Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection

by Dakota Willink

  20

  Mia

  I came to as someone roughly slapped my cheeks. The side of my head throbbed where I’d been hit, and they’d obviously not been gentle when they’d transported us because my body ached everywhere. I opened my eyes to find myself in an undecorated room, dank and musty with aged plaster walls crumbling around the edges. Carmen was tied to a chair next to me with silver tape across her mouth, her eyes were wide and frightened, and there was a large scarlet mark across her cheek.

  “The princess is awake,” a man with a thick accent said. I looked up to find the man who’d led the group into my house, the one who looked familiar.

  “Very good, Esteban,” another man answered, before moving into my field of vision. I looked back to Esteban and finally recognized him as the man I’d met at the Underground the night Hayley overdosed. The greater surprise, however, was the new man who’d come to stand before me—Oscar.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked defiantly.

  “Just securing my future, Mia. We need to provide some gentle persuasion to your father. Having him on our side will allow the Soldados de La Muerte to operate unimpeded throughout the city and finally bring about the downfall of your boyfriend’s organization. The city will be ours, as it was always meant to be.”

  “Until an hour or two ago, it was your organization, too.”

  “It’s been longer than that. I’m not one to hang around where I’m not appreciated. Dantes treats me like the hired help. Mendoza made me a teniente the moment I reached out to him.”

  “You’ll never convince my father to join you,” I spat. “He can’t be bought.”

  “Every man has his price, and we learned what the Sheriff’s is tonight. It worked for Dantes during their meeting. I have much greater leverage with you and Carmen here, so I’m pretty sure he’ll switch sides with little hesitation.”

  I struggled against the restraints binding me to the chair. My hands had been zip-tied behind me, so I didn’t do much but make the rickety wooden chair wobble back and forth, which amused the men in the room.

  “Now, I need you to cooperate, or I’ll put bullets in both your heads. I’m going to take a video while you plead for your lives.” Esteban pulled a phone from the breast pocket of his suit, tapping a few buttons on the screen.

  “Tell your father to meet us here. Once he swears his loyalty to us, he can collect you both. If he doesn’t comply, you’ll meet your end. It’s all very simple,” Oscar said. “You can start, Esteban.”

  He moved in closer, aiming the camera at my face. I wanted to just sit there, not cooperating in the slightest, but I believed he’d make good on his threat. I prayed my father would be able to rescue us without selling his soul. I wasn’t sure where to begin, so I sat there, temporarily mute. Oscar came up behind me and yanked my head back by my hair, slapping hard across the face.

  “Speak,” he commanded.

  “D-Dad, we need your help. We’ve been taken by a group called the Sol—" I said, fumbling to repeat the words Oscar had said before.

  “Soldados de La Muerte,” Esteban interjected.

  “They want you to side with them, or they’re going to hurt Carmen and me.” Esteban trained the camera on Carmen, who remained seated next to me, her eyes showing her ongoing terror. “They haven’t really hurt us yet, but they’ve promised to kill us if you don’t go along.”

  “Your turn, Oscar,” Esteban said, turning his phone at the other man.

  “Hello, Sheriff Bernard. As you see, we have something very precious of yours. What Mia says is true. Come to the compound before dawn, and your girls will go home safe and sound. If not, they’ll still go home. In pieces.”

  Esteban tapped a few more buttons on the screen of his smartphone before stuffing it back in his pocket.

  “It’s been sent. What now?”

  “Now, we wait. Check their bindings, slap tape over this one’s mouth, then meet me upstairs for a drink and smoke while we wait.”

  Esteban checked the ties around my wrists, then refastened the bonds holding me in my chair, tightening them so I could barely breathe.

  “You don’t have to go along with this,” I said desperately. “I’m sure my father will pay you well if you set us free.”

  “Oh, cariño, your father can’t afford what it would take for us to give up the opportunity to operate undisturbed in our territory. His complicity is far more valuable than any amount of cash he could come up with,” he said, pulling his gun from his shoulder holster. “That doesn’t mean we can’t make the best of this situation.”

