Saved by a Sinner

by A G Henderson

  What was a plan without a backup? And then a backup for that backup. My brothers were my trump card. If things went sideways, they would do everything in their power to get my woman out of there, and they wouldn't stop until they had reached Oakdale and seen the whites of Creed's eyes.

  CHAPTER 29 - Sylvia

  Do not freak out. Do not freak out. Do not freak out.

  Repeating my inner litany on an endless loop had served me well for however much time had passed since Carlos and his brothers had loaded me into the back of a huge Escalade. I wasn’t tracking how long that had been very well because most of my focus was on trying not to hyperventilate while breathing through the black hood covering my face.

  Easier said than done, especially when I couldn’t pull the cloth away from my mouth the way I wanted to because of the stupid fucking handcuffs!

  I jerked my wrists apart, chain rattling between them. The cuffs bit into my skin and I winced, breath hissing between my teeth. This was a dumb, dumb plan and I had no one to blame but myself.

  “You good, amiga?” Manuel asked, and I could vaguely make out his form turning in the driver's seat to look back at me. “We’re coming up on Narciso’s spot in a moment.”

  I counted to ten, slowly. It didn’t help.

  “Good? Good? How about I cuff you and throw a fucking hood over your head for a fucking hour and we’ll see how good you are?”

  “Allow me to translate,” said Isaac. “She’s not good.”

  “Gracias.” Manuel’s voice was dry enough to make a camel thirsty. “I never would’ve figured that out.”

  “De nada, culo.”

  Do not freak out. Do not freak out. This was your plan. Do not freak out.

  The sound of tires crunching over what I assumed was a gravel driveway had me going completely still, anxiety tucked away for a moment. In its place was a feeling I certainly hadn't expected going into this, yet there it was. Dread crawled up the base of my spine like bone cold fingers belonging to some ancient creature.

  For a long moment, I was puzzled by the acidic ball of lead forming in my stomach. What was it doing there? Worrying about a coming fight was unlike me. If there was one thing Creed and I had in common, it was that neither of us shied away from getting blood up to our elbows. The fight used to be the only thing I could rely on to bring me back to life for a few fleeting, heart pounding moments.

  Wait. Used to be?

  We slowed to a stop and I heard the sound of a car door opening and closing up ahead over the stillness of the night. Without being able to see more than shadows through the tinted windows, I could still make out Carlos moving to my side of the vehicle. My heart lurched painfully in my chest, the dread building on itself in giant blocks sized perfectly to fall upon my shoulders and weigh me down.

  When he pulled me from the vehicle and the soothing touch of his hand on the small of my back registered, it all clicked. The dread. The worry. The sudden urge to hop back up into the colossal truck, pull him up with me, and get the hell out of dodge.

  I understood why Creed had flatly stated he wouldn’t be coming to my rescue again if I went off the deep end. Why the most bloodthirsty, yet honorable, monster I had ever known had taken himself off the front lines in which he thrived. It was because with Caitlin, he had something infinitely more important than the next victory.

  He'd already won.

  It was so cheesy I nearly choked on it, but by falling for Carlos, letting him in, so had I.

  I had won.

  I had beaten the demons responsible for scorching my entire being in a painful blaze and turning my soul to ash. There was life there now, the beginnings of a garden full of hopes and joys and dreams. Each seed a product of the love Carlos showered me with when he worshipped every part of me.

  Except I knew very well how new that life was. How fragile. How very much I relied on the man at my side. How lost I would be without him.

  “Diosa,” he prompted softly, and I realized I was standing frozen, bare feet glued to the ground. Gravel bit into sensitive skin but the pain hardly registered over the panic. “What's wrong?”

  Thorns wrapped around my heart, squeezing tighter by the second. My throat closed on its own, threatening to choke me. Forcing the words past it was like throwing up nails but I did it anyway. We were beyond secrets, Carlos and I. Even if this particular one was something I would've once kept firmly to myself.

