With a mop in one hand and a towel in the other, I managed to stop the bleeding and prevent this from turning into a major worker’s comp catastrophe. As I put pressure on her wounds, bar bitch looked up at me with hearts in her eyes, and it was all I could do not to fire her on the spot.
By the time I returned to my seat at the bar, Adriana was gone.
Lifting my abandoned glass, I raised it in the air and toasted to small victories. “Better luck next time, princesa.” I drank slowly, savoring my victory. This wasn’t the last I’d seen of Adriana Carrera. She’d be back.
Just as the glass hit my lips, I saw it. A cocktail napkin covered in blood. Slamming the glass back onto the bar, I slid off the seat and snatched it from the puddle of water soaking the edge.
Only, it wasn’t blood. It was red lipstick.
Your thing isn’t that impressive.
And your man is for sale.
Never dip your dick in the same pool twice.
Regency Court – Room 233
“Fuck!” I balled it up and threw it across the bar.
She knew about Leo Pinellas.
Worse than that, now I had no choice.
Her trump card ended up being my Achilles heel.
Chapter Seven
Adriana
The scotch smelled like Band-Aids soaked in disinfectant. I had no idea how he drank this shit.
Picking up the clear plastic cup, I popped the pills in my hand into my mouth and tossed back what was left, shuddering at the vile taste.
It tasted just as bad.
Crushing the flimsy cup in my hand, I crossed the tiny motel room and dropped it in the trash can. Then again, I was drinking cheap booze out of a plastic cup I found on the bathroom counter. I wasn’t exactly the epitome of class. I might as well have sipped Cristal from a salad bowl.
My father would roll over in his grave if he saw how low I’d sunk.
My father.
The words hit my chest, knocking the breath out of me. My lungs seized as if I’d run full speed into a brick wall. I groped the scalloped neckline of my dress, desperate for something to ground me to this room. Far away from the lies whispered to a little girl or the truth beaten into a defiant woman.
But this was reality, and the truth was, my father wouldn’t care what I’d become. He wouldn’t care because he wasn’t my father. He never had been.
The same numbness started to surface, and I closed my eyes and squeezed my fists by my hips, fighting it with every fiber of my being. I refused to drift in between worlds, hovering in that fragment of space where no light could penetrate.
A void. An abyss.
I squeezed my fists tighter, my nails digging hard into my palms. “No,” I whispered. “I won’t give you power. Not here. Not now.” Opening my eyes, I blinked a few times as the room came back into focus.
I was still here in this crap-ass motel room.
Slowly, I unclenched my fists and glanced down at my phone.
And he was late.
Running a hand down the front of my dress, I straightened the tight lacy material, and a small smile tugged at one corner of my mouth. The royal blue lace overlay hardly masked the body-hugging nude lining. It had better do the trick because I was running out of options.
Grabbing my phone off the stained red and lime green bedspread, I tossed it between my hands a few times and then checked the time.
9:36 p.m.
I had to give Brody points for self-control. After leaving Caliente a little after two o’clock, I would’ve bet money he’d have beaten my door down by at least four. Although, to be fair, the note I left wasn’t exactly inviting. I’d wanted to antagonize him. Maybe push his buttons a little.
I eyed the offensive scotch bottle sitting on the small table as the clock on my phone changed to 9:41 p.m. If he dragged out this pissing contest much longer, I might be tempted to drink more than a sip just to block out the image of the dark ring around the bathtub and the stains on the bed.
God, I missed having money.
I had just grabbed the last plastic cup from the bathroom and filled it with the vile liquid when the sound of repeated fists pounding on my door diverted my attention.
“Adriana! Adriana open this damn door right now, or I swear to God, I’ll break it down.”
For reasons I couldn’t explain, I smiled and swayed my hips, sashaying across the room until I was pressed against the cheap metal. Holding the bandage flavored disinfectant in one hand, I pressed the other against the door. “Who is it?”
“You know damn well who it is. Now open the door.”
I trailed a nail across the metal, and it scratched like nails on a chalkboard. “I’m sorry, I don’t answer the door for strangers. A lady can never be too careful, you know.”
“Adriana,” he warned, the low growl in his voice drawing me closer to the door until I pressed flush against it. “You’re staying in a motel that’s in the heart of a Carrera-run neighborhood. If you don’t open this fucking door by the count of three, I’m going to open fire on this lock and no one will give a shit. Do you understand me?”
My smile faded.
I did understand him, and I wanted to slam my head against the door for being so stupid. Yeah, I didn’t have the extra cash to go to a fancy hotel, but I should’ve remembered the Carreras had a lockdown on this part of town.
He was right. He could empty the gun in the door and me, and no one would bat an eye.
Moving quickly, I opened the door with a scowl. “You’re a real aguafiestas, you know that?”
Brody stood at the threshold with his palms braced against the molding. “Thanks. And you’re one hell of a perra tramposa.”
“I call you a buzzkill, and you have to take it over the line with sneaky bitch?”
“Be grateful,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “That was me censoring myself.”
