I did everything I could to avoid this.
Despite what people thought of me, I wasn’t completely heartless. I’d attempted to exhaust every path before leading my enemy to slaughter. Damn it, I’d even cracked a little for him. But Brody Harcourt was so damn stubborn, he wouldn’t recognize an olive branch if it was shoved up his ass.
I had to get to the Carrera Compound, and unfortunately for Brody, I still had an ace up my sleeve.
“Brody,” I called out, biting my tongue so hard I tasted blood.
Spinning halfway around, he glared over his shoulder, rage etched all over his face. “What?”
“You need to call Val tonight. We’ll want to fly out first thing tomorrow.”
His mouth dropped open. “Did you not just hear a damn word I—”
Before he could finish his rant, I moved toward him until we stood chest to chest. “Oh, I heard you, but none of it matters. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but you’ve certainly become a pompous blowhard since we last did business. The thing is, you don’t have a choice.” Lifting onto the toes of my high heels, I placed a hand on his shoulder, and mimicking his arrogant power play, I brushed my lips against the shell of his ear and whispered, “Because if I don’t get what I want, I’ll make sure Val knows the real reason you ruined my life.”
Chapter Eight
Brody
I felt all the blood drain from my face. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.” Her dark, sensual voice sounded like a hushed prayer, whispered against my ear in a promise of desecration.
I closed my eyes, forcing the sound out of my head. “Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but—”
She shifted, her breathy chuckle skating across my neck. “Oh, qué chingados. You’re such a bad liar, Harcourt. Did you ever win a case when you worked for the DA’s office?”
I should’ve been insulted. Hell, I should’ve been on my sharpest game. She just threw down the gauntlet—the woman who eighteen months ago used my sister to blackmail me into betraying Val Carrera—the man who was already blackmailing me. If that wasn’t some fucked-up shit, I didn’t know what was. Back then, she had an army behind her, but now, she was alone.
Knowledge might be power, but both ended up being worthless without the credibility to sustain them. One of us was bluffing their influence, and it sure as hell wasn’t me.
I jerked the door open. “I’m leaving.”
Her toned arm snaked around my left side, and her palm connected with the door, slamming it closed. “Are you sure you want to do that? The way I see it, you’re out of options, counselor.”
I dropped my chin and let out a low laugh. Not because I was entertained by the situation. Far from it. I laughed because if I didn’t, the rage boiling inside me would take over, and I’d turn around and swing. I’d never hit a woman in my life, and I didn’t plan on starting just because I let Adriana Carrera get under my skin.
“I’m sorry, did I say something to amuse you?”
Instead of punching her, I punched the door and plastered on a fake smile before facing her. “There’s always an option, princesa. I haven’t survived this long without having a backup plan. So, you go right ahead and think you have me cornered with your Hail Mary bullshit.”
Adriana’s dark eyes searched mine in the dimly lit room, and her full lips twisted into a cocky smirk. “Lie to yourself all you want, Brody. Pretend your heart isn’t riddled with sin. Ignore the voices you hear with your own ears. Slam the door on what you know is the truth. Tell yourself whatever makes you sleep better at night, but know, when you wake up, nothing will have changed. I know what you’ve done, and I’d bet my life on the fact that Val doesn’t.”
Pretend my heart isn’t riddled with sin?
What the hell was that supposed to mean, and why did it sound so familiar?
As her accusing glare entwined with mine, time tumbled backward. To a surprise meeting. To a heated exchange. To haunting words that came barreling back in a rush of unfortunate foreshadowing and impending ruin.
“Yes, well, the eyes may be the window to the soul, but the heart is the doorway to sin.”
The meaning of her words finally sank in, and I realized how screwed I was.
Ignore the voices you hear with your own ears.
“Is someone there?”
Slam the door on what you know to be the truth.
“Just my puta secretary who doesn’t know how to fucking knock.”
My pulse pounded in my ears, and all the air rushed out of my chest in one breath. The minute I picked up that phone, Leo Pinellas was a man living on borrowed time, and when Adriana walked into my cantina yesterday, it was as judge, jury, and executioner.
Since becoming entangled in cartel life, I’d memorized Marisol Muñoz’s playbook. Although merciless and at times, brutal, her methods were formulaic. Once she needled through her enemy’s defenses, she openly exploited their weaknesses until they caved to her demands. But Adriana Carrera’s innate Machiavellian nature rewrote the rules of the game.
Not only had I met my match, but I might also have met my undoing.
“That was your voice I heard in Leo’s office. The door slamming…he let you in. That’s how you knew.”
I didn’t have to elaborate. The truth stared me in the face and shrugged.
“As I’ve already told you, the man has been on the take for a while now. He’d sell out his own mother if the price was right.”
“Where is he?”
“If the whereabouts of a traitor is your main concern, we have bigger problems, counselor.”
She was right. I shouldn’t give a fuck about Leo. He sold me out, and now she had me backed against the wall.
But if I was going down, I was going down swinging.
“You wouldn’t risk the fallout.”
