Never one to be intimidated, he met the man’s unrelenting, cold, harsh stare. “I wouldn’t suspect they would.” Jacob sat his elbows on the arms of the chair and rubbed his eyes with his palms before grabbing another smoke.
“How am I going to know who this Deacon Cruz is?”
Thin lines of burning tobacco wafted between the men. “That is the easy part,” Cesario assured with barely a whisper. “He looks just like you.”
“It’s not my legal name, and you can’t prove shit, old man.”
“I don’t have to prove it,” he contended, opening his phone and presenting a picture. “It’s easy to see.”
With shaking hands, Jacob picked up the phone and studied the picture of the three—two men and a woman. They were smiling, happy, and free. “… Who is the girl?”
“Her name is Iris Nakamura.”
“And the other guy?”
“My son, Salvatore,” Cesario informed. “He is heavily involved with Iris. And Deacon is his…sidekick.”
He set the phone down and propped his hands behind his head. Suddenly, rape didn’t seem like such a horrific crime with her beauty in mind.
“Can I have at her?”
“I suppose that depends, can you rid the world of Deacon Cruz?”
Running his fingers over his stubbled hair, he questioned, “You want me to be my twin brother?”
“I want you to be who you were born to be.”
“… The devil?”
Cesario smirked with an evil glare. “I want you to kill Deacon to eliminate the impenetrable bond between the three, so my son will return to his rightful place by my side. Make Deacon disappear. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do with or to the girl. I just need their unholy trinity broken irreversibly.”
“And paying an exorbitant amount to grease the warden’s palm is a cheap fix.”
“It’s so worth it,” Cesario hissed with excitement.
“You’re insane. I may as well sign my death certificate. I do not have his scars, ink, or knowledge of their…whatever it is. You’re asking me to make a fucking hurricane with no water.”
“Make a tornado.”
With a brisk shake of his head, Jacob stood to leave, took a few steps, and turned back. “How did you find me?”
“An angry father has his ways.”
“And a pissed off son has ways of becoming invisible, including yours.” Jacob swaggered closer and knocked on the table twice. “Why don’t you start by telling me the truth, motherfucker.”
“Salvatore recently came into some knowledge which will perhaps leave him unhinged.”
Jacob’s jaw set in a hard line. “What knowledge?” Cesario glanced up, refusing to answer. “Fine. I’m gone. Don’t ever come back.”
He spun away fast and headed for the door as Cesario teetered up and announced, “I’m not his biological father.”
“You want me to frame Salvatore, just like I was?” Jacob asked in disbelief. “You want me to get him back to you at all costs? By killing my twin brother?” He hadn’t been this furious in ages. His fists locked tightly as he seethed, “I ought to issue a hit on your ass!”
Straightening his jacket, Cesario flung his card on the table and belligerently baited, “Good luck with that, Diablo.”
Immediately, Jacob rushed to the phones and dialed the emergency number he’d kept memorized for four years. The woman had told him to call if anything unusual ever happened.
This certainly qualified.
He peered around, making sure no one was any the wiser as to what was going on. He was making a play and praying for the best, but there were no guarantees. He hadn’t ever talked to the woman. The letter came a week after his incarceration without a return address and specifically instructed him on what to do.
The phone rang as he shifted his weight between his feet. “Scarlet House, Lula speaking.”
“I need to speak to Anna,” he hurriedly barked.
“May I tell her who is calling?”
Nice try, sweetheart.
Jacob snickered, “Mississippi.”
The phone dropped with a thud as a flurry activity erupted in the background. “This is Serene Stanton.”
“Anna asked me to call.”
“… Jacob?” she predicted, keeping her voice low. “What happened?”
He didn’t know the woman named Serene, but he wasn’t going to sit passively by while some big wig motherfucker offered to trade his release for a hit on his twin. If he proposed the idea once, he’d do it again.
Deacon Cruz.
His blood.
It wasn’t that he opposed offing any guy, but he damn sure didn’t act on command. He was better than that. He was kinder than that even if his growl declared otherwise.
“Cesario Raniero visited me,” he confided. “He wants me to kill Cruz.”
“Did you accept?”
“Fuck, no…”
“Call him back,” she sighed. “And get the hell out.”
Jacob shook his head. “I’m not some puppet on a string.”
“If you want out of Pennerock, take the goddamned deal and let me deal with Raniero.”
“Give me one reason I should trust you.”
With a cold, calculating tone, Serene said, “Because I sent the woman who found you before trouble caught you.”
Jacob considered what he knew. “You mean that little hot piece named Mae East?”
2
The Fallen Angel
Sonoran Desert
Mexico
Carrion flew low overhead breaking the eerie silence of the Sonoran Desert. The wind blew sand and tumbleweeds amidst the majestic Saguaro cactus and pinyon pine as the woman stepped out of the car and lifted her sunglasses onto her long auburn curls.
The willow and salt cedar fluttered with the grace of a prima ballerina as tall Fremont cottonwoods stayed in a composed stance with a mere rattle of leaves.
