I smirked brazenly. “So you know of his reputation.” I knew intimidation when I saw it. The rumors of Luka’s ruthlessness as The Undertaker had obviously reached Javier somehow. “Just wait until you see him mad.”
All amusement vanished from Javier’s face in an instant. “You seem to be forgetting what my anger looks like. Not to worry, though. You’ll be reminded of that soon enough.”
He then raised his hand and crooked his finger, gesturing to someone behind him. That’s when I heard movement coming from the direction of Luka’s office. Of course, I should have known. He never went anywhere without his own personal security. Two of his hulking men stepped into the light, dragging a third person between them.
A sob was ripped from my throat. The dumbbell slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a resounding thud.
“Luciana.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep my sounds of agony at bay. She was so much skinnier. Her once golden skin was nearly translucent. Her rich, brown hair was stringy and greasy. She was obviously malnourished. Her face was mottled with bruises, some healed and some fresh, along with cuts and scars she hadn’t had the last time I saw her.
What in God’s name had they done to my precious sister? Had Javier had her this entire time and my coming to Brooklyn had been a complete waste? Or had he just tracked her down once he’d discovered where I was and was using her as collateral?
Tears streamed down her face when she saw me. Her eyes were desperate, begging me to save her, like I’d always promised I would. She had always relied on her big sister to be there for her, and for the first time in her life, when she really needed me, where the hell had I been?
Javier grinned as he held out his hand. “You either come with me, Catalina”—when he gave another hand signal, one of his men placed a wicked-looking knife at Luciana’s throat—“or I spill her blood right here.”
I screamed.
It was an instinctive reaction at seeing such a deadly weapon anywhere near my little sister. There was obvious terror in her eyes, but also heartbreaking acceptance. As if she’d had time to prepare for her death.
That drained every ounce of fight I had left in the tank.
I couldn’t let her lose all hope and welcome her ending with open arms. Or, God forbid, wish for it. I had failed her in the worst way by not protecting her. It wouldn’t happen again.
I would correct all of it.
She would have her youthful vibrance back. Her spunky enthusiasm, her carefree smiles. She would return to her life, even if I didn’t get to be there to see it lived out.
“Fine.” My voice was so low, I barely heard it. “I’ll come with you if you let her go right now. Leave her here and take me.”
Javier sighed. “Surely, you can understand why I cannot do that. She will come with us, only to ensure your cooperation. However, once we are back in Mexico and my interests are secured, then I will let her go.”
“Unharmed?”
“You have my word that she will not be touched.” When he extended his hand again, I wanted to wretch. “Come, mi reina. Let us go home.”
I didn’t take his hand.
But I did step forward.
Toward my impending doom.
Once I stood next to Javier, he slid his hand around my neck and lowered his mouth to my ear. “Your acquiescence wasn’t necessary. You would have come with me, one way or another. Because I never lose, Catalina. I just love seeing your defeat.”
And I’d promised Luka I would never give up.
I would never see him again. We’d never have the life I’d pictured us having together. I would have happily lived in that shoebox-sized apartment with him for the rest of my days, so long as I got to keep him.
I’m so sorry, corazón.
I felt the prick of something sharp replace Javier’s hand on my neck.
Then everything went dark.
The next time I opened my eyes, however long after that, everything was still dark. And…confined.
I raised my hand, only to find a hard barrier just above my head. A wall or a lid? There was another barrier on my left, same thing on my right. I barely had enough room to wiggle—
Ay, dios.
I was being buried alive.
“She’s not fucking here.”
Why the hell wasn’t she at the gym? When I’d first walked through the doors and found the building empty, I’d hoped we caught her on her way back to the hospital. That was it, we’d just missed her.
But when I tried calling her cell, it said the line had been disconnected.
Then I’d seen the dumbbell on the floor, right next to a big scuff, like someone had dropped it. Those dumbbells were replaced on their racks every night before closing, and I knew that one hadn’t been there hours ago. So, unless I had a poltergeist situation on my hands, someone had been in the gym earlier.
And now they were gone.
“The security cameras were disabled,” Ace announced as he walked out of my office.
I spun around. “What?”
He nodded gravely. “About an hour ago. Full system shutdown. Nothing shows up on video, so there’s no way to tell who did it.”
I was about to break all my goddamn teeth from grinding them together so hard. I paced across the floor, fingers interlocked on top of my head, trying to fucking think. Rome’s absence was more obvious than ever because he was always the one I could count on to calm my shit down, to always say the right thing to get me to refocus.
Something silver and shiny on the floor caught my eye. A gum wrapper? Wedged between the bar of the squat machine and the training mat, I was surprised I even spotted it. Bending down to retrieve it, I felt a surge of hope spring forth. A feeling that was only strengthened after I lifted the piece of trash to my nose and sniffed.
“What d’ya got?” Bryce asked, coming up behind me.
I handed him the wrapper. “What does that smell like to you?”
He sniffed. Considered. “Cinnamon?”
I nodded as the gears cranked in my brain. “Big Red gum.”
“How is that significant?”