Of course, she would.
“Admittedly, I’d prefer to avoid a scene.” She shrugged, and for the first time, I saw indecision on her face as worried lines darted across her forehead. “Ratting out his trusted lieutenant isn’t exactly the way to endear myself to my brother.” As soon as the brief moment of weakness broke through her shell, it disappeared. “But if you force my hand, Brody, I won’t hesitate to go to Mexico City myself and serve your head on a platter. Don’t think I forgot you were about to serve mine up for your Chicago bullshit.”
“Then why come for me in the first place?”
“Didn’t you just hear me? You’re his trusted lieutenant. If you bring me there and convince him I’m worthy of that same trust, things will go a lot faster.” She turned her back to me, walking away as she bit out her confession. “If I have to do it on my own, the walls I’ll have to tear down will take a lifetime.”
“And blackmailing me is just an added perk, I suppose.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she tossed out over her shoulder. “You’re just an insurance policy. I had a feeling you’d be resistant to my attempts at a reconciliation, so, as someone I know once said, ‘I haven’t survived this long without having a backup plan.’”
“Throwing my own words back in my face, huh?”
“Listening is a useful skill.” She winked. “You should try it sometime.”
She had me by the balls. She didn’t have to say the words to confirm it. I didn’t want to hear them anyway. Especially from her. There was no point in denying it now. The only thing left to do was figure out a way to turn this around and beat her at her own game.
Besides, if I was good at one thing, it was causing women to self-destruct.
I scrubbed my hands down my face. “They weren’t together, you know.”
Adriana glanced down at the shattered scotch bottle in front of her feet and sighed. “Does it matter? It was a selfish, risky gamble with low odds, Brody. One that an attorney such as yourself should know better than to attempt.” The shitty blue carpet squished under her high heels as she kicked a large piece of glass.
“Well, obviousl
y, my gamble, as you call it, didn’t pay out, so why turn Val’s life upside down over a bad roll of the dice? You wouldn’t be his savior. You’d be his destroyer. Would selling me out be worth the wrath that might come with that title?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she whirled around and glared at me. “A bad roll of the dice?”
“That’s what you got out of all that?” I pressed, trying to ignore the way her crossed arms exaggerated her already displayed breasts. “Were you even listening?”
“To every word.” The cords in her neck tightened, venom dripping from the forced pause between every word.
“And?”
Adriana took a calculated step, her stare hardening as broken glass crunched under the toe of her high heel. “And why not? I seem to have acquired a nasty little habit of reinventing myself these days.”
One more step. Crunch. Two more steps. Crunch.
Darting her tongue out, she licked her bottom lip while curling a finger around my tie. “Plus, no risk, no reward—and whatever wrath comes either of our ways, I’ll just chalk it up to a bad roll of the dice.” She gave my tie a hard tug. “At least this time, it’ll be on my terms.”
“You’re insane.”
“And you’ve been drinking since I left. What are you up to now, Brody? Half a bottle a day? More? I mean, you’re a bountiful mixed bag of sin. What are you trying to forget?”
“The fact that you’re here.”
“Maybe it’s the fact that you love the power of pulling that trigger a little too much. Quite possibly, it’s that your little rebellious phase caused you to go against a direct order and align with the Northside Sinners anyway.”
“Don’t push me, Adriana. I’m warning you.”
“There could even be a tiny part of you hidden away in whatever’s left of your conscience that’s haunted by what the roll of your dice did to me. But what you’re really trying to numb is buried deep within the dark and twisted layers of that ‘don’t give a fuck’ exterior. That’s where the real fear lives.”
“Shut up!”
“The fear that the all-powerful Valentin Carrera will one day find out the truth. That when you rolled the dice, you bet everything on the fact that her hatred for me would outweigh any love she had left for him.”
“That’s quite a story.”
“Yes, and quite cliched, if I’m honest. Even if you lost in the end, as long as Val lost too, that’s all that mattered, right?”
Son of a bitch.
This game of wits had turned into a battle to the death and sensing impending defeat, I flipped my middle finger in the air and headed for the door. “I’m out of here.”
“Stop!”
And like an idiot, I paused mid-stride, my hands clenched by my side with one foot in front of the other.
The room went silent.
“You’re running because I’m right. Because to look me in the eye would force you to see yourself. Not the man you pretend to be every morning, but the one you drown every night.”
I closed my eyes, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth cracked. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Don’t I?” she said, the jagged rawness in her voice tearing at my skin. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to crave escape from your own darkness? To want something to stop the voice in your head that whispers it all would end if you turned that gun around?”
I snapped. Suppressed rage erupted, hotter than lava and twice as destructive. Twisting around, I reached underneath my shirt, drew my gun from its holster, and pulled back the slide.
“Shut up!” In three wide steps, I had her shoved against the wall, my hand wrapped around her throat and glass crunching under our feet. Before she could say a word, I pressed the Glock against her temple. “You know so much, huh? Did you know I came here to get rid of you, Adriana? Did you know if I pulled this trigger right now, Val wouldn’t know any different?”