She wanted to meet in Chihuahua, but her contact wouldn’t hear of going anywhere near Juárez. Pulling her phone from the black leather jacket, she punched in the numbers of her Master.
He didn’t answer, and she wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t been able to reach him since taking the assignment months ago. She scanned over the area as she listened to the ring.
Old tin on the dilapidated gas station rattled as vultures landed on the shredded roof, little remained but a few support beams, resting loose and threatening to fall like the others already had.
There was no use in risking a voice mail. They had come too far, working too long, to blow it now. The substantial losses scarred, infected by a grotesque pestilence in the match of wills.
In her hand, the phone vibrated, and she stared at the screen. “Shit.” She licked her lips and whispered, “Hello, you.”
“I can’t talk long.”
She closed her eyes, feeling his familiar dialect. It sounded like home.
“Where are you?”
“The chapel at the hospital,” he replied with a low, distinct growl. “We’re moving Archer to the rehab facility in Colorado for security purposes.”
Understanding the severity of the situation, she sighed, “And your sister?”
“They’re both in critical condition.”
She rubbed her lips together as pangs of guilt riddled with anxiety brought tears to her eyes. “How are you?”
“I expect you know the answer to that question,” he replied. His words offered transparency to his emotions, which was why he had avoided speaking to her until now. He was hurt. Angry. “The funeral is on the first. Do us all a favor and don’t show up.”
Her nose twitched as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. Thank God for waterproof mascara. “I am so sorry.”
“Save it,” he quickly scolded as the tensions escalated between them. “We understand the risks of the game when we enter the playing field, and yet it doesn’t hinder any one of us. We are all guilty by association. Has she contacted you again?”
; “No, but I wouldn’t have expected her to,” she countered, acknowledging their vastly different roles in his life. “Her lover’s fiancée was shot dead.”
“… Are there no limits anymore? Have we thrown out the rulebook?”
“I wasn’t going to stand by and watch you kill Cesario, not like that. This doesn’t get to be easy. There are circumstances well beyond our control, and those influences have the coin to alter not only the course but your entire trajectory. Eliminating Cesario at this point would have rained blood on your head, and it is my job, as it has always been, to protect your assets.” She paused, turning to the desolate road and wondering when her contact would arrive. “And your ass...”
“By dropping the bomb of my real parents?” He chastised like a thousand diamond-cut razor blades slicing into her skin. “Nice timing!”
“I had no clue!”
“Bullshit, Amber,” Sal spat, cracking his knuckles. “You knew, just like Iris.”
She shook her head. “If that’s the company I’m keeping, I’ll fucking take it because she makes you happy.”
Sal didn’t bother to justify her need for praise. “Just so you are aware, your hired gun has terrible aim.”
“Or perfect…”
He snickered. “Only if Petra Soryn wanted a war.”
She hastily excused, “The Priest was an innocent bystander.”
“I’m not worried about leprechauns,” he replied with a knowing chuckle. “I’m more concerned about keeping my circus in the big tent and trapped in the wild animal cage.”
“Nicky’s behind the fucking bars with a lioness,” she humored. “And Serene has a lethal bite.”
“I am aware,” he noted, lighting a smoke. “And where do you stand?”
“In the same place, I’ve always stood. My loyalty doesn’t waver.”
He gave a hearty, singular laugh. “Clearly, it wavers for one.”
“I’ll protect you, even from yourself, as well as those you care about, but keep Cruz at bay.”
“Don’t even mention his name in my company,” he angrily grumbled. “He’s off-limits, Stardust.”
Dropping her shades over her eyes, she replied, “And you need to be watching your submissives closer.”
“Because you’re the shining example?” He rhetorically snapped, showing his bite. “You’re not the one anyone should be using as a role model.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed the toe of her boot in the sandy earth. “You don’t need to be mean.”
“You fucked up,” he retaliated. “You shot my fiancée.”
“You didn’t love her,” she casually assumed.
“That’s quite an assumption for her murderer to be making.”
She breathed a lung full of clean air. “Accomplice.”
“You know I’m coming after you.”
She giggled. “I’m more than aware, and I look forward to our tango in the night.”
“Why would you warn me about my submissives?”
“Because if you think they aren’t strategizing their moves outside of Salvatore Raniero, then you are a fool. The world doesn’t revolve around you. Iris breathes Lotus, and Deacon wants his Reckless Rebellion making waves in the bayou. If you don’t see how those two things revolve around one another, then you are blind by your own flames.”
“Iris doesn’t breathe swamp water…”
“Yes, filthy, stagnant, mosquito-infested, alligator populated waters aiming to extinguish your fire.”
“Fuck you, Amber.”
“We can get dirty before we dance,” she suggested as he snorted. “I’m going to challenge the Master, but I won’t eliminate you.”
He mumbled, “Sadist.”
“What can I say?” She smiled. “I like fucking with the best.”
A minute passed in silence before he reminded, “Watch yourself, Amber.”
