Vicious Angel: A Dark Mafia Romance (Criminal Sins Book 2)

by Sasha Leone

  I know I should give Catalina a kiss goodbye, if even only for the morale of the men who’ve been tasked to protect her, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

  We’re not just two star-crossed lovers anymore, we’re parents, and we’ve failed our child.

  “Please find Oscar,” Cat begs, her voice is as frail as ever. The only thing keeping her on her feet are the two men propping her up on either side.

  If there’s one thing that connects us in this moment, it’s our shared misery. At least I know I’m not the only one suffering...

  ... That ends up being enough; it’s the one thing that finally draws my chest to hers.

  Somehow, despite my numbness, I find my lips pressed against Cat’s. Bad idea. The shivering warmth of her kiss threatens to weaken me ever more. I pull back and give her one last look.

  To my surprise, a little life seems to have re-appeared behind her fractured hazel eyes. I guess that kiss was more for her than for me...

  For a small moment, I wonder if I should say something, anything. Don’t worry. Oscar will be safe. Promise. I love you.

  None of it feels quite right, not right now.

  So, instead of saying my goodbyes, I let my kiss linger on her spirit. The second I turn around, though, I force myself to forget about her lips. They’re only a distraction.

  I rip my way into the beat-up old Pinto and roar down the street without another look or word. My heart races and my chest pounds, and a fiery whirlwind swirls inside of me as I try to focus.

  Which way did they take Oscar?

  Despite all of Juan’s help, we’ve never been able to figure out where Dante has been hiding out, and it’s not like I can call my old advisor up for a hint—I gave my phone to those men so that I could stay in contact with Catalina. I’m completely on my own right now.

  For a while there, I thought Cat might be my soul mate, but if she is, then why did I feel so numb when we had to say goodbye?

  You didn’t feel numb when you kissed her...

  I’m still angry at her. We’d all be safe right now if she had just listened—but I also know that I didn’t fall for her in the first place because she followed my orders like everyone else. She’s never been a rug to walk over, so why did I suddenly expect her to be? Because of Oscar?

  If anything, our son has only made her more stubborn; it’s only made me more stubborn, too. We’ve both changed enough that I don’t even know what my true feelings are anymore.

  Everything is in chaos.

  I shred through the fire and the violence of the slums, completely lost.

  Where am I going?

  The faster I drive, the more uncertain I become.

  I feel like a different man from the one I was before I met Cat. The old me never doubted himself so much; the old me never failed so much; the old me never dared to love so much...

  The steering wheel nearly caves under the strength of my tightening grip. My knuckles go white and my vision goes red. The frustration and anger and regret and despair that whirl around behind my chest threaten to tear me apart.

  Up ahead, I see a firefight ripping through the streets. I try to peer through the flames to see if any cars are caught in the destruction.

  Nothing.

  A hard right turn sends me down another road; this one leads to midtown Cali. There’s no way Dante’s there, but right now I’m just trying to get out of here.

  But it’s like fate doesn’t want me to leave. A few blocks into this new street, and I’m heading straight into another battle. An explosion rocks the base of a four-story cement building and it comes crumbling down before my eyes.

  I swerve onto the nearest avenue, but even that isn’t a viable option. A bullet catches the hood of the old Pinto and the engine sputters and growls. I slam an open fist against the steering wheel just as another volley of wayward bullets slash through the front tires.

  “Fuck!”

  My only way out of here collapses under its own weight and I’m thrown forward. Somehow, I manage to press down on the breaks hard enough to come to a screeching stop before I can ram into the nearest building.

  The driver’s door bursts off its hinges under the strength of my shoulder, and I spill out onto the pockmarked sidewalk and into the flames. Smoke rises from the Pinto and I have to scramble away to avoid the blast that follows.

  In the distance, another building falls.

  My heart aches as I realize there’s no way out of this chaos I’ve caused. I’ve blown every bridge and blocked off every street just to keep my family safe, and all it’s done is kept me from them even more.