I waited for her to plead for her life. I wanted her to beg. I needed her to beg. I wanted to hear the words come from those tempting lips. All night I’d listened to them hurl insults and threats like it was her goddamn given right. Taunting me. Teasing me. Making me want things I had no business wanting.
And that dress didn’t help.
That tight, lacy, scrap of a dress that hugged her voluptuous body in all the right places. A dress that turned a man into a type of crazy that should never be left alone in a motel room with his boss’s sister.
“Then what are you waiting for?” she rasped as my grip tightened around her throat. “Do it.”
My gaze shifted to where my hand gripped her slim neck, and I lifted my thumb, trailing it along the side of her jaw. The move was simple but undeniably erotic. A strange buzz swayed me off balance, forcing our bodies together until there wasn’t an inch of space between us.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She laughed, the force of her hard exhale pushing her breasts against my chest. “Am I supposed to be intimidated?”
“Most women would be.”
“Sorry, counselor. You’re not the first man to pull his gun on me.” The tip of her tongue rested at the center of her top lip as her eyes lowered between us, then trailed back to mine with a wicked glint. “You won’t be the last.”
The hell I wouldn’t.
As if drawn by a magnetic force, my head lowered, my lips hovering so close to hers I felt her sweet breath against my skin. Adriana inhaled sharply, swallowing hard as I pressed my erection against her. Her inhales turned to pants, the battle raging inside her playing out across her face as she tipped her chin down, her eyes squeezing closed.
We stood there, immoral and reckless, toying with manipulative and dangerous. Two pinnacles of destruction that, if joined, would rip each other to shreds just to watch the other bleed.
As the implications of what I was about to do hit me, I came out of my haze of lust and turned my face, slamming my gun against the wall. “Fuck!”
Adriana flinched, but I didn’t stop. I slammed it over and over until the Sheetrock gave way under my repeated abuse. It wasn’t until I noticed blood running down my wrist that I spun around and stalked toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she called after me.
I swung the door open and stepped out onto the rickety balcony. “If you make good on your threat? To hell.” I stiffened as I heard her move behind me, refusing to look at her as I delivered my promise. “But don’t worry. No good deed goes unpunished. I’ll save you a seat.”
Chapter Nine
Brody
The scotch bottle was empty.
So were the other two.
Frustrated, I swept my arm across the desk and watched as all three clattered to the floor. Grimacing, I rubbed my eyes and ran my tongue across the roof of my mouth. Ugh. It was as dry as the Sahara and tasted like a camel shit in it.
This was what she’d reduced me to.
After leaving Adriana’s motel room last night, the last place I wanted to be was alone in an apartment filled with ghosts. So, I did the only thing I could think of—I drove to a bar filled with even more ghosts and spent the night having myself a one-man party. A deeper descent into an alcohol-induced stupor in an effort to maintain control. A Band-Aid for the inevitable.
A decision that didn’t seem as intelligent in the light of day.
Plus, it solved nothing. My problems were still there, only now they were compounded by a raging hangover. The upside was, as long as that jackhammer continued pounding in my head, I didn’t have to think about missing consulate generals or Colombian drug lords or pissed off Irish mob bosses or lost shipments or disgraced cartel princesses who fucked with my head more than I cared to admit.
Who said alcohol didn’t solve anything?
Pressing the heel of my palms against my eyes, I forced thoughts of her out of my mind and typed out a quick text to Carlos I put off last night. Yet another forbidden thing I flipped a middle finger at and did anyway. Val hat
ed texts. He claimed anything written came back to haunt you.
Bullshit. Everything came back to haunt you sooner or later.
Cancel the manhunt. Adriana Carrera showed up at Caliente yesterday. She’s not the one in charge of reorganization. She has a name. Will update soon.
I barely put the phone down when it chimed with a reply.
Fuck you. Fuck this. And fuck your mother. Delete this shit and get a new phone.
What was with the sudden fascination with fucking my mother?
The phone chimed again.
Now deal with it.
I rolled my eyes. Carlos’s subtly was on par with an atomic bomb.
I let out a breath, trying to redirect my energy and failing miserably. This was ridiculous. I put an end to her bullshit last night. She was probably on a bus back to wherever the hell she came from. Swiping a folder from my desk, I attempted to do something productive, but the fight with Adriana kept replaying in my head. The crazy thing was I didn’t know if I was more pissed about her threats or the fact that I wanted to rip that dress off her and bury my cock between her legs.
She was trying to blackmail me with the one thing that could destroy me. I hated her, but I was also man enough to admit I’d never wanted a woman more than when I had her shoved against that wall. Just thinking about it crossed all kinds of wires in my head again, and I threw my pen across the office.
The ache was unbearable, and I adjusted my hardening erection, trying to find some relief and failing miserably.
Fuck it. This was my office.
Popping the button on my slacks, I pulled my zipper down and freed my cock. It sprang up, hard as steel, the tip weeping in gratitude.
Drawn Blue Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel Page 7