Gaige

by Alaska Angelini

  GAIGE

  Captive to the Dark

  Alaska Angelini

  GAIGE

  Captive to the Dark

  Alaska Angelini

  Copyright © 2014 by Alaska Angelini

  ISBN: 9781938076367

  All Rights Reserved

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Dedication

  Ally, I’d be lost without you. I’ve been blessed to have such a great friend come into my life. You will forever hold a piece of my heart.

  I’d also like to give big hugs to all the readers who have decided to read my books. You all rock! Thank you so much for your support.

  And last, but not least…Digital Daggers. I’m still obsessed and listen to your music constantly while I write. I love it!

  WARNING: This book contains very graphic violence, disturbing situations, dubious consent, and very strong language.

  Prologue

  Elle

  Love has been the foundation of some of the biggest events that have ever taken place in history. People have waged war over the feeling, gone mad with desperation to claim the object of emotion, even killed to protect it. But where there is love, there is also hate. A double-edged blade, always lurking in the shadows, ready to replace love when rejection or cuckoldry reigned.

  In my twenty-six years, I’d experienced the rawest forms of both. The loss of one nearly killed me, the other taught me to thrive. Hate fed my life. Gave me hope. Prepared me for the beatings meant to break me. Ten years, and only the first three had nearly swallowed me whole. Sucking me beneath the black depths of despair as I wondered if the boy I’d fallen in love with had died because of me. Marco said he had, and didn’t mind going into detail of how the blood had sprayed all over the asphalt from the shot that caught Carson in the neck as he struggled to free me from the confines of the vehicle I’d been pulled into. But I kept the faith. Believed that out of the hell I’d been dragged into, something good had to come out of it.

  Carson Sullivan had been my high school sweetheart. Our star quarterback with a full ride to basically any college he wanted. Why he had chosen me was a question I still asked myself to this day. I wasn’t beautiful like all the other girls who filled the brightly decorated halls of San Lorenzo Valley High. My stringy blonde hair wasn’t flattering and I hid behind black rimmed glasses too big for my face. Yet, for months Carson watched me, too shy to even say hello. I caught his stares, but never thought much of them. It took a cruel joke from his older brother to pull us together. Maybe that’s what Gaige had intended all along, but there was no telling with him. He was a mystery. Always quiet, studying everything and everyone he came into contact with. Nothing escaped his notice and he didn’t mind pointing out things that put most people on edge.

  For eight months, Carson and I were inseparable. I was in awe of his tall, muscular body that hid a gentle spirit. His big blue eyes and light blond hair, combined with his energy, reminded me of my own personal angel, so pure and true to everything he did and said. Those days had been the happiest of my life and I clung to each memory like an anchor, keeping me grounded. Keeping me sane. No, Carson couldn’t have died that day. I refused to believe the shot that stilled my rapidly beating pulse had made contact. If I didn’t have him, even mentally, I had nothing to keep me going. Marco may as well have killed me that day too, if that was the case. Not that he hadn’t come close throughout the years.

  Like right now.

  The burnt orange stucco walls blurred as I tried to adjust to my surroundings. The large cross resting above the king sized bed snagged my gaze and I blinked, letting the roar in my ears fade out. A groan fell from my lips as I tried to use one of my arms to push myself back to my feet. If I didn’t get up soon, the kicks would begin. I knew the routine. The pattern was one I deciphered easily from the beginning. It always started out with false accusations. My denial didn’t matter; nothing I said did. The beatings would always come, regardless. My face hardly ever got touched, but from the neck down, Marco didn’t hold back. This time, though, he’d caught me on the temple, which had left me unprepared for the remainder of the assault.

  Gravity seemed to increase and pull me back down to the cool tile floor. The tan swirls in the ceramic caught my attention like so many times before and I stared at them through the fogginess.

  “You were watching him. I saw you! What were you trying to do, get him to save you? Get him to fuck you?”

