Confessed (Vargas Cartel #3)

by Lisa Cardiff

I crawled up his body, pounding his face over and over until ribbons of blood gushed from his mouth and nose. With every hit, I relished his grunts of pain and the way his eyes went from alert to glazed.

  Then, he slipped a knife from his pocket. I almost missed the glint of metal as he slashed his arm in a wild arch, connecting with my lower ribs. I grabbed his wrist, shoving the blade away from me. The bloody knife was suspended between our bodies as we fought for control. With my jaw clenched, our arms locked together, moving back and forth in a tug of war punctuated by grunts, groans, and unintelligible curses.

  “I’m going to kill you,” he snarled between grunts, his contorted face gleaming with sweat. His lips curled over his bloodied teeth like a wild animal. “Then I’m going after your woman.”

  With his free hand, he swiped the side of my cheek, raking his fingernails down my face to my neck. I winced and softened my grip on him. He seized the moment. He lurched forward trying to sit up, bringing his face within striking distance of mine. Without a second thought, I whipped my head forward, slamming my forehead into the bridge of his nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurted out of his nose, spraying my face.

  Enrique’s body went slack, and his head bounced like a basketball against the ground. His eyes rolled up in his head. I picked the knife off the grass, intending to carve a V in his cheek. I didn’t know if I’d let him live, but he branded Hattie so I’d brand him.

  Just as I finished the first gash in his cheek, someone yanked on the collar of my vest.

  “We have to get out of here now! The SUVs are waiting for us at the end of the driveway,” Rick said. “We’re running out of time. Eric intercepted a call for backup.”

  “One more minute,” I answered without glancing over my shoulder. I needed to finish this. If Enrique lived, he’d wear the Vargas V for the rest of his life. If he died, his family wouldn’t want to have an open casket funeral.

  My heart hammered inside my chest as I jabbed the tip of the knife into his cheek and slashed downward until the two lines intersected, perfecting the V. I wiped the handle of the knife on my pants and tossed it in the bushes next to the house.

  I stood and kicked Enrique in the ribs. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I turned to Rick. Dumbfounded, he rubbed his hand across his mouth, his eyes wide.

  “What crawled up your ass?” I snapped.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head.

  I started walking. “Are you coming?” I said as I glanced over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, man.” He jogged to catch up with me, his gaze glued to the side of my face like he’d never seen me before.

  “What?” I barked.

  “With your background, I assumed you wouldn’t be as crazy as the rest of those cartel fuckers.”

  “You shouldn’t assume anything. I’m a Vargas.” I shot him a bitter smile as I rounded the side of the SUV.

  “Aren’t you going to finish that shit?” Rick asked, leaning his shoulder into the SUV.

  “Finish what?”

  “You need to kill that fucker or he’ll hunt you down and go after Hattie again.”

  I spun around, eyeing Enrique’s huddled body. He had rolled to his side, curling into a ball with his hand pressed to his cheek. My need for revenge had fizzled marginally in the last few minutes, but then I remembered the look on Hattie’s face before Noah threw her over his shoulder. The way her body trembled and her eyes dilated scared the shit out of me. Her high-pitched cries would haunt me for years.

  “You’re right.” I grabbed Rick’s gun from his hands, aimed and pulled the trigger.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  I handed him the gun and flung open the driver’s side door. “Move. I’m driving.”

  Eric eyed me guardedly, and then he nodded. “Whatever you want. This is your show,” he mumbled as he climbed into the passenger seat.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hattie

  I pushed up, bracing my body on my elbows as my eyes scanned the darkness swallowing the room. The floorboards squeaked. A loud scream erupted from my mouth, ringing in ears. Arms circled around my waist. I swung my hands and my open palms connected with flesh. I curled my fingers into weapons, clawing at everything within my reach.

  Someone pinned my arms to my sides. Short panting breaths exploded from my mouth. Fear crawled up my throat, suffocating me. My muscles stiffened, preparing for battle.

  “Shh. It’s me. It’s Ryker,” he whispered next to my ear. “You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.”

  I inhaled his familiar spicy sea scent, and the tension in my muscles evaporated. My heart slowed and my sluggish brain cleared. “Where am I?”

  He didn’t say anything for a few drawn out seconds. Instead, he stroked the back of my head lazily as he hummed softly in my ear. “You’re in my room at my dad’s compound.”

  As much as I hated the Vargas compound and everything it symbolized in my mind, relief zipped through my veins. I was safe here. Nothing would happen to me. Ryker would make sure of it. I cradled my head against his chest, savoring the moment. Savoring our connection. He rocked me back and forth silently. His strong, even heartbeat echoed in my ears, grounding me in the moment and away from the nightmare of the past few days.

  “You should go back to sleep. You need your rest.” His fingertips slid down my sides, and the bed shifted as he stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be in the room next door if you need me.”

  I gasped and held out my hands, reaching for him. “Wait. Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”

  He tucked my hair behind my ear. “You need your rest,” he repeated.

  “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here.”

  “You did just fine without me. I’ll just get in your way.”

