. “He knows we have informants inside his organization just like we know he has them inside the Vargas Cartel. It’s irrelevant.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“In drug cartels, there is no such thing as loyalty. Money and power are the only things that matter. People are loyal to whoever pays them the most. Juan understands that. He expects it. We all do. Even Ignacio.”
I leaned over, bracing my hands on the desk. “And what about you? Are you loyal? Or are you following wherever the money leads you?”
Emanuel brushed invisible lint from his shirt. “What are you trying to say? I’ve worked for your father since you were in diapers. I have done everything he’s asked of me and more.”
“What makes you different from the rest? Can Ignacio trust you? Can I trust you?”
His eyes hardened, then he waved his hand dismissively. “I’m different.”
“How?” I snapped.
“Because I don’t want anything else. I don’t have a wife or kids, and I don’t want them. I have more money than I’ll spend in this lifetime. Ignacio values my opinion, and I don’t have a t
arget on my back like he does. I don’t envy him, and I sure as hell don’t want to be him or take his job.”
“So if Ignacio died tomorrow, you wouldn’t break out the champagne and designate yourself as the newest drug lord?”
He licked his lips. “No. I’d welcome Rever or you with open arms. Hopefully you, because we both know Rever wouldn’t last a month. Everyone knows his weaknesses. Women. Gambling. Drugs.” He waved his hand. “You, on the other hand, are a wildcard. Nobody would know what to expect, but anything is better than Rever. He’s a disaster.”
I studied him, searching for any signs of duplicity, but his face didn’t reveal anything. My shoulders slumped. Either he was being honest or he had a first-rate poker face. “Fair enough.”
Staring out the window, I turned my back to him. Shadows from the trees danced on the creamy marble floors. Terraced gardens filled with colorful flowers dotted the wall of green foliage. Was Hattie looking outside through a barred window in that white stucco prison waiting for me to come and find her? Had she given up on me or was she in too much pain to care? Did she hate me? Did she regret letting me back in her life?
I shook my head. I couldn’t dwell on any of it. I had to rescue her and get her the hell away from Mexico and this shitty life. Everything happened for a reason. Maybe her kidnapping was the universe’s way of telling me that Hattie and I weren’t meant to be together. That we’d never be together. That we could never be a family. With or without the Vargas Cartel, I was a liability. One that Hattie and our baby didn’t need or deserve.
“Okay,” I said, whirling around to face Emanuel. “Let’s plan this mission. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t know how long Hattie will last.”
Emanuel nodded. “She could already be dead. You do realize that, right?”
My heart stuttered, and the pungent ache of guilt mixed with regret knotted my insides. “She’s not,” I said with more certainty than I felt at the moment. Images of Hattie’s bruised and battered body drifted to the forefront of my mind.
I lifted the decanter from the desk and poured a glass of whatever Ignacio had. I didn’t give a shit. I needed alcohol to settle my nerves and take the edge off the anxiety flapping in my gut like a bunch of rabid bats.
I tossed back the entire glass of tequila in one swallow, forcing thoughts of Hattie from my mind. The liquid burned my throat, and my eyes watered.
“Tell me what you’ve planned so far,” I said, slamming the glass on top of the desk.
Emanuel tipped up his chin, his eyes tight. “Pour me one of those, too.”
My hands shook, and my pulse hammered against the base of my throat as I poured another glass of tequila. The liquid splashed over the rim onto a stack of papers. Dammit. I needed to get my emotions under control. Worrying about the future and things out of my control wouldn’t save Hattie.
“Here,” I slid the low-ball glass engraved with a V across the smooth desktop.
He nodded his thanks. “There’s only one access point into this safe house. It’s a one lane dirt road.” Emanuel traced a faint brown line through the jungle on a satellite image of the house where he suspected Hattie was being held.
“I see that.”
“According to our source, they have guards stationed at the base of the road and in front of the house, but no one along the sides or the back.”
Squinting, I leaned forward. “So that’s the weak spot. We’ll attack from the rear.”
“Or by the air.”
My eyebrows crawled up my forehead. “No. Absolutely not. We’d announce our arrival. They’d kill Hattie by the time we landed. We need to hike through the jungle and approach from the rear.” I tapped my finger on the aerial picture. “How far is this road from the safe house?”
Emanuel took a sip of his tequila. “A mile or two, maybe more.”
“Then, we’ll have our convoy drop us there and we’ll hike up during the night.”
“It’s not an easy hike. There’s no trail. It’s straight uphill. Thick vegetation with lots of rocks. The guys will be too tired to fight by the time they reach the safe house.”
“This isn’t an easy job,” I countered. “Hiking is better than having them shoot down our helicopter before we can get boots on the ground.”
He spun his glass in circles on the table. Waves of tequila lapped over the side. “That all sounds good if this were a military operation. Not a lot of our guys are trained for a mission like this. We need people with experience and endurance.”