“I once overheard Cat say she hated the smell of cinnamon because her ex used to chew Big Red gum constantly. It always reminded her of him.”
She never knew I’d been eavesdropping on her conversation with Deja that first morning at the gym. When I’d heard her first mention “the ex,” I’d been livid. Just the notion of another man being in her life long enough to have a smell associated with him had driven me crazy with jealousy.
“Shit,” Bryce spat. “It’s something, but it’s still circumstantial.”
“He was here. He took her.” I knew it down to the depths of my soul.
That cocksucking motherfucker has my woman.
I turned to face my brothers and father, who’d all converged on us. “Ortega’s got Cat.”
Dad met my gaze. “You’re certain?”
“One hundred fucking percent.”
“You’re sure she didn’t just leave?” Nico asked. “She seemed pretty shaken up after we got to the hospital.”
Remembering the things said in that hospital chapel, the confessions we’d shared, the promises we’d made, I had no doubt. “I’m positive. She wouldn’t have left like that.”
Not without talking to me.
Not now.
“Then where would he have taken her from here?” Cris asked. “Back to Mexico City?”
“I’d say it’s likely, considering that’s his turf,” Bryce speculated. “That’s where he’s got the connections and probably cartel protection.”
I could barely think past the rage. The idea that this psychotic prick would take her out of the country against her will, hold her hostage, thousands of fucking miles away from me…
“Do we have an address for him?” Dad asked Ace.
The tech guru pulled out his phone. “There was one listed in the city—”
“He won’t be there.”
&n
bsp; All six of us whipped out our guns and pointed them in the direction of the newcomer’s voice. But when I saw who stood just inside the doors of my gym, I holstered my weapon. “Put your guns away. He’s clear.”
Bryce looked unconvinced. He stared hard at the stranger when he stepped further inside the room. “Care to introduce us, Luka?”
“This is Alek Tyrone. I know him from my fighting days. He runs the Chicago underground circuit.”
Bryce glared. “Wouldn’t that mean he works for Rocco Sandoval?”
Alek smirked. “You could say I work more for my father who works with Sandoval.”
“Apples and oranges. I don’t trust people with split loyalties.”
Alek clasped his hands behind him, unperturbed. “I’m sure your bosses at the PD would say the same about you, Detective.”
Bryce gnashed his teeth. “My loyalties all belong to the same side. Yours…not so much.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “We don’t have time for this. I can vouch for Alek, so that ought to be good enough for everyone. He’s had my back enough times that I’d trust him to have any of yours.”
Bryce and Alek’s stare down continued for several more seconds before Bryce eventually lowered his gun.
Alek watched the movement with amusement, his steely resolve unfettered as always. “Nice to meet you too. Happy to be here.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I suddenly realized I never got you a Christmas gift, buddy.” He reached inside his jacket and handed me a large, rolled up piece of paper.
“Blueprints?”
Alek rocked back on his heels. “To Javier Ortega’s secret compound, just outside Mexico City.”
“What?” Ace blurted out, elbowing me to get a look at the prints. “A secret compound didn’t pop up on my research.”
“That’s because his name isn’t on any deed or documents associated with the property,” Alek explained. “An unmarried police lieutenant with no rich relatives owning that large of an estate would raise some serious eyebrows with the brass.”
“Then how does he own it?” Nico asked. “Like you said, he’s just a police lieutenant. How’s he making that kind of money?”
Alek looked around at each of us, perplexed. “I assumed you guys had already made the connection.”
Ace frowned. “Connection with what?”
Alek met my gaze when he dropped the proverbial ball. “Javier Ortega is El Escorpion.”
It felt like an IED just exploded in front of my face. Bright lights burst behind my eyelids, a loud, sharp ringing had my eardrums vibrating. I felt dizzy as fuck. I actually had to lean against the leg press machine before I fell on my ass.
“What the fuck.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
I think that was Dad’s voice, but I couldn’t identify much beyond the disorienting ringing.
Alek averted his gaze away from Dad. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was a morsel of shame lurking there. “You all know the kind of business Rocco Sandoval is in.” Yeah. The drug lord of the Midwest. Gun runner too. “Let’s just say he’s been chummy with Ortega for years.”
“Why Ortega?” Cris asked. “I thought the Garcias had been running the Mexican drug trade for decades.”
Alek inclined his head. “And for a long time, they were. Then a guy going by the nickname El Escorpion came onto the scene and suddenly, rumor was that he was giving the orders. That even Alonso Garcia was no longer highest on the food chain. From what we’ve managed to find out, Ortega actually started with the cartel. He worked in the organization for a while before eventually branching out on his own. He must have realized that he could fly under the radar as a cop because he joined the force not long after that.”
Ace frowned. “How did Ortega rise in the ranks like that? A poor kid who’d spent time in juvie? How did he end up with Alonso Garcia under his thumb?”
“His badge,” Bryce muttered, drawing everyone’s attention. “I did a brief check on him after speaking to him on the phone. He’s friends with a lot of Mexican politicians, including some foreign ambassadors. There were even articles about him possibly running for office in the future. A high-ranking cop with those kinds of connections would have nearly unlimited resources.”