  The sickening grin on his face confirmed the only one having fun would be him, and I feared I knew exactly what he meant. He held the muzzle under my chin as he reached for his belt. I began to tremble as I clamped my jaw shut.

  “Open,” he growled, pushing the gun tighter against the underside of my chin with one hand, while he fumbled with the zipper on his trousers. Just as he reached into his pants, there was a commotion elsewhere in the house—loud shouts, followed by several gunshots.

  “¡Mierda!” Esteban shouted, pulling the gun back from my face, hastily holstering it and refastening his slacks. He quickly grabbed the duct tape and tore off a length before slapping it over my mouth, then looked at me, malice gleaming in his eyes. “We’ll pick this up later, just as soon as I get everything back under control.”

  The door burst open, and Oscar came flying through it, falling heavily to the bare cement floor and sliding across the room. A bright red stain bloomed on the chest of his white dress shirt, one of his eyes already swollen, his lip split and oozing more blood.

  Esteban whirled around, taking aim at the intruders. One loud burst of gun fire ripped through the air, the bullet striking him in the shoulder, taking him down to the ground. Raising the hand still holding his gun, he squeezed off a few rounds. Fire came from Oscar’s direction, and the room became a hail of bullets whizzing all around us. I rocked hard in my chair, doing my best to tip it over and get as low to the ground as I could. Carmen, watching me, began to do the same. It wasn’t long before we both crashed to the ground, my head taking another blow as it smashed against the hard floor. My vision blurred momentarily, but at least this time, I remained conscious.

  I watched as Dantes advanced on Oscar, seemingly oblivious to the danger thick in the room. He fired once, hitting him in the leg, ensuring he’d stay on the ground. Just as Dantes bent over him, his gun aimed directly at Oscar’s forehead, another shot rang out, hitting Dantes in the abdomen. He was knocked off his feet, dropping his own gun to the floor as he clutched his midsection, blood pouring out, coating his hands. I screamed behind the tape covering my mouth, renewing my struggle to escape my bindings.

  The other two men open fired on Esteban, riddling him with bullets before turning to Oscar. Another man bolted through the door, his gun drawn and ready to shoot. It was my dad, closely followed by José, also brandishing a weapon. Without a word, my father dropped to a knee, squeezing off two rounds, one hitting Oscar between the eyes. His head dropped to the floor, bouncing once before his body went still.

  José moved to check Dantes, who was writhing on the floor. Tears poured from my eyes as my trembling increased. Would he survive, or had he already lost too much blood? There was so much of it coating his hands and clothes and pooling on the cement floor.

  The two men who’d come in with Dantes holstered their weapons and began to untie Carmen and me, removing the tape from my mouths. Scrambling across the floor to Dantes’ side, I was relieved when I was able to pick up his shallow breathing. I maneuvered him until I was cradling his head in my lap, the tears streaming down my face as I watched more blood pour from the bullet wound in his belly.

  My father stripped off his shirt, wadding it up, and handed it to me.

  “Use this to put pressure on the wound.”

  I quickly took the clothing and pressed it tightly against him. Looking around, I found José at his daughter’s side, helping her
stand. They limped out of the room, obviously escaping to safety.

  The other two men came to me, gently pushing me toward my father as they heaved Dantes up. I struggled to remain by his side, staunching the massive flow of blood. My father came up alongside me, putting his arm over my shoulders, supporting me as we rushed out of the room.

  We wound our way through an expansive house, obviously once an impressive mansion that had fallen into serious disrepair. A number of dead bodies marked a path to the front door, where outside, three more bodies were found in the circular drive in front of the house. A black Range Rover came screeching to a halt before us, a young man at the wheel.

  I stepped back as the two men loaded Dantes into the car. I broke free from my father and scrambled into the back seat with him, returning his head to my lap.

  “Hang on, Dantes. We’re taking you to the hospital.”

  “Call Hickman, Mateo,” the taller of the two men said. “We can’t take him to a hospital, Mia. It’ll raise too many questions.”