My scowl deepened, but it didn’t stop me from taking him in. He was still dressed in the same half-destroyed button-up shirt and slacks as earlier but whereas before they just looked disheveled, now they appeared to have survived a three-day bender. One wrinkled sleeve was rolled up past his elbow while the other flapped loosely around his wrist. Only four, maybe five, buttons held the whole damn thing together, the others scattered on a breadcrumb trail from here to Caliente. But his clothes weren’t what tightened my chest and sent my pulse skyrocketing.
It was his face.
Brody clenched his jaw so hard, the muscles in his neck twitched, and a vein running down the center of his forehead throbbed with barely-restrained rage. He was more than pissed off. He was a man whose hands itched to feel the life drain from my body. Chills scattered over my skin, and for a moment, I considered backing off.
Then he opened his mouth.
“Drinking alone?” His lips curled in a smirk, and he nodded his head at the forgotten cup in my hand.
“Well, when in Rome…” I motioned to where he still stood in the doorway.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I assumed all the women who spend time in your company erase the memory with booze.” His face flushed a heated shade of crimson as I swung my hips back toward the table. Lifting the bottle of scotch in the air, I licked my lips and winked. “It’s your favorite, rock bottom scotch. I’m out of cups, but feel free to wrap your lips around the tip and suck.”
Okay, admittedly, maybe I took it too far. Way too far, because Brody stormed through the motel room like a charging bull and caged me against the table. His palms slammed against the wood on either side of my ass, and I fought hard not to breathe in the intoxicating scent of scotch and sage. But not the kind in my hand. I recognized indulgence when I smelled it. Single malt scotch, expensive as hell, and hard to come by. Paired with the rugged earthy sage scent of his cologne, the combined effect knocked me off track for a moment.
“Did you hear me?”
I blinked him back into focus. “Huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “I
said, what the fuck did you do with Leo Pinellas?”
“Who?”
Brody shifted forward, the hard planes of his chest crushing my lace bodice. “Don’t play innocent, Adriana. It doesn’t suit you. After I read your little love note, I had one of my men go to the Mexican Embassy to check on him. He never returned from his lunch break, so I told them to check his apartment. I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you he wasn’t there either.”
I set my drink down with a shrug. “Why are you asking me? Isn’t he your stool pigeon?”
Brody’s eyes turned black, and an inhuman sound rumbled in his throat. Before I could process what was happening, one hand from the table buried in my hair. Tightening his grip, he jerked my head back and forced me to look up at him.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake here.” His fingers twisted tighter around the strands. “I need him. Tell me where he is!”
Dios mío. Why the hell was I turned on? In one show of dominance, my heart raced, and an unbearable ache hit hard between my legs. What was wrong with me? The man was seconds away from putting a bullet in my head, not his dick in my vagina.
I had to get it together.
Curling my fingers around the edge of the table, I gripped the wood tightly. “Oh, I understand a lot more than you think I do, counselor.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Instead of swinging your dick around, you should be thanking me.”
He let out a dry laugh. “For killing my informant?”
“For saving your ass!” I yelled, the truth barreling into me like a hurricane. Me. Adriana Carrera did something unselfish. Something that didn’t directly benefit me. Maybe I did take too many punches to the head in that warehouse. “Leo Pinellas was playing both sides—a game I believe you know quite well, if I remember.” I smiled as he shot me a look that said he wanted to tie me to a concrete block and toss me into a river. “It blows my mind you couldn’t see what was right in front of your face.”
A rogue piece of blond hair fell across his eyebrow as he leaned over me. “Bullshit.”
“Pinellas was reporting to the men trying to frame me, you idiot! How you ended up in charge of US operations, I will never know. Dios mío, you’re gullible. Do you still believe in Santa Claus too?”
“How do I know you’re not lying? You were once leader of the Muñoz Cartel yourself. Why would you suddenly turn against them?”
That was just it. He didn’t know I wasn’t lying, and it was the reason he was wound tighter than a nun’s asshole. The biggest sacrifice anyone could make in life was trusting a proven enemy. It was the ultimate gamble. You either walked away with everything, or you didn’t walk away at all.
Checkmate.
“Shipment for seventeen million, right? Disappeared near the Chicago port?” He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. “Brody, open your eyes. Every contact you have is being turned. You can’t trust anyone. Not your friends, not your contacts, and certainly not your informants.”
That damn condescending smirk returned. “Not even you?”
“Especially not me,” I shot back, letting go of the table and shoving my hands hard against his chest. The sudden move knocked him off balance enough that he released my hair, and I slipped around him. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
I spun around and faced him, ready to do battle. Instead, I met with sculptured lips that twitched with obvious unwelcome amusement.
Or it could’ve been anger.
Or lust.
Or hate.
The gamut of emotions we ran through in the span of ten minutes exhausted me. Or maybe it was the scotch. Both were extremely bad for me.
“So, why bother? I exposed your real identity, Adriana. I turned your life into a nightmare. Your words, remember?” he accused, pointing a finger at me. “I should be the last person you’d want to help. You should want to strike a match, watch me burn, then dance in the ashes. So, again, why? There has to be something in it for you, other than clearing your name and taking down the Muñozes, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“There is,” I admitted, hating the slight wobble in my voice. “I want you to convince Val to accept me into the Carrera family.”