  The air whooshed out in an explosion from my lungs and I slid against the tile. The force of the kick made me gag and I curled into the fetal position, holding to my stomach. Even as I fought to catch my breath, I was already trying to straighten myself out so I could get to my feet.

  “Never,” I gargled out. Bile burned the back of my throat and I forced it down, somehow managing to make it to my knees. “I’m your wife. I know what that means.”

  Wife. Such a loose term concerning these savages that lived on the Estate. What they owned, they claimed with the term. As for legally wed? Not even close.

  Marco’s fingers buried in my hair, jerking me to my feet. A spasm in my side had me crying out. My hand pressed into my lower ribs.

  “You are my wife. Why do you think I’m so pissed? I don’t like you looking at other men.”

  His English was impeccable. Although he was bilingual, he never spoke to me in Spanish. Had he tried, and had I wanted to impress him, he’d know I was fluent in both languages, too. After all, I had been a straight A honor student when he’d taken me. I’d already mastered Spanish ahead of my time. Luckily, he didn’t know. I’d learned a lot from the conversations he and his men had, while assuming I was ignorant to what they said. Someday, I was hoping it paid off. Someday…I’d blow the fucking roof off of the biggest illegal organization in Mexico. All I needed was a miracle—to be rescued—and then I’d tell the world.

  Chapter 1

  Gaige

  “What the fuck are you doing?” The mumble under my breath wasn’t the first and I was sure it wasn’t going to be the last. Aggravation soared, leaving me weaving through the traffic even more.

  Mexico City looked like a cross between Los Angeles and New York. Large skyscrapers towered in the distance, vast and plentiful, reflecting bright light from the setting sun. Houses clustered on the surrounding hills, some crumbling on one side, down to their foundation, while others were decent in appearance. Although homes in LA weren’t necessarily in ruins, the scene did hold a certain similarity. I could almost forget where I was, if I wanted to push away the truth.

  Vehicles were thick along the outskirts. I knew better than to travel around this time, but duty called, leaving me fighting my way through the combination of clunkers and the occasional high-end sports car. People using their blinkers were pretty much nonexistent. It didn’t take me long to learn to drive more by instinct than law.

  For weeks, I’d engulfed myself in the culture, blending in to appear as unnoticeable as possible. It wasn’t easy collecting intelligence. I was taller than most men at a little over six-foot-four, and it didn’t help that genetics had given me wide shoulders, thick arms, and a lean waist. My build brought attention wherever I went, but baggy clothes helped to conceal the definition. My face was mostly always covered with a few days growth. Another form of camouflage, but not one that hid me from the ladies. They seemed to notice me wherever I went. I wasn’t vai
n, but I’d lucked out in the look’s department, too. The combination wasn’t always good for undercover work, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. I managed to get the job done, sometimes by trading on my looks.

  My exit was flagged ahead and I merged over, taking it with a line of other cars. The steady pace took me to a light where I made a right and headed further away from the city. My assignment had been simple. Gather information on Marco Garza. The wealthy billionaire was possibly connected to an up-and-coming terrorist cell in Cuba called Los Banditos Del Sur, The Southern Bandits.

  What started out as a small gang of drug dealers in Mexico quickly spread across the country and into the US, Cuba, and even parts of Canada. Authorities scrambled to decipher the rapid increase of violence that led these thugs from narcotics to assassination attempts on political figures. One, so far, being successful. Their main headquarters appeared to be situated on the small island just south of Florida, but Cuba wasn’t a for-sure bet. If anything, my instincts told me they were still operating from Mexico, but it was almost impossible to know for sure. It all came down to one thing. Money. They were being funded by more than profits from the drug trade. But, by who? Or what? It was my job to find out. In all of my investigations, one man kept getting mentioned. Marco Garza. A street rat turned insanely wealthy.