  “Better that than him dying, isn’t it?”

  “Hickman can handle the job. It won’t be the first time,” Mateo said reassuringly, closing the door and hopping into the passenger’s side of the car. His phone was already at his ear. The tall man pounded on the roof, and the young man at the wheel put the car in gear and sped off into the early dawn. I didn’t give a second thought to my father, who stood there, slack-jawed, watching us leave.

  It was a short ride to Dr. Hickman’s house, but it seemed like an eternity. Dantes laid quietly in my arms, his shallow breathing the only outward sign of life, not even wincing or groaning whenever we’d hit a bump in the road.

  When we arrived, we pulled into the driveway, following it alongside the house and around to the back. I quickly jumped out of the car to let the men carry him in. I followed closely behind, unwilling to leave Dantes’ side, only to be brushed away as soon as we met Dr. Hickman, who was standing on the back porch.

  “Take him into the suite,” he ordered. “You stay in the living room, Mia. I’ll be out as soon as I can to give you an update.”

  I paced the floor, waiting for someone to let me know what was going on, whether Dantes was okay. Finally, exhaustion set in. Between the adrenaline crash from the danger we’d been in and my prior intoxication, I was a tired mess. I lowered myself onto a cozy armchair, only to quickly fall asleep, my chin propped in my hand.

  I woke to the sound of a phone ringing and watched as Mateo walked into the room, the device pressed to his ear, listening to his side of the call.

  “He’s in rough shape. It’s more than Hickman can handle. He has him stable for the moment, but he needs a hospital. Hickman said he’ll need imaging to determine if it’s safe to remove the bullet. He thinks it might have lodged in a vital organ. We need to get him to Gonzalez. Can you send the helicopter?”

  “Bueno. We’ll get him to the pick-up location as fast as we can.” Ending the call, he turned to me.

  “I’m calling your father to come get you. We’re flying Dantes to a discreet hospital in Cuba. I’m not going to lie to you, while stable, his condition is critical.”

  “I don’t want to go home,” I said in a rush. “I want to go, too.”

  “It’s going to be hard enough getting everyone past border patrol. We have enough contacts, they won’t think twice about us flying out of the U.S., but getting into Cuba is a little trickier. We have men there, but they can only do so much. The fewer people involved, the better.”

  “I. Am. Going,” I said, digging my heels in. Dantes could be dying, and I’d be damned if I let anyone sideline me, no matter how formidable they seemed. I’d take my chances, risking being caught sneaking into the country.

  “There’s nothing you can do, Mia. Once Dr. Gonzalez has him out of the woods, I’ll see about getting you there, but for now, I’m taking you to the compound where you’ll be safe.”

  I opened my mouth to argue further, determination rising within me, but Mateo gave me a look that said the topic was closed. I sagged back into my seat and waited while he called my dad, my mind whirring. I’d find a way to go with Dantes, even if it meant making a few enemies by going to the top.

  I silently fumed, my arms crossed over my torso the entire way to the Bolivar compound. Mateo glanced at me every now and then, only to shake his head at my petulance before returning his eyes to the road.

  Once we stopped before the large wooden doors to the grand house, I was out of the car, running up the steps and calling for Miguel. Armed guards, who must have been hidden out of sight on Christmas Eve, were standing on either side of the home’s entrance, ready to bar me from entering, the looks on their faces stern and uncompromising.

  “It’s okay,” Mateo called from behind me. “She’s Dantes’ woman… she’s family.”

  One of the men opened the door and stood to the side to let me pass. I gave him a smug look before forgetting him entirely as I entered the foyer. Where on earth would I find Miguel in such an expansive house at this hour? I hoped he wasn’t asleep, then dismissed the thought. Surely, someone had called to let him know what had happened tonight.

  Before I could fret about it any longer, Miguel appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Mia,” he called as he quickly descended, opening his arms once he reached my side. He held me close as fresh tears sprang to my eyes.