“Oh, I know damn Vega wants up my ass. Probably in more ways than one,” she replied, hearing the engine of the motorcycle roaring in the distance. “My ride is almost here.”
“I know.”
“Thank you,” she sincerely said, grabbing her backpack and purse. “And Sal, Soryn isn’t going to stop until she hurts you. Watch your damn submissives.”
“Why do you think I’m getting you the fuck gone?”
“I’m going to climb Machu Picchu and take a voracious, young lover that doesn’t speak my native tongue with a big dick and an even bigger gun.”
He chuckled. “You do that. At least until things calm.”
“The war is coming, Nero.”
“I know,” he seethed, popping his jaw. “Because I’m starting it.”
“Navarro is here,” she mentioned, walking away from the car. “I got to go. I love you.”
He clicked the end button, and she pretended it didn’t hurt like hell.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Mae East,” Emiliano Navarro said, tugging off his helmet. “One-way ticket to Peru?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m taking you to Chavez in Hermosillo. You’ll board a private plane to Columbia and be transported from there. No weapons?”
She smirked. “My mouth.”
“Maybe the most dangerous one of all.” He nodded, scanning over her shapely silhouette. “You’re under the protective custody of Raniero until you arrive in Peru, and then you’re on your own. I suggest not making enemies.”
“I have no plans of doing anything besides laying low.”
“Do you need anything before we go?”
“No,” she replied, wanting to get on the road and handing her bags to him. “I need as far away from the States as possible.”
He stashed them in the saddlebags. “You have any issues riding bitch?”
“Nope.”
He tossed her the helmet. “Put that on your head. You have any issues staying the night in my safe house?”
“Not a problem.”
“We’ll be leaving at four in the morning for the flight,” he informed as she straddled onto the sweet ride.
She cattily remarked, “You got any problems entertaining me?”
He stopped, concerned. “Chavez will be there.”
“But I want to thank you properly.”
“Then you best prepare to swallow.”
“Easy,” she declared as he took his spot. “Pull to the road and stop, please.”
He did exactly as she asked.
Looking at the precious piece of machinery, holding so many memories, she understood the emotional obstacles. Leaving the car left a trail of slime like a slug. And there could be no clues.
A lot of planning went into this.
She’d been lucky to have made it as far as she did without help. Realizing her limitations, she called for assistance, and the car was brought by a hauler from Texas and deposited just on the other side of Nogales.
“Do it, Chica,” he encouraged, but she didn’t deter her stare. “We gotta go.”
“You like the car?” Sal said, holding her hand. “I picked it out for my Mistress. She will have only the best things in the world.”
Sal and Amber parted ways years ago, but kept the same circles and appreciated the resilience of one another’s sport. Almost all her jewelry, clothes, and furs from their tryst had been given away or stashed. The last remaining piece of their affair awaited its final resting place.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
Navarro tipped his Aviators down. “You don’t have a choice, Mama. You gotta do it. And if you don’t, I will.”
“Sal gave me the car.”
“And he gave you heartbreak.”
With a torn expression, Amber blinked up at the man. He wasn’t remarkably handsome for a hitman, but his quiet compassion warmed her frigid soul. She licked her lips and said, “Can you take me to Peru?”
He lifted a brow. Her amendment wasn’t in the contract, but that didn’t mean much to Emiliano Navarro. Neither did putting a bullet in anyone for the ri
ght price. He slept just fine at night, especially knowing how much blood money he’d amassed over the years.
It paid well to be a contract killer for the underworld.
Too well.
But he wasn’t telling anyone that.
“What are you paying?”
“A million in cash.”
“To Peru?”
“All the way,” Amber rallied, unwavering. “And I want sex.”
He laughed. “You want to pay me for a trip to Peru and a dicking.”
“Yes,” she seriously replied. “A million in cash.”
“That’s a small-time hit,” he pointed out, considering her offer. “I made five times that for my last God.”
“And who was that?”
“Estrel.”
“Estrella.” She repeated the woman’s full name, “Estrella Esparza Herrera, the queen of Immortal. You don’t discriminate.”
“She was old,” he said with a shrug. “Her son wanted her gone and buried before the disease destroyed his inheritance.”
“It’s a rough world,” she muttered. “Were you gentle?”
“Silent in the night.” He chuckled. “Left one dead red rose on her chest.”
“One million. Cash. Peru. Sex.”
He shifted on the bike, noting two black SUVs approaching slow. “We got company. We make it out of here alive, and I’ll take you to Peru. I’ll even help you get set up somewhere safe.”
“Will you hike Machu Picchu with me?”
“You’re pushing your luck, lady. In many ways.” His eyes stayed focused on the SUVs gaining distance on them. “Blow it.”
“Wait,” she said. “Trust me.”
“If we’re talking trust,” he replied, rolling back down the hill behind a cluster of trees. “Trust me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Hiding.” He gave a grin over his shoulder. “If I kill you, there is no money, so it behooves me to get your ass out of this.”
“Who is it?”
“Fuck,” he mumbled, noting the cuts as the men stepped out to ransack the car.
Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4) Page 2