  I reached out, tugging at the arms of his sleeves with trembling fingers. The air stirred with his scent as he lowered his head towards me without needing to be asked. I stepped in closer, pressing my lips to his ear through the cloth partition. “I can’t lose you,” I whispered. “The possibility of it terrifies me. The reality…” I couldn’t finish. Speaking would make it too real.

  He sighed, fingers sneaking beneath my shirt to stroke the skin there. I picked up on the cinnamon smell of the gum he only chewed when he was worried about concealing his own reactions. “Sweetheart, I won’t let-”

  “Eyes on us,” Manuel barked suddenly and Carlos stood straighter, stepping away. The loss of his touch was a robbery I blamed his brother for, despite the necessity. “Don’t forget we have to sell this shit.”

  I hated to admit it - especially because something about Manuel brought out the petty in me - but he was right. To give us all the best chance of making it out of here alive, I needed to play my role.

  Carlos gave the order and we moved out. The three of them boxed me in like a triangle with him at the front and I exhaled, adopting a different set of mannerisms.

  I drug my feet and let my shoulders slump forward. I kept my head down, eyes on the ground, completing the picture of defeat. I tripped intentionally and a large hand banded around my bicep, pulling me back upright. At the contact, I hissed between my teeth and jerked away, elbows swinging harder than was likely needed. I made contact with something solid and earned myself a grunt from Manuel as he roughly shook me before letting go.

  Sadly, bruising his ribs wasn’t enough to brighten my mood, no matter how necessary this performance was. Thanks to the ever-oscillating hands of fate, depraved asshole was the third language I was fluent in. Fourth, if you counted my overall proficiency with anything sharp edged. My point being, I knew how their minds worked. A side effect of being exposed to their particular brand of poison.

  Men like Narciso wanted their toys pliant, maybe even a little damaged, but not defeated. No, that wouldn’t do, because then they would lose out on the actual moment of breaking something that gave them the feeling of being powerful they always chased. The only feeling they could actually enjoy. The only feeling that could reach the shriveled, blackened husk where a heart was supposed to be.

  I carefully ascended a set of stairs and felt my guys - including Manuel’s annoying ass - go tense. My head came up slightly, eyes roaming. The two men on either side of the large double doors only stood out because they were standing in the only shadows present in spite of the brightly lit porch. Because of the hood, I couldn’t make out if they were armed, but I was sure they were.

  After all, what would be the damn point of hired thugs if they couldn’t kill the people bothering you?

  They greeted each other in Spanish. So when the small talk fell away and they switched to English, I was sure it was being done for my benefit and I tempered my emotions with that in mind. Bracing for whatever was coming. Sure enough, they proved me right.

  One of them let out a low, disbelieving chuckle. “I can't believe you really fucking did it, Carlito,” he said, moving closer. I couldn't see him looking me up and down like a piece of meat but I could sure as hell feel it. “Nice tits. You think boss man would mind if I took a turn before you hand her over?”

  Disgust made me shudder and I didn’t have to force it.

  Don't freak out.

  I wasn't sure if I was reminding myself or trying to will some calm in Carlos's direction. Smoke wasn’t coming from his ears, yet, but it was a close thing. My world curre
ntly consisted of shapeless blobs and I was still sure I had never seen him so close to murder. It took everything in me not to reach out for him but two things held me back. One, I wasn’t ready to throw the plan away this soon. Two, and most important, I had faith in him.

  Carlos popped his gum loudly but his response was cool, measured. I smirked beneath the hood. He never let me down. “Once I get what I want, Narciso can do as he pleases. Until then, you're out of luck.”

  The thug moved closer and my nose wrinkled. He smelled like he bathed in body spray instead of soap, strongly enough I felt my eyes water in response. What was it about assholes and having no sense of appropriate hygiene?

  A hand reached out towards me and my whole body went stiff as a board, tensing for action. Thoughts of sticking to the plan fled. They packed up and edged closer to the window, waiting for an excuse to jump.

