The Pimp (Colombian Cartel Book 2)

by Suzanne Steele

  “But you all have been trying to go legitimate, right?” I ask.

  “We still deal in women, arms, and gambling. Once you’re cartel you never get out—not really. Believe me, I tried when I enlisted but it’s in me too deep—the cartel life. It’s all I know. My earliest memories are of sneaking around with my brother so we could listen to my father and uncle plan out their next operation, their next deal.

  “We need this to work and I need to know you’re all in, both of you. I know he is,” he says to Brook, “but you’ve never killed a man. It’s different, nothing like just shooting him in the leg and being done with it.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Brook replies softly. “I’m all in but, to be honest, I won’t know if my conscience is going to bother me until the deed’s done. But he’ll be dead either way. I know it sounds crazy but part of me wants to hurry up and do it so I’ll know.”

  He grins over at her as he reminisces and I feel my hackles rise when she smiles back at him. “Oh, yeah, I remember that feeling. But, you know, after your first kill they just keep coming. I can’t even count how many men I’ve killed. Now…I’m pretty much a dead man inside,” he says, his expression solemn. “At least, I was until Caden came along.”

  I feel bad that I’m the one who dragged Brook into the chaotic world of cartel. But I need her by my side, working with me. If I don’t have her working with me then I’ll have to lie to her every day. I don’t have the kind of job where you can come home and answer the simple question ‘Honey, how was your day?’ I took a gamble on Brook so I need to help her get her first kill out of the way. It will be the moment of truth and I’ll be watching her closely afterward.

  Tony picks up his satellite phone when it rings and I can already feel the adrenalin start pumping; I love it.

  “So they finally got through. Excellent,” he says into the phone. “I’m assuming the weather has something to do with the bad connection…Yeah…Sounds like you guys have got it under control on that end, you know what to do. Kill all of Santiago’s men. Get the money but leave the drugs. Get the fuck out of there as soon as you’re finished. I don’t want my men getting mixed up in this shit.” He ends the call and stands, restless energy rolling off him in waves as he looks our way.

  “It’s show time, boys and girls.” He focuses on Brook. “Listen, I know my dad said to kill Santiago and then he’d let you off the hook. The offer’s still good if you want it. If you want to get that first kill of yours out of the way, Brook, this is your chance. The only advice I have for you is to only do it if it feels right to you. You’ll know when to pull the trigger.”

  Chapter Forty Six

  Brook

  We all pile into Tony’s truck.

  “Man, you’ve got as much technology in here as you do in your house,” Diego comments.

  Tony chuckles as he starts the engine, “Well, yeah. Goes with the job description, I guess.”

  He turns on some space-age navigation/tracking system that would put any GPS system to shame. The screen displays three red dots in the middle and I know immediately that the largest of the three is Foxy’s house—or Caden’s, I guess. I really have to get used to using her real name. The other two are smaller, probably trackers planted on Caden and Santiago’s vehicles.

  “Did you seriously put a tracker on Caden’s car?!” I ask with a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve never actually met her in person but you’ve been tracking her movements?”

  “Damn straight, I have.” He looks in the rearview mirror and sheepishly grins back at me. “My dad says I’m a born stalker.”

  He offers more information about his stalker tendencies and I listen closely because I know he and Diego have much in common. I lock eyes with an amused Diego and I know he knows what I’m thinking.

  “I guess my father is right; when it comes to her I am a stalker. She has no idea who I am or that I’m in love with her. No one is more surprised than I am that I fell for her just from texting and emailing. I hate myself for not having the balls to pursue her when I had the chance but she was already in a relationship – shitty though it was -- and I didn’t want to add to her problems.”

  “Add to her problems?” I ask. “Are you kidding? She doesn’t know it yet, but you’re probably the answer to them. Diego was the answer to mine.”

  Our eyes are still locked on each other and I mouth the words to him, Thank you. His nostrils flare and his eyes become heavy-lidded. Sexual energy rolls off him to surround me, sending a flood of delicious heat to my aching core. This attraction is insane; even in the middle of a crisis, I want what he’s got for me.

  “I never looked at it like that,” Tony shrugs, slowly nodding his head.

  “Well, you should. If you want her, you need to go for it. Tomorrow’s not promised to any of us.”

  “I intend to,” he says grimly as we park near the woods by Caden’s house.

  Chapter Forty Seven

  Her Last Supper

  I’m feeling good about this drug run. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever done and a huge risk. But with that big of a risk comes one hell of a payday. Maybe this will be my last job. The fulfillment of my dream of lazing on a beach with a drink in my hand may be closer than I think. But it will be a lonely existence unless Caden’s there with me. I still hold out hope that I can persuade her to join me.

  I sit down in front of her, leaning in earnestly as I make my case. “Caden, I plan on this being my last job. I’m getting out. I want to get out of the country and starting over. I want you to come with me.”

  She stares at me for a long moment, a slight frown tugging on her brows. “You said yourself, you can’t stop killing. How can I know you won’t kill me? How could I ever trust a serial killer?”