  “Miguel, he’s dying, and they wouldn’t let me go with him. I need to be there. I need to be with him,” I said in a rush, clutching the lapels of his linen shirt.

  “Easy, Mia. Come, let’s get you a drink to help calm you down.”

  “I don’t need a drink! I need to be with Dantes. Please, help me.”

  “I will, cariño. I promise, but first, we must settle your nerves. You’ve been through a major trauma tonight.”

  I followed Miguel to his office, where he directed me to the large, overstuffed sofa in the corner before he poured a small amount of whiskey into a crystal tumbler at the built-in wet bar. He handed me the glass before taking the seat next to me. Throwing his arm over my shoulders, he pulled me close to him. I sank into the reassuring warmth of his side as I took a long sip of the alcohol.

  “I’m frantic, Miguel,” I admitted. “I don’t want the whiskey, I don’t want to relax. I want to be by his side.”

  “I understand, but from what I was able to learn from Dr. Hickman, he’s going to require extensive surgery to repair the damage. He won’t be awake for hours. We have time to get you to him so you can be there when he wakes.”

  “You mean if he wakes,” I replied, my face crumbling as my tears took over again.

  “He will. I won’t lie, he’s in danger, but Dr. Gonzalez is no stranger to rescuing my men from the hands of death and patching them up like new. Now, be a good girl and finish your drink while I arrange to have my personal chopper fly you in. We just made a rush request to fly a group out while the federal officers look the other way. To do it again so soon is going to require me to grease a lot more palms,” he said with a chuckle that was a strange contrast to the seriousness of the situation. How could he seem so cavalier when the life of the man he considered a son was on the line? It suddenly dawned on me just who I was dealing with. Shit, this must happen every day in Miguel’s world.

  After what seemed like an eternity of phone call after phone call but was probably no more than half an hour, Miguel came back to the sofa and offered me his hand.

  “My private helipad is just to the west of the property. I’ll escort you there myself. The chopper is already on standby, ready to go. You’ll fly straight into Havana, where a few of my men will meet you. They’ll get you to Dantes as fast as possible. Dr. Gonzalez’ wife, Marina, is arranging food and clothing for you as we speak. I’ll make sure your father knows where you are. Now, if you’re ready, let’s go.”

  I quickly placed the tumbler I’d continued to nurse on the end table next to me. It was just a short ride in a golf cart to the helipad.
Miguel helped me out, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

  “We’ll bring you back through the Bahamas when you’re ready to return. I expect that won’t be for several weeks. When he wakes, let Dantes know, Santiago will handle all business in his plaza while he recovers.”

  “I will. Thank you, Miguel. I’ll never forget this,” I replied gratefully.

  “Don’t worry, muchacha. I’ll never let you,” he said with a good-natured grin before seeing me off into the early morning sky.

  I watched as the sun breached the horizon, praying Dantes was alright.

  21

  Dantes

  I woke to a fuzzy mind, a throbbing pain in my gut, and a young Latina woman hovering over me. I looked around at unfamiliar surroundings, but what was clearly a hospital room.

  “Good morning, handsome,” she said in Spanish. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got shot,” I replied, my throat dry and my voice sounding low and raspy to my ears. “That’s because you did. Would you like some water?”

  “Please,” I replied as she poured some into a cup from a pitcher on the table at my bedside. “Drink slowly. You’ve been under a mild anesthetic for the last few days. Your stomach will be delicate.” I took just enough to quench the sandpaper feeling I had in my mouth.

  “Very good. There’s a young lady here who’s been by your side since you came out of surgery. One of the other nurses finally lured her away to get some rest in one of the empty rooms. Shall I get her?”

  I nodded, knowing the only woman who’d keep vigil by my bed was Mia. The nurse left the room briefly. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before Mia came flying in, rushing to my bedside, a look of relief written all over her face.

  “Dantes, thank God. I was beginning to worry you’d never wake up,” she said, reaching for my hand. I winced slightly as the IV tubing pulled against the needle in my arm, but it was a small nuisance compared to my need to reach out and touch her.