  My brows furrowed as my mind scrambled to unravel his words. What was I missing? Something wasn’t right.

  “No.” I shoved the sheets off my body. “Now that you’re here, I’m not letting you go again.”

  “Hattie.” My name came out like a long drawn sigh.

  “Ryker,” I responded in kind, kicking my legs over the side of the bed.

  “When did you become so stubborn?” he mumbled more to himself than me.

  I flipped on the light next to the bed. I searched his eyes for the glow of the affection I’d grown to love, but there was absolutely nothing. A blank void. A mask.

  “What’s going on right now? Why are you running away from me? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. Of course not,” he said, his voice strained. His gaze bounced everywhere except on me.

  “Then why won’t you look at me?” I grabbed his wrist. He glanced at the A Enrique burned into my arm, and then he looked away like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. I snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

  “What?” he growled, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re right. You didn’t.” I dropped his arm and stood up. “You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” I shook my head. “I get it. Explanations aren’t needed.”

  My legs wobbled from disuse and exhaustion as I walked to the bathroom. I lamented my fate, the last three months, meeting Ryker, dating Evan…everything. At that moment, I hated myself. I hated my life. Why did everyone use me and reject me?

  “You don’t understand anything.”

  “Uh huh. Whatever,” I mumbled.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the bathroom to shower.” I peeked over my shoulder. He alternated between flexing and curling his hands into tight balls. Obviously, our relationship had run its course—at least in his mind. He made me all these promises, and now he couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go back to your room and do whatever you were doing.”

  “No. Wait. I’ll stay. Let me help you.”

  “Not if you’re going
look at me like you’re going to be sick.” I didn’t turn around. I kept walking. I didn’t want to see the pity or disgust flashing across his face like a neon sign.

  His arms circled my waist and he dragged me against his chest. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  My body battled with my mind. My body wanted to sink into his embrace and beg him to never let go. My mind wanted to fight him, scream at him, and curse him to hell.

  “The look on your face says it all, but I don’t get it. Even Noah was more compassionate than you, and I’ll probably never see him again. You, on the other hand, can’t run away from me fast enough. You made me all these promises. Promises you have no intention of keeping. Are you going to ship me back to Evan again? Is that what this is about?”

  He spun me around so fast, I felt like I had vertigo. “All this is my fault. I should’ve let you go. I should’ve stayed far away from your engagement party. Look at what I’ve done to you.”

  “Are you talking about this?” I held up my arm, waving the still pink and puckered letter A above my head.

  He swallowed and nodded.

  “Well, I don’t give a shit about it. Just like everything that happened over the last few days, it will fade. It can be fixed. Everything can be fixed. I only care about us and our future.” I’d spent every moment of the last five days reliving our moments together and dreaming of being with him again and he was pushing me away…again.

  “You’re right,” he murmured, guiding me into the bathroom by my shoulders. “We’ll take this one day at a time.”

  He turned on the bath and poured some bath salts into the water. Without meeting my eyes, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and slipped my panties down my legs swiftly and without a comment. Goosebumps kissed my greedy skin, and I swayed on my feet. My soul wept for his touch. His kindness. His love.

  The second the bath filled, he tipped his head toward the tub. “Get in and relax.”

  For an uneasy second, I stared at his face, willing him to see me…really see me. I wanted him to tell me he still loved me. I wanted him to promise me we’d have a family and grow old together. Words circled the tip of my tongue like marbles, but nothing came out. I didn’t know where to start.

  He sighed heavily and combed his hands through his inky hair. My gaze fixated on the slight tremor. It was the only indication he still cared. Any sane girl would have run away a long time ago. But here I was, exposing myself to more heartache, praying he wouldn’t push me away again.

  “Just leave it alone for tonight,” he whispered. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Just get in and let me take care of you. I need to take care of you.”

  My shoulder muscles crawled up my neck. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him. Every passing second another emotional door slid shut between us. By tomorrow, I’d need a battering ram to get through to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Please,” he whispered, briefly shuttering his eyes. “Don’t fight me on this.”

  A weighty exhalation whistled through my lips, releasing hundreds of unsaid words. He was right. I was tired. I ached. My arm still throbbed.

  Wordlessly, I slipped into the bathtub. A moan tumbled from my lips without my permission, and my eyes fluttered closed like butterfly wings. Steaming hot water lapped around my neck. God, this felt amazing. I could sit here for hours.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  I rolled my head from side to side without opening my eyes. “No. Noah brought me a plate of food before I fell asleep.”

  His feet shuffled on the tiles. “Good. A doctor will be here tomorrow to take a look at your injuries.” He cleared his throat. “And to do an ultrasound.”

  My eyes cracked open, and I raised my injured arm out of the water. “My arm and hand are hurt, but other than that, I think I’ll be okay. The ultrasound can wait until we get home.”

  “It’s already scheduled and I’m concerned about you. Both of you.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged. “When are we flying home?”

  For strangled beats, he stared blankly at the wall, the expression on his face tough to interpret.

  “Ignacio’s jet will take you home the day after tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait to leave.” My eyes slid closed again. “Are you glad we’re done with this place?”