Alek looked at Bryce like a proud father. “Right you are, Detective. And as you specifically found out, he’s got a chameleon-like personality. He can blend into almost any situation and charm the pants off of all kinds of people.” Alek then added pointedly, “He can fool even the most trained individuals.”
Bryce looked away, jaw clenching with anger.
I didn’t say anything, didn’t comment. Just listened to the voices around me and absorbed what I needed to know.
“So, he started out as a drug dealer,” Cris said, thinking out loud, “and is now broadening his horizons into human trafficking?”
Alek made a noise of affirmation. “The death of Diego Suarez opened a lot of doors for him. And when Raphael Esposito expressed interest in the trafficking game, that opened even more. My sources told me that he’s been looking for a US business partner for some time.”
“You’re saying Ortega’s not only trafficking women through our city,” Nico worked out, “but that he’s about to launch a full-scale drug operation with the mafia and cartel?”
“High-grade cocaine, from what we’re hearing,” Alek confirmed. “The purest form you can get on the streets.”
I was losing the battle of keeping the reins on my roiling emotions secured. I just couldn’t get the image of Ortega lying bloodied and lifeless at my feet out of my fucking head. Let alone, what the hell he was doing to Cat. If I ventured too far down that road, my head would seriously splinter in two.
This was usually where Rome stepped in.
Goddammit!
My brother was clinging to life in a fucking hospital, and a stark-raving lunatic had stolen my girl. The woman I loved more than anything was in the hands of a maniacal tyrant who was obsessed with her.
“Ortega has to be stopped,” Dad stated. “We cut off his supply and Raphael will lose his inventory of drugs…and women.” His voice croaked on the last word, and we all knew why.
Gia had been among those women. His own daughter.
Our sister.
Alek nodded down at the blueprints. “Which is why I thought you might need this.” He rubbed his hands together. “What’s the plan, Undertaker?”
Bryce scoffed. “You’re coming?”
Still looking at me, Alek jerked his thumb in Bryce’s direction. “It’s so cute how he’s still pretending he doesn’t like me.”
“Who’s pretending?”
Alek winked at the detective over his shoulder. “I’ll grow on you, cop.” His voice then turned serious when he addressed me again. “I’ll take Rome’s place.” He shrugged. “You know, since the lazy ass is just lounging around in bed, sleeping all day.”
I snorted.
“You any good in a fight?” Dad asked.
Alek laughed. “No one’s ever told me otherwise.”
Dad shot a sidelong glance my way.
I nodded solemnly.
Alek wasn’t just good. He was freakishly lethal. I once saw him take out four armed men with nothing but a taxidermy deer antler.
Dad turned to me. “Then let’s talk strategy.”
Everyone was fucking looking at me.
And I didn’t have Rome beside me.
They usually turned to both of us when we were at this point. When it came time to plan and strategize, discuss tactics and escape routes. For the first time since we joined the Army together, I would be going into battle without my twin.
Without the goddamn other half of my brain.
My voice of reason, my conscience.
Rome was smarter than me when it came to logistics. He had broader vision, a by-product of years’ worth of sniper missions. He was the pragmatic one who could have definitely risen in the m
ilitary ranks if he’d wanted to. Secretly, I’d always suspected he got out when I did because he’d known I needed out. Would I have suffered a mental break if I’d stayed in? We’ll never know. But I think he’d felt obligated to follow. To not leave me on my own in the civilian world.
“Luka?”
I lifted my gaze to Dad. To my family.
Who were all counting on me to keep my shit together, Rome or no Rome, and complete a successful mission.
Cat was counting on me.
With a curt nod, I shoved to my feet. “All right, here’s what I’m thinking…”
I’m gonna get you back, baby girl.
Because we still have unfinished business.
The first time I ever met Javier Ortega was at my own quinceañera. I was only fifteen years old and wondering why in the world a group of scary-looking men with guns had suddenly invaded my party.
“Who are those men, Má?” I asked my mother in our native language. “Why are they here?”
Má’s face was scrunched in concern as she glanced toward the window of our modest home, where we could see my papí talking with a group of dark-clothed men with tattoos and automatic weapons. Papí had been noticeably uneasy ever since they’d first arrived at my birthday party.
“I don’t know, mija,” she answered in a soft voice. “But I’m sure everything is fine.” She forced a smile onto her face, though it was tight with worry. “Why don’t you go join your friends? A young woman’s quinceañera only comes around once.”
Her words did nothing to reassure me, but I didn’t want to cause her further stress. My family didn’t often have reasons to celebrate, and my parents had saved their money for a long time to be able to afford my dress, cake, and decorations. The hot pink, poofy dress was by far the fanciest thing I’d ever owned and my mother had cried when she’d first seen me in it. The bodice was beautifully embellished with rhinestones and sequins. The skirt was a bit cumbersome, but it was the first time in my life I’d ever felt like a princess, so it didn’t really bother me.
Today was supposed to be a day of fun and fellowship with my friends and family.
And whoever these men were, they didn’t belong.
They didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh.
Glitter and Greed (Brooklyn Brothers #4) Page 29
