Drawn Blue Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel

by Kenborn, Cora

  Before she could answer, he joined the man waiting at the opening in the back wall. Within seconds, two doors slid in from the side, and the minute they sealed, they were gone, leaving no trace of them ever being there in the first place.

  My gaze shifted to Adriana. She stood in a daze, her fingers pressed against the place on her chin where Cristiano touched her before running inside his wall like a fucking rat.

  “Screw this,” I muttered, turning around and stomping out of the office.

  “Brody!” she yelled, her high heels clacking against the floor as she ran to catch up with me. “Brody! Jesus, would you slow down?”

  I didn’t slow down, and she didn’t catch up until we reached the elevator. Dropping her head, she pressed her hand against the wall, her breath coming hard and fast. “I said to let me handle this.”

  “And I said you had ten minutes,” I snapped, punching my fist against the call button. “Seems like neither of us listened.”

  She tilted her chin toward me and glared. “You know this whole sit-there-and-look-pretty while-the-men-talk-bullshit is getting old, Harcourt.”

  “That man is dangerous, Carrera.”

  Adriana rolled her eyes just as a loud ding announced the elevator’s arrival. “Here we go again,” she muttered, stepping inside the opened doors.

  Her ignorance fueled an already lit fire raging out of control. My knuckles were white from clenching my fists too hard, and I gritted my teeth in a futile attempt to remain silent. But I followed behind her, caging my anger until the doors closed. Once I knew we were alone, I snapped, grabbing her around the waist and pushing her against the wall. “He knew the exact stash house we stayed at in Morelia. If you don’t think he’s balls deep in this, you’re kidding yourself.”

  Her face paled. “You’re wrong about him.”

  “Jesus Christ, Adriana! How can you be so ruthless and so blind at the same time? He’s giving you just enough information for you to hang yourself.”

  The tension inside the tiny metal box was so thick I could barely breathe. She didn’t answer me, and I didn’t give a shit. I was mad, but not for the reason I should be.

  She’d given me nothing but trouble. She’d threatened me and blackmailed me into lying to the one man I should never lie to. She’d made my life a living hell and would probably get me killed. She insulted me, berated me, disobeyed every order I gave her. But what pissed me off the most was that despite all of it, I wanted her. I wanted every goddamn inch of her. I wanted to wrap her legs around my waist and drive into her so hard, she’d forget how to speak.

  The most pathetic thing was I wanted her to want me too. I wanted her to willingly give herself to me. And yes, fuck it, I wanted her to kiss me.

  But I didn’t want her to do it with that damn wig on.

  The thought barely formed in my head before I had my hand on it. “I hate this damn thing. Take it off.”

  “Are you insane? I need it to—”

  “Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.” I had no idea where the command came from, but I wasn’t backing down. When she hesitated, I gave it a sharp tug, and she yelped.

  “Fine, Jesus. It’s pinned. Give me a damn minute.” Pins flew at my head like small torpedoes, but I got my way. The bright red atrocity landed at my feet, and I looked up to find her glaring at me, fists clenched and mad as hell.

  With long dark hair falling over her shoulders.

  The elevator stopped, and whatever force held us together snapped. Adriana shoved both hands against my chest, running a hand through her hair as she stomped into the darkened hallway leading toward the club.

  In a complete reversal, now I chased her as the muffled beat from the club vibrated the walls around us. “Adriana! Would you slow down? Christ, how do you run so fast in those things?”

  She was already halfway across the club when I caught her arm. Spinning around, she jerked out of my hold, eyes blazing. “Dios mío, are you always this suffocating? Because if so…” Her tirade trailed off as her eyes drifted over my left shoulder then widened in panic. “Oh shit.”

  “What?” I turned to see she was looking at when she jerked my arm and tugged me back.

  “Why don’t you send up some flares while you’re at it?” Glancing over my shoulder again, she groaned. “Fuck, they’re blocking the exit.”

  “Who’s blocking the exit?”

  She grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

  I didn’t have a chance to argue before she dragged me toward the dance floor, refusing to stop until she had us sandwiched in the middle of what could only be described as a human petri dish as bodies writhed around us in a hedonistic orgy. Everybody grinded, touched, rubbed, and stroked to Latin-infused rap music set to a techno salsa beat.

  I’d never seen anything like it.

  Adriana turned around and pressed her ass so hard against me I groaned. “We’re being watched,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Act like you want me.”

  “Tell me what the hell is—”

  Lifting her chin, Adriana plastered a fake smile on her face, and that’s when I saw the fear hiding behind her eyes. The rare show of vulnerability struck a familiar chord inside me.

  I stepped back, but Adriana held tight, sliding a hand to my cheek and running her fingers through the stubble. “Play along, counselor. Your life may depend on it.”

  Whatever little control I had left splintered. Grasping her hips, I hauled her against me, pressing every inch of her body against mine. We fit together like a puzzle. Soft curves molded into hard muscle, and wrapping my hands around her waist, I rolled my hips to the sinful beat. I smiled at her sharp inhale and trailed a hand up her stomach, my fingers barely grazing the edge of her breast before sinking them deep into her hair.

  “Brody?” The breathy way she said my name was so damn sexy I almost forgot why we were doing this. Good thing I was one hell of a multitasker.

  Tightening my hand in her hair, I pulled just hard enough for her ear to land by my mouth. “We’re going to play a game, princesa. It’s called I ask a question, and you answer.” Just to drive my point home, I ground my erection against her ass.

  She pressed her lips together, trying to hold in a lusty whimper. “Fine.”

  “Who’s here?” Sweat rolled down my temple as we dipped and swayed to the evocative rhythm. When she didn’t answer, I ran my hand down her thigh and slipped my fingers under her dress.