  If one of them touched me, I was going to kill them. It was as simple as that.

  Except the aggravated rumble that sounded told me my earlier worry hadn’t been misplaced after all.

  CHAPTER 30 - Carlos

  I never should’ve agreed to this fucking plan.

  It was sound. There was no denying that. Sylvia was probably at the very top of the Cartel’s most wanted list. We needed a guaranteed way to be sure we made it past the gates and into the house, and this was it.

  The whole thing was also risky as hell and I hated it with every fiber of my being.

  Narciso was a petty, greedy, bastard of an old man with the moral fiber of a bottomless pit. His complete and total disregard to do more than line his own pockets over the years had been instrumental in my takeover of the city. But for all of his faults, he wasn't a complete fool.

  Sylvia had been on my arm throughout the city since he showed up at my office. Having her there felt right in every way imaginable, but it also opened us up to scrutiny from anyone who bothered to take a closer look. I was confident in my poker face, but I had doubts about the faith Narciso had in me.

  Whatever the reality might be, he saw me as a useful tool to keep the city in order and money flowing into his pockets. And tools only remained useful when you knew they were in proper working order. Which meant that when I called to set this whole thing up, he agreed knowing there was a chance I was no longer on his side.

  This entire night was a farce. Both of us had come to the table with a fake deck of cards and a pocket full of lies.

  Let me be clear.

  I hated it.

  Because even knowing it was a farce, seeing my woman restrained did something to me.

  From the moment the handcuffs had clicked shut and the hood went down over her face, I was on edge. There was a good chance my teeth were dust from grinding away at them, and the gum in my mouth had become closer to cardboard as a result. Seeing her obvious discomfort at being put into a situation which could only bring back the worst kind of memories made it worse. The only thing that was keeping me somewhat sane was the brave front she was putting up, acting out the hostage aspect perfectly.

  But this?

  This piece of human filth, cut from the same cloth as the men who had hurt her beyond measure, trying to reach out and paw her right in front of me?

  No. I wouldn't stand for it.

  My blood was red hot and a sound I didn't recognize sprang from my chest. I stepped into Dante’s space, catching his wrist in a crushing grip and twisting. His face pinched, anger sketching its way across his features as Marcel started to raise his rifle. I sensed movement on either side and knew without looking Isaac and Manuel were both returning the favor.

  “Watch yourself,” I told Dante, acting unconcerned as I released him.

  He jerked free of my grip, spitting at my feet, lips twisting into a sneer. “You and your fucking high horse. I'll never know what they see in you. She’s going to be fucking property anyway, what does it matter?”

  I raised a brow, forcing a calm I didn't feel. “You’re shortsighted. You always have been and you always will be. That's why I all but own this city while you're still nothing more than a glorified door man.” His lips curled back from his teeth but I wasn't done. “Now I suggest you take us to your master and keep your fucking hands to yourself unless you want to lose one.”

  His fingers twitched at his side and I knew nothing would make him happier than to put a bullet in me right at that very moment. But ultimately, he was a muscled up lackey. We both knew he didn't have the balls to make a move without Narciso’s permission, because he wasn't ready to face the consequences. So even as his eyes burned with contempt, I knew this round went to me.

  At least until a smirk pulled at his mouth.

  Cold worked its way up my spine and I clenched my fists behind my back, maintaining my glare. Dante and Marcel exchanged a look before the latter lowered his rifle. My brothers followed suit, but there was tension lingering around us that told me they had seen the same expression I had and didn't know what to make of it. We were missing something. Worse yet, I had no way of communicating the situation to Sylvia with so many eyes on us.

  She was going in blind in more ways than one and I had to hope I could mitigate a possible disaster.

  Without another word, Dante grabbed the handle of one of the double doors and swung it wide, light from inside spilling out into the darkness.

  I held my head high and regal as we strode inside, keeping Sylvia firmly in the middle of us. Soft jazz filtered in from hidden speakers, setting a strange mood to the entire affair. My eyes swept the surroundings, not liking what I was seeing.

