Faded Gray Lines (Carrera Cartel Book 2)

by Cora Kenborn

  Destiny was an intriguing concept. I’d always condemned the acts of those around me, standing on the side of the righteous and winged. However, maybe I had it all wrong. Maybe the ones I loved suffered because I’d refused to look in the mirror and accept the truth.

  I’d spent my life running from monsters when I was one of them all along.

  Standing on the steep steps outside the church, I watched the tail of Jackie’s black Acura fade away down the busy street in downtown Houston. The clutch weighed heavy in my hand, but it no longer felt like a curse. In fact, it felt like I held long awaited justice.

  My father dedicated his life to serving justice in the eyes of the law and look where that got him. The kind of justice I planned wasn’t moral or righteous, but it would satisfy the monster inside me who craved the kind not offered within the walls behind me.

  Walking out of the Starbucks bathroom, I dropped my hat and the black clutch into the trashcan. Carrying my coffee outside, I sat on the outdoor patio while making my calls. To the casual onlooker, I appeared to be a normal young woman on a typical Tuesday afternoon. I looked safe and unassuming. No one gave me a second glance.

  That was unfortunate. If they’d cared to pay attention, they would’ve known I was probably the most dangerous person in Houston at that moment. I had a loaded gun aimed right at the heart of the city, and I couldn’t wait to pull the trigger.

  Taking a sip of my coffee, I dialed the first number and waited for them to pick up.

  “Yes?”

  I didn’t have time for pleasantries. “I need to see you. I have something I think you’ve been looking for. Meet me in the parking lot at two o’clock.” I hung up before a single rebuttal could be formed.

  Dialing the second number, I took another sip of my coffee, irritated to find it unpleasantly cold. Now I was pissed.

  “Hello?”

  “I think we can help each other. I’m not as stupid as you think I am, but that’s okay, neither are you. It’s time to cut the crap and be who we are, don’t you think?”

  “But...”

  “I said, cut the crap. I know everything. Meet me at three o’clock. I’ll text you the address.”

  I hung up again, adrenaline rushing through my veins. God, that felt good.

  Two down, one to go.

  While dialing the third number, I dumped the shitty coffee into a nearby trashcan.

  “Leighton, thank God. I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “Yes, well, I had my phone on silent. You’re supposed to do that in church, you know. But I suppose you wouldn’t know that since I bet you’d burst into flames if you stepped foot in one, huh, Alex?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Not important. However, I do need to see you later. Around four o’clock, perhaps? You can pick the place, although I’m sure your tired old sedan holds a special place in your heart.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you drunk?”

  I laughed, causing the guy next to me to glare up at me from his laptop. “Only on love, agent. I am a newlywed, you know.”

  “Yes, thanks to you, I’m back to square one.”

  “I’ll order another coffee so I can cry in it for you. In the meantime, about four o’clock...”

  “Screw four o’clock, Leighton. Where the fuck are you? I need to see you now. It’s important.”

  It was out of order, but I did have time to kill before my first meeting. Shaking things up seemed to be working for me so far today, so why not give it a go.

  “Okay, fine. I’m at the Starbucks near Bagby. Give me about twenty minutes, and I’ll meet you at—”

  “No! Stay there. I’m right around the corner. I’ll pick you up in five minutes.”

  “Wait, no, Alex!” I pulled the phone away, and realizing he’d hung up on me, slammed it onto the table. “Fuck!”

  Almost immediately, my phone rang, and for the first time since walking out of the church, I doubted what I was doing. My heart constricted, knowing I’d left him in the dark, but my actions started this, and it had to be my actions that finished it. Just because Mateo was my husband, didn’t mean I would drag him into this mess.

  Just to stay focused, I turned my ringer off.

  Tires squealed in front of me, and I glanced up as Alex pulled the dark sedan up on the sidewalk with horns honking all around him. Sighing, I tucked my phone in my back pocket and hopped over the fence in front of the car. I’d barely gotten in when he slammed on the gas, causing me to slide off the seat.

  “No, thanks,” I scowled, “I don’t need a seat belt. I’m fine.”

  “Buckle up then.”

  He drove north on I-69 for what seemed like forever in silence. He seemed off. No, frantic was a better word. His usual calm, arrogant attitude was gone, and an anxious, uptight stress ball bounced around in its place.

  Well, anxious and uptight worked for me. No time like the present.

  Smirking, I draped my forearm against my window. “I found out some interesting information today, Alex.”

  He pressed harder on the gas. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I know you were the one who called in the tip that got my father shot. I also know you were promoted and paid well for it. I have proof.”

  I sat back, waiting for the shock to set in. I waited for the rage I expected for besting him at his own game. I waited—and got a shrug.

  “Good. Great. We have bigger problems.”

  I shook my head and leaned forward, not sure he’d heard me. “Maybe I wasn’t clear. I know you had my father killed. That’s why you wanted me to get shit on the Carreras. They own you, don’t they?”

  Again, I waited for some kind of stunned reaction. I fucking deserved it. And again, I was denied as he sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. After taking the Lauder exit, he quickly headed down a side road. “Leighton, listen to me. Estella is missing.”