“And I’d like to have my dick sucked by a Victoria’s Secret model every day of the week. We don’t always get what we want, princesa.”
Of course. I let down my guard for one minute and got slapped in the face.
I sighed. “Can you take something seriously for five minutes, please?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the table. “Yes, if I really thought you wanted to be his sister, but I’m not a moron. I see what you’re doing.”
“And what am I doing, exactly?”
“You lost control of the Muñoz Cartel, and now they’re restructuring. You don’t give a shit about Val. You want what comes with the Carrera name, and you’re using this situation to get it. I took your crown, so you want to take his.”
“Are you done?”
“For now.”
The rational side of my brain pleaded with me to not even dignify that with an answer while the batshit crazy side screamed at me to shove his words down his throat and make him choke on them.
Guess who won?
“Let’s get something straight, counselor,” I hissed, my hands fisted by my side. “I don’t give a shit about wearing a crown or sitting on some goddamn blood throne. I was tortured by the same men who used to bow at my feet. If you don’t think I know how easily loyalty can fade, then you can go to hell. You have no idea what I’ve been through. Loyalty is only a word, Brody. Anyone can say it, but only actions prove its worth.”
Were those fucking tears in my eyes?
Adriana Carrera did not cry. I didn’t cry when my own men sank a blade into my flesh, and I wouldn’t cry over a few stupid words. Especially in front of him.
“I didn’t know,” he said softly.
I blinked until my eyes cleared. “Well, now you do. Things at first glance are rarely what they seem. Dig deeper, and you’ll find the truth lies more in what you don’t see than what you do. Arrogance is the eye’s worst enemy, Brody. Men always make the mistake of looking at what’s in front of them instead of watching out for what’s behind them.”
Thankfully, Brody let the subject die, redirecting his focus back to the subject at hand. “Still, even if I thought about humoring you, which I’m not, approaching Val is something that has to be eased into. Just flying to Mexico City and playing house like you didn’t try to kill him a year ago isn’t going to happen.”
Ouch.
“I don’t want to play house, and I’m not looking for instant absolution. I’m looking for a chance to prove myself by warning him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. About this infamous man of mystery.”
Here it was. Time to show my hand.
“When I was being held captive, there was a man who seemed to be in charge. I barely saw him for the first day or so, but then he came to taunt me. He never told me his name, but he knew things about me. Things no one should know. He offered me a place in the new Muñoz Cartel if I’d turn Val over to him.”
“Wait, this is your argument for me to take you to Val?” I glared at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine, continue. Let me guess, you told him no.”
“What? Hell, no. I couldn’t agree fast enough.” Brody’s lips thinned, and his eyebrows drew together. “Oh, don’t look so constipated. It was my only way out of there. Do you think if I had refused they would’ve said, ‘Oh, bummer, well, look us up sometime, we’ll do lunch.’ They would’ve slit my throat right then and there. I did what I had to do to secure my freedom.”
“Then you came here to…do what?” He asked, throwing his arms out wide. “Warn Val about the impending threat?”
“Exactly.”
He dropped his arms by his side with a slap. “Well, mission accomplished, sweetheart. You’ve told me, and I can relay the message. N
o need for you to go anywhere.”
“There is if you want to know his name.”
Like I said, checkmate.
“Sweetheart, you don’t know his name.” His burst of arrogance caught me off guard, but before I could come back at him, he reached forward and pinched my lips shut. “That’s what the hell I mean. Like most women, you don’t know when to stop talking.”
With his fingers holding my face in a vice grip, I channeled the words trapped in my mouth into a glare that could plow through plaster. In response, a slow, purposeful smile crept across his lips as he brushed them against the shell of my ear.
“You just said yourself he never told you his name.”
It took everything I had in me not to knee his nuts halfway up his throat.
Jerking away from him, I forced this deplorable union of hate and desire into a mask of control. “I said he wouldn’t tell me his name. I never said I didn’t overhear it from another sicario.”
He stepped forward, his eyes blazing. Something primal lurked in them. An innate need to dominate and control. “Tell me.”
“No,” I repeated, standing my ground. “I tell Val, or I tell no one.”
“I don’t take well to threats, princesa.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you start considering I know all about your dirty little Chicago deal.”
There was nothing but silence. Brody’s body went completely still. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. I almost wondered if he was even breathing. But unlike before, this time, his silence didn’t mean acquiescence.
It was just the calm before the storm.
“Son of a bitch!” Coming out of his catatonic state, Brody whirled around and grabbed the scotch bottle from the table by the neck. Hitching his arm back, he pitched it across the room, his chest heaving as he watched it slam against the wall and shatter into pieces.
“Well, that was a little—”
He cut me off with another low growl, his disheveled hair brushing over his face, hiding all but one wild eye. “Fuck your ultimatums. I’m not going to be blackmailed into doing shit. I’ll tell Val about the impending threat, and he can handle it on his own. If there’s someone to be found, he’ll find him—without your help.” He stalked forward, his hands opening and closing by his side as if seeking more destruction. His moves were quick and efficient, and my heart slammed against my ribcage as he brushed past me in search of the doorknob.
Drawn Blue Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel Page 6