  Somewhere nearby, I hear the sound of approaching voices barking unfamiliar orders and I force myself to stumble into the nearest alleyway.

  Blood seeps from my shoulder as I disappear into the darkness, my eyes desperately searching for any sign of my son.

  But my brain knows better. He’s not here. Oscar is gone.

  I’ve failed him.

  27

  Catalina

  My eyelids flutter open and for one amazing moment, I dare to hope that I just awoke from a nightmare.

  “Catalina!?” The familiar voice drags me back to reality. Horrible memories of fire and violence cloud my vision and I groan with pain as I remember that my baby boy has been taken from me.

  “Catalina!?” I don’t want to look. I don’t deserve to ever see anything ever again. I’m a failure of a mother and I’d be better off dead. “Where’s Angel, Catalina?”

  Juan’s tone doesn’t match my anguish. A small part of me wants to lash out at him, but the dread is too heavy to break through. Everything that could have gone wrong has gone wrong.

  “Where’s Angel?” Juan repeats, and his words bounce around in my fractured mind like shrapnel.

  “I don’t know,” I snap, somehow gaining the strength to lunge out of my fetal position. “Where’s Oscar!?” A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead from even saying the words. They only serve as a reminder of my failure.

  Juan doesn’t answer my question right away, and that makes two things very clear. Oscar isn’t with Angel, and he is almost certainly with Dante. “I’m not sure,” Juan finally lies.

  “Bullshit!” I sob. “Dante has him...”

  Another tense silence fills up the space between us. Eventually, it’s interrupted by an opening door. “Still no word?” Juan asks.

  “Nothing,” answers a familiar voice. I look up to see one of the men who helped me escape the chaos last night. Wait, was it last night? Two nights ago? More? I can hardly remember...

  In the man’s hand, he holds the cellphone Angel gave to him. It’s dark and quiet.

  “How are you feeling, Catalina?” the man asks.

  I choke back my pain and try to be grateful. “Fine, thank you,” I lie, before adding, “thank you for your help last night.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t get there sooner...” he sulks. “We’ll do whatever we can to help find your son.” His words are well-intentioned but they cut through my heart like barbed wire.

  Juan sits up from his bedside chair and gestures for the two of them to talk outside. When the door closes behind them, a cold chill runs over my skin.

  I’m alone.

  My family has been shattered. My life has been taken from me. The country burns because of us.

  I should have listened to Angel...

  Suddenly, my pitiful daze is broken by the familiar buzz of a ringing cell phone. I look over to where Juan was just sitting and I see that he left Angel’s phone behind.

  My first reaction is to lunge for it, but when my fingers wrap around the ringing device, I can’t help but hesitate to answer.

  What if it’s not Angel? What if someone has killed him? What if they’re calling to taunt me? What if all hope is truly lost?

  My dying heart kicks and screams, but my thumb falls against the answer icon.

  “Hello!?” It’s Angel’s voice.

  “Angel?”

 
; “Cat?”

  “Do you have...” I can’t finish. Daring to hope has only ever led me to more misery.

  “No,” Angel mumbles, and I can practically hear his head drop in shame.

  Oscar is still missing.

  “Are you alright?” he asks.

  For some reason, I can’t bring myself to lie to him. “No.” the truth is cold and flat and awful.

  “Same,” he broods.

  For a second, neither of us say a word. Then...

  “Where are you?”

  I furrow my brows and my head pounds with heartache. My visions blurs and I have to pinch my nose to refocus. When I can see again, nothing seems familiar. “I don’t know...” I mumble.

  “Are you safe?”

  “I think so.”

  “Who are you with?”

  I look over to the doorway that the two men just walked out of. “Juan was just here.”

  “Can you give him the phone?” Angel asks, but I don’t want to.

  Even though we’re just talking over the phone, I feel a little less lonely, a little less broken. We’re both two shattered people, two failed parents, two awful protectors...