“How many members have solid military or police training?”
“Members that are available on short notice?”
“Yes,” I snapped, flexing my hands.
He cocked his head to the side. “Five. Maybe less. A lot of the members are former farmers or recovering drug addicts. I won’t pull people from Ignacio’s personal guard, and compromise his safety to rescue your girlfriend.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets to stop myself from hurting him. “What about the Americans? Does Ignacio have any Americans on the payroll or people he’s used on a contract basis in the past?”
He blinked a few times, then shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,” I sneered. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Just like every other drug cartel, Ignacio uses US military veterans for special tasks. I’d like a few of them to join me.”
I could call some freelance operatives I’d met over the last five years, but that would take time. Time I didn’t have. I needed people who were already in Mexico and were familiar with the nuts and bolts of drug cartels. I didn’t want to bring in some guy who usually worked with the Russians or the Jihadists. Every criminal entity had a different personality. Different priorities. Granted, greed and power were at the center of all criminal organizations regardless of whether they hid behind the veil of religious zeal, political ideology or flat out materialism. But I didn’t want to waste time briefing someone on the intricacies of the Mexican drug cartels. I needed people already up to speed and familiar with the Vargas and Alvarez Cartels.
He leaned back in his chair, propping his hands behind his head. “He’s used a few independent contractors hired on a job by job basis.”
“Great. Hire them for this job.”
His left eye twitched. “These things take time. I’ll need a week to work out the details. Maybe more. It depends on their availability.”
“We don’t have a week. Double their standard rate. Make it worth their time.”
Emanuel shifted in his seat, and our eyes locked. “I’ll have to get Ignacio’s approval.”
“Then get it. I don’t care about the money. I’ll pay the difference.” I slammed my open palm on the table, knocking over my glass. It rolled onto the floor, exploding into tiny slivers as it collided with the tiles. “Offer whatever it takes to get the right people here.”
He blew out a breath as he ran his hands through his hair. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. I know a couple guys who used to be in the Marines. They only take a few jobs a year. They might be compelled to accept this one if I tell them we’re trying to rescue the daughter of a high profile politician.”
“Don’t reveal her identity until after they accept the job,” I said.
His bushy brows knitted together. “Why not? We can use it in our favor.”
“I don’t want this incident to follow Hattie for the rest of her life. Being abducted by a drug cartel once is a tragedy. Two times would make her a circus sideshow.”
“Why does it matter what people know? According to Ignacio, you’re staying here to help him now, so she’ll be here too.”
A wave of guilt rippled through me as I poured another glass of tequila. “No. I’m putting her on the first plane back to the US. I’m done with her. I need to get her out of my life. She’s a distraction I can’t afford. Not anymore.”
“All this for a woman you don’t want anymore.” The corners of his mouth curled up in a stomach-turning
grin. “Interesting.”
My lips flattened. I didn’t care what Ignacio said about Emanuel. He rubbed me the wrong way. Unfortunately, I still needed him, so I refrained from planting my fist in the dead center of his smug face.
“What the fuck is your point?” Hattie’s absence in my life would be hard. I didn’t need to explain myself to this asshole. She’d given me something nobody had. Unconditional love and acceptance, and now I had to throw it all back in her face. She wouldn’t leave willingly. I’d have to break every promise I’d made to her and shatter her heart in the process.
He held up his hands in mock surrender even as his eyes glittered with anger. “Nothing. It’s not my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Against my better judgment, I downed another glass of tequila and grabbed the decanter. “When can we make our move?”
“Give me an hour to make some calls and if everything falls into place, we’ll be ready to launch our attack in the next few days.”
I opened the door to Ignacio’s study. “Fine. I have some stuff to take care of. I’ll be in touch later today.”
I didn’t wait for any answer. I was out of the house, stripped naked and diving into the pool less than five minutes later. I couldn’t be around anyone right now. I needed to clear my mind and calm my nerves. I felt like a noose was tightening around my throat, and my sanity was dangling from a frayed rope.
Chapter Five
Hattie
Darkness and the stench of rotting flesh greeted me when I opened my eyes again. A damp draft kissed my skin. Scurries of rats or other vermin taunted my ears. Shuddering, I turned onto my side and my fingers trailed through a damp pool of what I assumed was blood. I gagged, but nothing came up, which was probably a testament to how hungry and thirsty I was.
I scrutinized the walls, the metal door, and the damp ceiling. Squinting, I could see the outline of Raul’s body. I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t wait for Ryker. It could take him weeks to find me and organize a rescue mission. Even then, he might not be successful, or I could be dead by the time he showed up. The events of the last couple of days demonstrated with blinding clarity that Juan Alvarez and his son wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. If I hadn’t told Enrique to shoot Raul, he would’ve shot both of us, and there’d be two rotting corpses on the floor right now instead of one.