  Not good. Not fucking good.

  Immediately to my right, a dozen men were gathered around a pool table inside a massive drawing room. I swiveled my head to the left, counting at least half that many in the opposite room while different basketball games played on multiple televisions.

  Dante led us towards the bottom of a winding staircase that continued up to an open landing and too many sets of eyes stopped what they were doing to follow our advance. There were many faces within the crowd I was familiar with. Some I had disciplined. Some I had rewarded. How those elements might come into play was a wobbly brick on top of a wall already leaning. They represented variables completely unaccounted for.

  When it came down to choosing sides, where would they fall? Being outnumbered was already an uphill battle, but I had allowed myself to get comfortable in the knowledge that it would be open season on anyone outside the four of us.

  This changed things. When the inevitable starting bell rang, I wouldn’t be able to freely pick and choose my targets the way I wanted to. I risked throwing a quick glance over my shoulder at my brothers. From the outside looking in, they wore matching looks of boredom and annoyance.

  But when their eyes met mine, I knew we were on the same page.

  We were in trouble.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” said a high pitched voice, pulling my attention towards the top of the stairs. The obscene chandelier hanging above our heads shattered off enough prisms of light I could barely look up, but I did anyway, eyes narrowing. Narciso was in one of his usual ill-fitting suits, leaning over the banister of the landing, bringing his pudgy hands together in a slow clap. “Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? You finally remembered your roots and stopped playing house with cattle.”

  “I told you you'd be surprised by what I had in store,” I said, doing what I could to keep the anger out of my voice. “It took a bit longer than I would've liked, but I accomplished my task all the same.”

  His head tilted and he drummed his fingers across the wooden railing. “And what task would that be, hmm?” The idle chatter in the room stopped, along with any other noise but the erratic heartbeat taking up residence in my chest. “I understand you've been incredibly busy, so I'll remind you in case you've forgotten. But if she loses a nail, we'll be knee deep in leather wearing savages before the week is out.”

  “Not if we play our cards right.”

  His eyes gleamed with sick s
atisfaction and a long line of obscenities formed in my head one after another. I hadn't wanted to take it this far. I definitely hadn't wanted to put this show on in front of an audience, but I was running low on options and time.

  He was going to find out what was happening across the state. And when he did, the trail towards the culprit was going to light up like a neon fucking sign in my direction.

  This needed to be over before then.

  I already hated what I was about to say before the first words left my mouth. “Step forward.” After a moment’s hesitation, Sylvia shuffled to my side.

  Snickers and jeers rang out around us. When she stopped close to me, I swear I could feel the killing intent coming off her in waves. It was a wonder our little performance had gotten us this far. Could no one else tell who was standing among them?

  Handcuffs. Bare feet. Hood over her head.

  Those things were irrelevant.

  Beneath her affected posture, she was biding her time. Waiting for an opening, an opportunity. When she got it, my goddess was going to harvest their lives like wheat in the fields and lose no sleep over it whatsoever.

  I reached for her secured hands and pulled her closer to me, letting my grip linger. Sylvia jerked repeatedly against my hold, just like she was supposed to, while careful fingers worked at the key Isaac had quickly sewn in place of a cufflink. The sound of fabric ripping was painfully loud, echoing across the space while she stumbled forward. My jacket sleeve flapped awkwardly as I caught her and hauled her back towards me, her back to my front, hoping no one else noticed her clenched fists.

  My hand went to her shoulder and I raised my voice. “Kneel.” The single word tasted worse than bile. The sight of her jean-clad knees hitting the pristine floor was a shockwave leaving me reeling for balance, but I wouldn’t allow myself to falter.

  I kept my hand where it was as danger quickly flooded the entryway for a closer look. Manny and Isaac closed ranks, forming up around me. It didn’t alleviate the itch between my shoulder blades. The one telling me I was on the wrong end of a scope. But the gesture was appreciated nonetheless.