  My limbs went numb. “No.”

  “Yes, Leighton.”

  “When?” I barely whispered. “How?”

  “I don’t know,” he growled, shooting me an accusing look. “Someone found out. Maybe your husband decided you weren’t worth the trouble.”

  I felt like I was going to pass out. “Mateo wouldn’t do this.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Why not?”

  “Because Estella is his daughter.”

  My revelation didn’t seem to register with him—or if it did, he didn’t care. He was too preoccupied with staring into the rearview mirror.

  “Oh, fuck!” Jerking the wheel, he made a sharp right turn down a single road.

  “Slow down!” I screamed. His erratic driving threw me around like a ragdoll and my head smacked against the window. “You’re driving like a maniac!”

  “They’re behind us,” he growled, pointing over his shoulder. “Tahoe.”

  Turning around, I saw a tan Tahoe with tinted windows bouncing along the road behind us. Every time we sped up, so did they.

  Still, I rationalized his paranoia. “Lots of people drive Tahoes.”

  “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

  As we drove farther away from civilization, I panicked, slapping his shoulders and screaming at the top of my lungs. “Let me out of this car! I have to find my daughter and my grandparents!”

  He offered me a quick glance that almost seemed sympathetic. “You don’t have to look for your grandparents. They’re dead.”

  “No!” I shook my head, unable to stop. I shook it until I became dizzy. A strangled cry tore from my throat, and I punched any part of him I could. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did.

  “Would you fucking stop? I’m trying to drive!”

  “You’re lying! It’s not true! You’re—” As the tears rolled, I glanced out the window, seeing nothing but wilderness. There were no houses. No people. Suspicion, pain, and fear swirled in my head.

  Then I recognized it.

  Matty took me out here once, only to warn me to nev
er come back. He knew I liked to wander and made me promise to stay away because he’d heard stories that there were cartel safe houses in these woods.

  At the time, I hadn’t realized it wasn’t a warning.

  It was sound advice from one of their own.

  When I got in this car earlier, I hadn’t realized it wasn’t a talk.

  It was a trap.

  I jerked on the door handle, ready to jump out of a moving car if I had to, but it wouldn’t budge. “Let me out of this car!” I screamed.

  Alex shook his head, his expression almost sad. “I can’t. I told you, they have her. It’s either you or her, Leighton. I can’t hurt a kid. May God forgive me.”

  I stared at him in horror. I’d counted on everything except Alex’s conscience. He was right when he said he’d protect Stella, but the price he’d pay was my life.

  May God forgive me too.

  Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, I grabbed the wheel with both hands and jerked it hard to the right. The sudden turn caused the car to spin into a ditch.

  “Alex?” I coughed, my voice barely a whisper. He didn’t answer. Glancing to my left, I saw him slumped over the wheel. He was unconscious, his face covered in blood.

  I need help.

  I tried to get out of my seat belt, but it was jammed. I thought I yelled for help, but my mind was so fuzzy, I couldn’t remember if it was out loud or in my head.

  That was when I heard the car door slam.

  Then the footsteps.

  Metal grinded together as my door wrenched open, and I saw something silver and shiny coming toward me. I didn’t have the energy to protest as it dug into my chest and sliced me.

  No. That was wrong.

  It sliced the seat belt.

  I’m free.

  Hands reached in and lifted me out of the car, and my head lolled against a strong chest. I was so tired, so I rested my head and closed my eyes. “Thank you.”

  I felt myself being jostled again as another car door opened, and I was thrown onto a hard floor.

  “You’re welcome, little lamb.”

  Forty

  Mateo

  Well, that went well.

  I rested my head against the back wall of the elevator and closed my eyes. No one could ever call me a pussy, but I stood in front of my friend and boss and took his wrath like a man. As his second in command, it’d been my responsibility to keep him informed of everything I’d learned—especially since it involved another high-ranking lieutenant. But when it came to Leighton, the lines between my loyalties became shaded with gray areas I couldn’t explain.

  Not that it mattered. Val wasn’t interested in hearing my justifications. He wanted action and consequence, all dealt by my hand for allowing the situation to escalate to the point it had. I’d accepted his demands, and if I had any brains left in my head, I’d be carrying them out right now.

  Instead, that gray line of loyalty drove my SUV right back to The Houstonian. I owed Leighton an explanation of what had to be done, and I wanted to kiss her one more time. There was a good chance I’d never get the opportunity again, and I needed nothing left unsaid between us.

  The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival and as soon as the doors opened, I headed toward our suite, trying to piece together the words in my head to make her understand.

  “Leighton, we need to talk.” The suite was silent, and after checking everywhere, I stood in the middle of the living room gazing at the hardwood floor. I hoped to hell she was having lunch downstairs or indulging in the resort spa because ignoring Val’s commands again to go searching all over Houston for her would be suicide.

  I dialed the front desk and barked out the question I already knew the answer to. “Did my wife leave the property earlier today?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Alvarez left not long after you did,” the attendant confirmed. “I offered to call a car service for her, but she seemed quite impatient.”

  Val insisted on checking us in under aliases. I thought the extra precaution had been unnecessary but didn’t question it.