  Legitimate business practices, my ass. His popular food franchise blew up over Mexico, and yes, it did bring him money, but even investing on top of that wouldn’t have made him as rich as he’d become. At least, not in the short number of years he’d been in the business. Whether Marco was in with Los Banditos Del Sur or not, something was going on that didn’t meet the eye. I was going to find out what that something was. After all, he believed I was an American hotshot interested in buying into his chain and bringing it into the US. He’d make a fortune. Such bullshit. The only thing he was going to gain was a one way ticket into a life behind bars. Terrorist, embezzler, drug trafficker…hell, I wasn’t sure, but he was a criminal in some way. I would just have to find out the crime and the evidence.

  Honk! The loud noise sounded in front of me and I slammed on the brakes, cursing under my breath as a woman barely escaped getting hit by the car. We started moving again, but I didn’t have to drive for long. A fellow agent, a sleeper who had lived in the area for the last few months, had everything I needed for the big dinner tonight, including my suit and car. Although this was a part of the job I loved, it didn’t stop the nerves that were taking over. What I was going into was extremely dangerous. Marco Garza was not only guarded, but the gun power reported at the estate was more than I could handle if the situation went to shit. And, sometimes, it did. Playing the part of the buyer was important. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time I’d acted out the role.

  The road led me up the mountain side, full of twists and narrow curves. After a few minutes, I found myself in front of the all too familiar dark brown villa. The two story house was stucco, like most of the homes in the area, but this one was more on the nicer side. Nothing compared to Marco’s mansion, but definitely more luxurious than the shacks I’d passed along the way.

  Brunette hair, almost the exact color and cut of mine, looked disheveled as I took in Crux. We could have passed as brothers, although I suspected he was a few years older. His thick upper body drew in as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for me to exit the sedan.

  “Happy travels?”

  I laughed as I shut my door. “Like always.” The sarcasm was thick as I pushed the keys in my pocket and took in the fancy black sports car that was parked in the circular driveway directly in front of the door. “Nice ride. That mine?”

  “It sure as hell’s not mine. I wish.”

  My hand traveled up the sleek side, admiring the beauty. I loved cars. It was the only thing aside from guns that I took pleasure in. If I wasn’t wearing some sort of mask, people and I just didn’t get along. I could make them believe I was anyone, a gift I cherished. But sometimes it wore me out. Material shit didn’t need coaxing or seducing. I could admire them without expecting to give something in return.

  “Nice. I’ll take it. You have my suit?”

  “Inside.” Crux nudged his head toward the thick wooden door and I followed him inside. Earthy shades decorated the living area from the dark green walls, to the deep brown furniture and tables. Had anyone ever come in, they’d be impressed with how well the agent had fixed up the place. But I knew better. Nothing had been moved or added since Crux had hired a service to add their touch. It was all fake, for show. Even the family pictures on the wall didn’t depict his real wife or kids. According to his file, he’d never been married and didn’t have children. So who these were, I had no idea. Probably no one he’d ever met.

  “Name?” The question came out of nowhere and was one meant to prepare me.

  I followed him down the hall, off from the kitchen. “Daniel Fallston. Prospective owner of The Fab Five, along with a list of other shitty places I’ve never heard of. I’ve got this.”

  “Age?”

  “My age. Thirty-three.”

  Green eyes were cast in my direction as he glanced over his shoulder. “Date of birth?”

  I laughed. “Not mine, I assure you. December eighth.” My brother’s. A twinge of pain lanced my heart anytime I dared to think of Carson. He was taken so young. The familiar rage rose up to assuage the heaviness and I swallowed both emotions down. Even if I didn’t want to. In my fury, I thrived. It was home. The only one I really had these days. When was the last time I’d even gone to visit my own house?

  “Good.” He swung the door open. “You have my number in case shit hits the fan?”

  My brain didn’t even have to think. I gave out the number from memory.

  “Excellent,” he said, lowly. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

  The white walls and comforter on the bed were a breath of fresh air. I walked in and closed myself inside. An expensive suit rested on the bed, the shoes and socks right beside it. The colors stood out in contrast. Just like me. Dark, in a mass of light. Well, I wouldn’t be tonight. Where I was going, the place would be hell on Earth. There’d be nothing pure there. Everyone was a suspect. A possible killer. I wouldn’t trust a single thing they said or did.