  “I told you, I’m not a serial killer! I’m not. There is something dark festering inside me, yes, I can acknowledge that. But don’t you see? You turn those blues my way and the light that shines from you sends all my shadows scattering like leaves in the wind…” I run a hand through my hair in frustration, searching for words that aren’t coming easily. “Okay. This isn’t just about me, you know. It would give you a chance to start over. You could stop stripping and live in a house on the beach with me. I would take care of you. We’d be happy.”

  I’ve rendered her speechless, this woman who is known for her lightning-fast comebacks and unerring wit when she holds court at The Club. The frown deepens to a scowl as she considers my words and seems to consider her response quite carefully.

  “Santiago, where is all this coming from? I just…I don’t need a man to take care of me. Stripping isn’t the only thing I can do. I went to college for TV production and editing. I just knew a nine-to-five job wasn’t for me.”

  “With all you have going for you, you should be on the screen, not behind a desk or on that stage taking your clothes off.”

  “I think you might be a tad bit biased.”

  “No doubt, when it comes to you I am.” I glance around the room, taking in all the little decorating touches that say so much about her. “Caden, it’s no secret that I…very much look forward to our talks at The Club.” I lift my eyes to hers, hiding nothing, letting her see the fire as it burns me down. “Mi tresora, I could sit here with you in your pretty little dollhouse and talk to you forever.”

  Another long, wordless look passes between us before her soft voice shatters the silence. “You know as well as I do, Santiago, that forever is for other people, not us.”

  Chapter Forty Eight

  Diego

  This is the part of my job I fucking hate: waiting. We’re waiting until they go to sleep in the hopes of catching Santiago off guard.

  Tony looks in the rearview mirror and chuckles. “You’re impatient like my uncle, man, I can see it on your face.”

  “I’d rather be playing ‘shoot ‘em up, bang, bang’ than waiting around for something to happen.”

  “Even though it’s pretty remote around here, we can’t really go in with guns b
lazing,” Tony warns. “The last thing we want is the cops being called.”

  “I know but everything in me wants to knock the damn door down and muscle our way in.”

  “Sometimes it’s better to walk softly and carry a big stick, bro.”

  Brook laughs and I shoot her a glare. She already knows me too well.

  “Well, it is pretty funny,” she tells me. “I mean, you like to walk softly and strike with no warning.”

  “You’d do well to remember that.”

  “How can I forget? I have you around to constantly remind me.”

  “Hey, now,” I tell her smugly, “you should be nice to me; you’re going to need moral support if your first hit goes down tonight.”

  “Speaking of that,” Tony interrupts, “Diego, reach down and pull out that case under the seat.”

  I reach down and pull out a black case, popping it open. I immediately forget about being impatient when I see what’s inside, asking reverently, “Damn, Tony…is this what I think it is?”

  “If you think it’s the latest nine-millimeter with a built-in silencer, it is.”

  “It looks futuristic—like something from a sci-fi movie,” Brook says as she leans in to admire it.

  “It’s a duty pistol. I like it because it’s compact, reliable, and built to be tough.”

  “That’s mighty nice, but I think I’ll stick with my nine-millimeter Ruger,” Brook assures him.

  Tony’s eyes meet hers in the mirror. “You shoot when it feels right. Listen to your gut, don’t ever fail to follow it.”

  I can’t resist giving Brook the, I told you so look. If she hears the same things over and over, eventually it will stick with her. As she continues to do these things that she’s being taught to do, they’ll become a part of her.

  We sit talking and getting our artillery together until an hour after the lights in the house go out. Nobody speculates about what we’re going to find: bedmates or a hostage and her captor. All I know is that it’s time to go in and get my best friend. Whether Santiago will live to see tomorrow remains to be seen.

  Chapter Forty Nine

  Brook

  This is it…the moment of truth. I have every intention of making this bastard suffer for what he did, not only to me but to all those women he dumped in that well. It breaks my heart to think of the families who will never know what happened to their daughter. All they’ll know is that their girl left for America to make a better life, never to be seen again. To never know what happened leaves…possibilities. And possibilities, no matter how remote, make the tiniest glimmer of hope irresistible and keep a mother praying that their girl will somehow return one day.

  We get out of the truck quietly, shutting the doors carefully even though there are no neighbors around. No matter how crazy Santiago is, he still has to sleep and I’d sure hate to wake the bastard. At least, not yet.

  I hope we don’t walk in on anything more illicit than sleep. I don’t know if Tony could take it if Santiago had ‘had’ Caden that way. I could tell from his grim expression when the lights went out, that he’s not convinced they’re just sleeping in there. He knows how infatuated Santiago is with Caden, and how stress and the survival instinct could make someone do things they wouldn’t usually do. But in the short time I’ve known her, Caden doesn’t strike me as a woman to let anyone take advantage of her.

  Tony makes quick work of the front door lock. When we get inside we disperse in three different directions, communicating silently through hand signals we agreed to before we got here. We clear the house before we approach the last bedroom. Every sound seems magnified. I’m waiting for the bogey man to jump out and start shooting.