  He kissed my forehead. “Dunk your head under the water,” he said, not answering my question. “Let me wash your hair.”

  The bumps of my spine tapped against the acrylic tub as I plunged into the warm water. When I surfaced, Ryker squirted shampoo into his hand and massaged it into my scalp. Thirty seconds later, all my confusion melted away. I didn’t want to worry about tomorrow or next month. I wanted to enjoy this moment with him.

  Cupping his hands together, he dribbled water over my head again and again until my hair was free of suds.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “My pleasure. It’s the least I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I do. This was my fault.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, silently trailing down my face. “I forgive you.”

  He stared icily at the floor, looking stricken. “I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

  I traced the line of his jaw, and he inhaled sharply. The sides of his face hollowed, and his chiseled cheekbones stood out in sharp relief. His thick eyelashes sheltered his gray eyes. The symmetrical arch of his top lip begged to be kissed.

  “Get in here with me,” I pleaded, unwilling to accept his need for distance any longer.

  The corners of his lips curled upward, but he didn’t say anything. He dipped his bruised and battered hands into the water and curled them around the curved lip of the tub. “I don’t want to rush anything. We have time.”

  Craving him, I chewed on my lower lip, and then I tugged on the collar of his shirt. “No. I need to be close to you right now.”

  I needed to feel connected to him.

  I needed to know the Alvarez Cartel hadn’t destroyed us.

  I needed to feel his hands on me and wipe Enrique’s touch from my mind.

  I wanted to be wanted.

  I wanted to be normal.

  Is that so bad?

  Staring at me almost reverently with heavy eyelids, he rubbed his hands together. I wanted him so much that I stopped breathing for a suspended second. I was in agony. He groaned softly, gripping the edge of the tub. “Hattie, I don’t think—”

  I shifted onto my knees and looped my arms around his neck. Rivulets of water streamed down my body. Goosebumps somersaulted down my arms. A mixture of desire and something indecipherable glowed in his eyes. Hypnotic lust wove through my veins.

  “Don’t think, Ryker. Just kiss me. Make me forget. I need to forget, and you’re the only one who can help me do that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryker

  Everything moved in slow motion as Hattie’s body rose out of the water like Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Like so many times since I first saw her, I struggled not to reach out and touch her.

  The muted light of the bathroom highlighted her golden eyes. They glimmered like twin gemstones. Water dripped from the tips of her pink nipples. For a spine-tingling second, her unassuming seductive beauty immobilized me. She looked fragile with the faint bruise staining her cheek, but at the same time, I couldn’t remember a moment when I wanted her more. I never wanted to forget the love and trust vibrating from her when I finally destroyed us.

  I shuddered the instant she wrapped her arms around me. The recriminations in my head quieted to a dull hum. I sucked in a breath, scrambling to find the will to stop this. All the reasons I needed to let her go floated through my mind, but like tendrils of smoke I couldn’t latch onto any of them. It all came down to one thing: I was bad for her. If I kept her in my life, the days she’d spent as a prisoner of the Alvarez Cartel would pale in comparison to a lifetime in the web of the Vargas Cartel.

 
I’d trade my soul to the devil to go back in time and change the way things unfolded, but it wasn’t possible. I had to make the best decision for Hattie based on the facts, and the best decision was to send her away. I needed to force her out of my life even if the thought alone cleaved my heart in two. I didn’t see any other way.

  My fingers ghosted over the burn marks on her arm and her eyelids fluttered. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her lips feathered across mine and electricity shot down my spine. I bit back a groan. Dammit, she was hard to refuse—more so now than the first time I met her. My need for her grew every day.

  She rested her forehead against mine. “The only way you could hurt me is by leaving me,” she said, her eyes glistening.

  My throat tightened at the soft tenor in her voice. My soul devoured her words even though she was wrong. Leaving her was the only way to stop the pain and prevent future heartache, but when she looked at me with love shining from her eyes, reality and desire blurred.

  “Hattie,” I whispered, my voice like gravel on glass. It sounded like a benediction mixed with a curse. Half dark. Half light. It captured my character, my life, and my future perfectly.

  She flicked open the buttons of my shirt, one after another, and pushed it off my shoulders. She licked her lower lip and my entire body trembled. I wanted her, but my desire for her didn’t stop the guilt from wrapping around my chest like a vice. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t touch her, but with every brush of her fingertips, my resistance evaporated faster than rain on hot asphalt.

  Her fingertips coasted over the rectangular bandage on my ribs. It concealed the knife wound inflicted by Enrique Alvarez.

  “What happened?”

  “A small cut,” I hissed as her hand pressed against the bandage. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. I don’t want to be gentle.” She opened the button of my pants, and I forgot everything but the sound of her breath next to my ear and the soft slide of her lips against my neck. In the blink of an eye, I had convinced myself we could share this last moment before real life bashed us over the head and demolished everything we’d worked so hard to build over the last few months. It was selfish of me, but I didn’t want to fight this any more than I wanted let her go. There’d be plenty of time to sort this out tomorrow.