  I managed a mumbled, “thank you,” before slamming the receiver down.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, grabbing my hair in my hands. This was the last damn thing I needed. What the hell was she thinking?

  But her disappearing act wasn’t what pissed me off the most. It was her impressive acting skills. The way she’d acted so tired, resting her head on the couch, all the while waiting for me to leave so she could act on whatever vigilante shit she’d concocted in her head.

  I paced the room. She didn’t know what she was doing, and it was going to get her killed. Letting out a roar, I punched the wall. I’d take Val’s bullet, but I couldn’t stand by and let her take one too.

  Grabbing my keys and phone, I’d just opened the door when my phone rang. I considered ignoring it, but when I saw the number on the caller ID, I answered.

  “You have thirty seconds, Bright.”

  “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t mess up,” he said, stuttering over his words.

  I stopped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Your wife.” Bright cleared his throat. “She told me the order came from you, but now I’m not so sure.” As he recounted his conversation with Leighton, the vein in my temple swelled, and I gripped the molding over the door so hard, I almost cracked the wood.

  “Don’t talk to anyone else.” I didn’t trust myself to say more.

  I took my anger out on the road, pushing the limits of the Tahoe to speeds it was never meant to hit. Eight times I called Leighton’s phone. Eight times it kicked straight into voice mail.

  My tires squealed as I slammed on the brakes in front of Caliente. I didn’t even bother pulling around back. I didn’t give a shit who saw me. Startled patrons gasped as I kicked the door open and roared his name as I stomped through the cantina and toward his office.

  “Reyes! Get your fucking ass out here!”

  The waitress who’d tried to handle Leighton when she was piss-ass drunk met me in the hallway. She wasn’t smiling.

  “Where’s Emilio?” I demanded.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, wringing her hands. “I don’t know where anyone is. Sarah never showed up for work. She didn’t call or anything. Emilio was already pissed, but he got a phone call then ran out of here earlier mad as hell. No one has seen him since.”

  I walked away during the second wave of her rant. I’d heard enough. Grabbing my phone, I dialed while climbing into the Tahoe. Once he picked up, there wasn’t time for a greeting.

  “Emilio has Leighton,” I said, slamming my foot on the gas.

  Forty-One

  Leighton

  I tried to open my eyes, but they felt too heavy—stuck even. In a moment of confusion, I wondered if they’d been glued shut. It would make sense.

  No. It wouldn’t make sense. That was stupid. No sane person did something like that.

  Concentrating harder, I tried again, this time forcing them open just enough for a sharp ray of light to pierce through my retina and set it on fire.

  Oh, God, why does my head hurt so bad?

  I blinked, which caused the fire to dig into my brain and explode a pain inside my head that nearly made me vomit.

  Maybe I did get hit by bus?

  Forcing myself to focus, I lifted my head, staring at the white wall in front of me. It was bare except for a clock, which seemed weird. No pictures. No paintings. Just a clock ticking away the seconds as I wrinkled my forehead and tried to figure out where I was and how I got there.

  Ouch.

  The skin on my forehead stung, pulling tight every time I moved it.

  Hell, did someone glue that too?

  Irritated, I lifted my arm to run my fingers across it but stilled when it tugged against something tight and restrictive. Panic swelled in my throat, but I continued to jerk, only succeeding in pulling the muscle in shoulder.

  Because they were behind me. My wrists were taped behind me. I was bound
to a chair.

  “What happened?” I swallowed, my mouth feeling like sandpaper.

  “Welcome to the party, little lamb.”

  I knew that voice. I’d heard it before. I frantically scanned the room, but seeing no one, I forced my mind to think back. The answer was somewhere in my memory.

  I was in a car. Someone was yelling at me. No, I was the one yelling. I was crying. I remembered spinning and then a Good Samaritan saved me.

  “You’re welcome, little lamb.”

  They were the same voice. He’d picked me up and dumped me into the floor of another car. I squeezed my eyes closed, focusing on seeing his face before I’d passed out. Everything was so hazy.

  Then the haze cleared, and I saw his face.

  I drew in a sharp breath. Opening my eyes, I widened them as he stepped in front of me, smoothing a finger over his mustache.

  “Emilio,” I breathed.

  He just grinned. “Hola, señorita. Or should I say señora. So, what is this thing you have I’ve been looking for?”

  I jerked on my restraints again, searching the room for anything I could use to protect myself if he attacked me. Unfortunately, the room was as bare as the walls. Besides a clock, I saw a table, another chair, a body...

  Oh, God!

  Whipping my head back around, I stared in horror at the crumpled female discarded on the floor like a piece of trash. She lay on her stomach, her orange hair fanned around her.

  “Sarah?” I called out, although the chances of her responding were slim to none considering the blood staining her back.

  Emilio shook his head. “Good bartenders are so hard to find.”

  The bastard just stood there with his arms crossed, smirking at me. Then I saw it.

  A skull with half of the jaw missing on his left forearm.

  As I suspected.

  I’d only ever seen Emilio in long sleeves. Today, he had them rolled up to his elbows, answering a question that had plagued me since hiding against a wall in Luis’s apartment.