  When Tony opens the door, I’m surprised to see both of them in the bed. I know she wouldn’t sleep with him willingly and I hope he hasn’t…I don’t even want to think about it.

  I stand at the end of the bed with my eyes trained on the lumps that extend down the length of the bed from the headboard. Diego and Tony take their positions on either side of the bed where Caden and Santiago are sleeping with the covers over their heads. That’s just weird. Tony raises one finger, then two, then three. They both jerk the covers back at the same time and none of us are ready for what we see.

  “Son of a bitch!” Tony bellows as he heaves one pillow after another across the room. “How in the hell did he get her out of here? His truck is still outside.”

  “Her car is, too.”

  “Do you think he saw us watching him?” I ask, as baffled as they are.

  Diego answers, “Not necessarily. He might just be doing the cartel ‘nomad’ thing. You’ve got some cartel who refuse to sleep in the same place two nights in a row—they’re constantly moving.”

  Tony finally says something. “They could be in any of those places listed in that book. Let’s just hope we get to him before he gets the idea to do something crazy like take her out of the country – or kill her.”

  Her Addiction

  I close the cage door behind me. I like the way it sounds as it screeches against the concrete floor. It’s good to be back at the warehouse, where I finally feel comfortable in my own skin. The air smells like an intoxicating mixture of tears, fear, and desperation.

  It doesn’t matter what kind of beast you are when you abduct a woman. You could be a demon from hell and, if she holds out even the slightest hope of surviving, she needs you in order to do it. Even the smallest of things in her world come from me: a drink of water, food, a bath, even a toilet. Every day I’m the beast who provides those things. Over time, for her mind to cope with her ordeal, she’ll begin to form a connection to me. She won’t even realize it at first, but I always recognize the signs.

  Maybe that’s the answer with Caden. Maybe I’m being too fucking nice. It comes naturally for me to be a bastard to these women, but it’s different with her. For the first time in my life I’m the one who’s afraid—afraid to lose her. It’s a gamble I’m not willing to take. In fact, that’s why I’m here.

  “Get up, bitch!” I laugh as she scrambles to the corner of her tiny bed. She actually thinks she can get away from me. The women in the surrounding cages all shrink away from me, too. But I’m not here for any of them. Of course, they long ago lost any inhibitions about being watched as they do what’s demanded of them, and my clients are just twisted enough to enjoy having an audience. No, my only interest in them watching is to remind them how bad it can get. It’s important to keep them in line. So I’m going to make this count.

  “I’m sick…please help me.” She pushes her long, blonde hair away from her face, struggling to keep her glassy, unfocused eyes trained on me. The sweat on her brow and upper lip reveal that she’s due for another hit. My timing is impeccable.

  “I. Don’t. Care.” She’s disgusts me. Looking at her makes me sick. She’s nothing like Caden.

  “I’ll do anything you want.”

  “You disgust me, you fucking junky.”

  “But…but you did this to me.”

  “You did this to me,” I mock her with disdain.

  “Please. I need it.”

  “And I needed you to work for me, but no… you were too good for prostitution. Not too good for much of anything now, eh?” I raise a sardonic brow, as if she’s lucid enough to understand what I’m saying.

  “I’ll do anything. I’ll work. I’ll do what you want me to.”

  They’re all the same. They start out telling me what they won’t do; like they have a choice. They’re good little girls who have been raised to grow up and get married. The church teaches them that they must be virgins when they finally give it up to their husbands. Of course, when I come along and tell them they’re going to be my dirty whores, it usually takes some convincing. But in the end, it’s always like this; they’re compliant, even eager. The drugs give them no choice.

  A human being never knows what they’ll do when their spirit is truly broken. There’s a monster lurking inside all of us, it just takes a little stre
ss and desperation to awaken it and then…anything goes.

  Then why can’t I just do this to Caden? Why am I taking my frustration out on the disgusting creature in this cage? If I showed Caden the depth of my dark obsession for her, there would be no turning back for either of us. But it would forever change her beautiful nature. I don’t want to destroy her soul; I want to take it inside me and keep it safe.

  “I’ll let you fuck me. I’ll let you do anything.”

  “You’ll let me. Really,” I say sardonically. “You sure about that? Now, I wouldn’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to, puta.” I’m such a sarcastic bastard.

  “No, no, really, I want to.” She nods her head frantically, like that’s going to make me believe it’s my cock she wants more than anything else in this world and not my drugs.

  Looks like this is her lucky night because she’s about to get both.

  I pull the syringe from my pocket. The instant she sees it lies back, yanks her skirt up, and frantically spreads her legs, never taking her eyes off the needle. Pathetic. I tie off her arm, and soon a vein pops up. As soon as I shoot the drugs into her system, she’s off to La La Land, little more than deadweight now. I flip her over and yank her ass up toward me, spreading her legs wide and propping her up on her knees. She’s so high, she only grunts when her head cracks against the cement wall. I unzip my pants and move in behind her.

  But as I palm my cock, I picture the pretty pussy I really want – and it’s not this one. Rage fires my blood and my cock reaches full staff easily as I slide my belt from the loops and cinch the leather around her neck.