  But still, the kiss Angel gave me before he went after Oscar lingers on my lips. The warmth soothes me enough to sit up from my bed. “I’ll go find him.”

  Juan and the man he left with are just outside the door. When I open it up, they stop talking and look my way. Juan’s eyes go wide when he sees the bright cell phone in my hand.

  “Angel?” he asks.

  I nod.

  The phone switches hands and I’m left cold and alone again. Juan starts to pace as he talks to Angel, and my mind drifts off.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” The man who helped me the other night stands with his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m fine, thank you.” I suddenly realize I never got his name. I’m about to ask when Juan gives me the answer.

  “Aldar, let’s go!” he orders, stuffing the cell phone in his pocket. I guess Angel didn’t want to talk to me anymore...

  A sharp pain cuts through the dull ache that ravages my body at the thought of what’s going through Angel’s mind right now. He must blame me for everything, right? He was ready to whisk us off to safety, and I refused...

  Juan and Aldar are at the staircase before I snap out of my daze. “Hey!” I call after them, desperately not wanting to be alone anymore. “Can I come?”

  The two men share a look of concern.

  “We don’t have enough security here, anyways,” Aldar bats for me.

  Juan sighs. “Fine.” He turns to me and gestures to follow him. “If we have to, can you run?”

  I take a fragile step forward and my sore body clenches with countless aches and pains. “Yes,” I answer, unsure if it’s the truth or not.

  “Very well. Let’s go,” I follow as Juan and Aldar skip down the steps. My legs are wobbly but I manage to keep up. When we step outside, though, I stop for a moment to study my surroundings.

  Nothing is recognisable.

  We’re clearly not in the slums anymore, but this doesn’t look like downtown or midtown either. “Are we still in Cali?” I ask, as Aldar opens up the backdoor to a sleek black Mercedes for me.

  “Sort of,” Juan answers, slamming the passenger door shut behind him.

  My brain is too scrambled to ask any more questions. I slink down into the plush leather seats of the luxury car and let the comfort ease my worried mind.

  Aldar gets in the driver’s seat and we pull out of a circular driveway. The four-story colonial mansion that we just left slowly starts to disappear behind us. For a split-second, I swear I can see a woman and two young children staring out at the car through a third-floor window. A young boy, old enough to stand, waves goodbye. I can’t help but wave back.

  Where the hell are we?

  Aldar pulls out onto a dirt road and promptly stomps his foot against the accelerator. The car bursts forward and I fall further into the back seat. Out of my window, I can see the tips of jungle trees swaying just over top of the large grey partitions that border the makeshift highway.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “To pick up Angel,” Juan states the obvious. He’s focused on his phone, but I have nothing to focus on but him. The last thing I want to do is get lost in my misery again. Right now, distraction is my friend.

  “Where is Angel?”

  Juan pockets his phone and glances back at me. “Getting ready.”

  A small thread of anxiety tightens around my throat. I try to swallow it down. “Getting ready for what?”

  “The final battle.”

  28

  Angel

  A plume of dust rises in the distance and I prepare myself to see her again.

  How long has it been since our little family was forcefully torn apart? Two days? Three?

  It feels like an eternity, but I’ve been working the whole time.

  The first face I see when the car pulls up is Juan’s. The slick black Mercedes comes to a stop on the dusty makeshift tarmac and he immediately hops out of the passenger’s seat. His eyes don’t fall on me, though, instead, he gazes at the idling jumbo jet behind me.

  “Everything’s here already?” he asks, stupefied.

  I fucking wish. “No,” I tell him, as he rushes up to shake my hand. His fingers fall against my shoulder and I try to hide the wince of pain that wants to cross my face. I’m still sore as hell, but I’ve been desperately trying to fight off all of my aches in favor of more important matters.

  Oscar. “Cat...”

  She looks just as sore as I feel. Both of her hands grip the back door as she pulls herself out of the car. The driver rushes forward to help her; I’m not far behind.