  A bag rested on the dresser and I pushed my finger against the leather, revealing the contents. Shaving supplies. My eyes lifted to the reflection of my face, something I didn’t take comfort in. Who was I? I wasn’t sure. I’d lost the man I was a long time ago. I didn’t even remember him anymore. My reoccurring, nightmarish memories started the day I saw the police cordoning off my block. The red and blue lights were so unfamiliar in my life at the time. Something in my gut stirred in that moment and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rise as I pictured the scene. Although I hadn’t known it was Carson who had been the focal point, I knew it was someone related to me.

  Again, the lights flashed before me, blinding my stare. The officers didn’t even stand a chance the moment I saw my brother’s shoes sticking out from under the white sheet they had over his dead body. White and blue. I’d never forget the colors of those shoes. They’d been mine. My brother had begged me for them. Why, I wasn’t sure. He could have had brought a pair if he’d wanted, but he’d asked me and I couldn’t deny his request.

  Anger surged and I pushed the memory away, preferring not to recall how I shoved and punched the cops aside as I leapt for Carson’s body.

  My hand grasped the bag and I swung open the door to the restroom probably harder than I should have. The bang against the plaster walls had me cringing. It wasn’t like me to not have myself under control. The last few years I’d been nonstop, buried in my job. Perhaps when I figured everything out here, I’d take time for a vacation. It was long overdue. Maybe even go home…Back to where I’d be faced with it all. Was I done running?

  Water pounded against the tile shower floor as I turned the knob. My gun sat against my lower back and I took it out,
placing it and the leather bag down on the bathroom counter. I avoided the mirror as I got undressed and climbed under the warm spray.

  The plans I had for the night took over. It would go without a flaw if I kept to the script I had memorized. Routine inquiries, answers to questions he might ask me, I knew everything there was concerning the figures for his businesses. It would go fast. After all, I wasn’t the only one attending this big dinner. Multiple people interested in becoming his partner would be there. I’d blend in fine.

  I lathered my hair and body with soap. The fragrance was rich and spicy, perfect for the look I was pulling off. One I was quite comfortable in. Had I never joined the military where I stood out because of my ability to assess situations, and then got recruited for the position I held now, perhaps I would have led a business-type life. Numbers had always been my thing. So unlike Carson who held more of the sports talent. I rinsed off, shutting off the water behind me.

  Memories wouldn’t stop coming and I barely even realized I had started shaving.

  “I’m going to UT.” The declaration had my head jerking up from the college algebra book I was staring down at.

  “Texas? You’ve got to be kidding me. I thought you had decided on OU?”

  Carson’s shoulders shrugged and he pulled out a chair from the table, sitting down. “Elle has plans to go to UT, too, when she graduates. I want to be with her. I want us to be there together. I can’t stand leaving her for a year, but if I know she’s going to be coming eventually, it’ll be easier.”

  My eyes rolled and I shook my head.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Gaige. I love her. If you’d only talk to her, you’d see why.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Had he forgotten that it was me who had put them together in the first place? Making a wager that Carson couldn’t convince Little Miss Shy to go out with him? That had hurt Elle when she found out, but obviously she’d forgiven him—and me—because look how things had turned out. “Carson, I see her every day. I don’t have to talk to her to know why you chose her. She’s sweet. I can see why you like her…personality.” Hell, I couldn’t say looks. Elle had been as plain as could be. Long legs. Stick figure body. The girl didn’t have a curve on her. But she did have the most amazing eyes. Almost teal in color and big in her thin face. I’d had to pull myself out of some weird spell more than once when those eyes caught mine, which was unsettling. Girls weren’t my thing. Not young girls, or even ones my own age. I’d always been attracted to the older ladies for as long as I could remember, but there was something about Elle that left me feeling uncomfortable.