  “Thank you, Aldar,” she whispers, and I take over for the man I recognize from that horrible night.

  “Thank you,” I echo. “You did good, kid.” He couldn’t be much younger than I am, but he’s clearly new to this life. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was a welder or a plumber or something before this revolution broke out—now, he’s working for the former cartel king of Colombia.

  Future cartel king, too, I have to remind myself. I’m not giving up yet. I can’t.

  They have my son.

  I try to take Cat’s weight under my shoulder, but the second I do, she pulls away. She wobbles for a second, unsteady on her own two feet, before grabbing onto the door again to even herself out.

  She clearly doesn’t want my help, and it only serves to get me all the more riled up. What the fuck is her deal? I’m the one who should be angry here.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. I already know what’s wrong. Everything.

  “Where have you been?” she suddenly breaks. Pain fills her voice and tears well up in her eyes. I can see Oscar in Cat’s scrunched up nose as she tries not to cry.

  We need to talk.

  But first, I need to tell Juan what’s going on. I let my hand fall onto Cat’s as she steadies herself against the car door. This time, she doesn’t pull away. “I’ll be right back,” I swear, before turning from her.

  I gesture Juan forward and Aldar follows close behind. “So, this plane is going to go get the gear?” Juan asks. “How long will that take?”

  “Hopefully no more than two days.”

  “Probably more than that,” Juan grumbles.

  “Where’s it going?” Aldar asks.

  France. Ireland. Morocco. “Overseas,” I reply, purposefully vague. Aldar may have earned my respect by taking care of Cat for me, but it takes a little longer to earn my trust.

  “And what’s it bringing back?”

  “Firepower.”

  “Enough to take down a fucking army,” Juan smirks.

  I look over my shoulder, back at Catalina. She’s glaring at us like a vengeful ghost. We’re not moving fast enough. Our baby’s at risk, and in her eyes, we’re just standing around catching up.

  I need to tell her wha
t’s going on. “You guys go check it out, make sure there’s enough room for everything. I’m going to talk to Cat.”

  I see them off, then turn back to my real duty.

  The sharp heaviness that I’ve desperately been trying to ignore over the past few days finds its way back into the forefront of my mind. The only thing that keeps me from crumpling over is the knowledge that Cat’s feeling the same awful thing.

  We may be failures, but at least we can wallow in our misery together.

  ... Or maybe not. I just don’t know what kind of company she’s going to make right now.

  “I’m sorry,” those are the first words out of my mouth. It seems like Cat is the only person who’s ever made me feel so apologetic. Sure, I forgave Juan upon my return to Colombia, but I don’t think I would have ever even done that if Cat hadn’t taught me how to first.

  I wonder if any of this would have happened if she hadn’t changed me so much...

  “Sorry for what!?” her response is cutting, but for some reason it gives me hope. Do I sense that same fire in her that I first fell for?

  “Well, now I’m sorry for apologizing,” I bite back.

  Cat doesn’t flinch. She looks fed up and too exhausted to mask any true feelings, no matter how raw.

  “What’s going to happen?” she asks, her lower lip trembling.

  I keep my response simple. “We’re going to get Oscar back.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’re going to win this war.”

  Cat’s big brown eyes shimmer as she tries to buy into my confidence. I don’t blame her doubt. So much has fallen apart that even I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to put it back together again. All I can do is press forward.

  Finally, Cat seems to win her little self-battle, if even just for the time being. “How?”

  My knuckles whiten as I clench my fists. Visions of what I’m going to do to all those who’ve crossed us turn my eyes red. “You see that plane?” I say, turning around so that she can see past me. “It’s going to visit our old friend, Cyrus Kane. He can’t spare any men right now—he’s fighting his own wars—but him and the Rio Syndicate, along with a Russian friend I made in Paris, are sending us some army-busting equipment. They see our chaos as an opportunity; they know we can win and take over an entire country.”