  “Men,” she groaned, digging her nails into the back of my neck. “Muñoz men. They…fuck…” Her knees buckled as I toyed with the edge of her panties. “They know me.”

  “See? This isn’t so hard.” I chuckled and nipped at her ear. “Or maybe it is. You tell me.” Bending my knees, I gave a sharp upward thrust under her dress. Taking advantage of the position, I moved my hips, my jean-clad cock rubbing against the outside of her drenched panties.

  “Ay, Dios mío.”

  “Let’s try another one. Is this what your fiancé left to arrange?”

  “Ex-fiancé.” Her breath hitched as I hooked my finger in the scrap of lace, pulling them to the side while continuing to roll and thrust my hips. “And no, he has nothing to do with this.”

  I stilled all movement. “I don’t share, Adriana.”

  She looked up, raw want in her eyes. “There’s nothing between us.”

  I didn’t answer. Partly because I wasn’t sure if I believed her, and partly because I was suspicious as to what she was doing. Was she giving into whatever was building between us, or was I simply getting played? She was supposed to fight me, flip me off, and tell me to go to hell. Instead, she wiggled, forcing the friction I denied her, and I let out a low curse.

  I stood still, my conscience at war with my cock. The choice was mine. Did I take what I knew we both wanted, or did I draw a line in the sand? Maybe on neutral ground, it would’ve been a fair fight, but standing in the middle of a hedonistic hurricane, my conscience never stood a chance.

  Throbbing
with need, I resumed my slow grind, enticing a broken moan from Adriana’s lips. I glanced around at the sweaty bodies surrounding us. The dance floor was crowded, and nobody cared what anyone else was doing. The whole place looked like one big orgy anyway. We already looked like we were fucking. The only thing stopping it from happening was a scrap of denim and a thin layer of restraint. All I had to do was free both, and I’d sink right into her.

  Fuck it.

  Releasing her hair, I reached for my zipper when I heard the first gunshot.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Adriana

  Brody’s hand hit the back of my legs, and I closed my eyes. I could’ve stopped him. I should’ve stopped him. I knew what he was doing. I knew the complications it would cause and the consequences.

  I just didn’t care.

  I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Brody Harcourt and I stood on opposite sides of the battle line, but hating the lieutenant didn’t stop me from wanting the man. And I wanted him with a desperation that clawed at my soul. He’d become a drug, poisoning my body with a fatal addiction I craved. Touching him was like flirting with death. I found myself risking everything for the high. But with risk came consequence, and when tempting the devil, it came with the promise of another breath.

  I felt him fumble for his zipper, and I bit my lip. Muñoz sicarios weaved through the crowd like mice, and I had no doubt Cristiano watched everything from one of the hundreds of hidden cameras, but the danger only added to the intrigue. This was the highest level of insanity, but I wanted it more than my next breath.

  I tightened my hold around his neck in preparation when a loud pop jolted me back into reality. I recognized the sound immediately. Growing up cartel, it was the nature of the beast. By age two, I knew the sound of a gunshot better than my mother’s voice.

  Brody’s hands fell from my body, our close embrace disintegrating as his head jerked up. A handful of people stopped to cast a curious glance around, but the majority of them ignored the prelude to chaos, continuing to dance in indulgent ignorance.

  A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked back to see Brody’s eyes wide and wild. “Adriana, get—”

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Shot after shot ripped through the club, confused partygoers standing stock still until people collapsed to the floor and blood splattered across their faces. Then screams drowned out the still thumping music and mass panic ensued. People were shoved, pushed, trampled, and used as human shields.

  Trying to stay on my feet while being shoved around like a human pinball, I shoved my hand under my dress and unsnapped my thigh holster. Within seconds, I pulled my Colt 380 from the inside of my left thigh and scanned the chaos for a familiar face.

  Just not the one that showed up.

  “Son of a bitch!” Cristiano came barreling past me in a blur of rage and shoved Brody into a screaming wall of people. “Get her out of here!”

  All I could do was watch as Brody came back with a vengeance. Grabbing a handful of Cristiano’s shirt, he wrenched him forward and growled through clenched teeth, “You’re the one with invisible doors. You get her out of here!”

  Before Cristiano could react, Brody shoved him backward with so much force he tripped and slammed into the mirrored wall behind him. I stood there with my mouth open and a loaded gun in my hand in shock. I’d never seen anyone manhandle Cristiano Vergara like that. I’d never seen anyone dare try. I was surprised Brody was still breathing, and from the look on Cristiano’s face, so was he.

  I jumped as a new round of shots rang out. Steadying my trigger finger, I turned to shout orders when Brody’s muscular arm hooked around my upper back.

  “What the—” That was all I got out before the room spun in a frenzied swirl of light and sound as I crashed into Cristiano’s hard chest.

  “Dios mío,” he wheezed.

  It was dark, but that didn’t hide the glint of steel I saw in Brody’s hand. My stomach dropped. What the hell was he planning to do? Take them all out by himself? We were supposed to be in this together. I was a trained killer, not some damsel in distress.

  Stupid motherfucker.

  I scrambled to my feet, only to be spun back around into the arms of the abnormally large dickhead from upstairs. Cristiano took my gun out of my hand and nodded to him, something unspoken passing between them. “Take her to the rattle room,” he instructed, pulling his own gun from inside his jacket. “Keep her quiet by any means necessary.”

  “Give me back my gun!” I yelled. “And what the hell is a rattle room?” He didn’t answer. His back was already turned as he walked away, swallowed into the thinning but still hysterical crowd. When the guard started toward a door near the corner of the room, I did the only thing I could think of. I went limp and became one hundred and twenty-seven pounds of dead weight.

  He dragged me two feet before turning to glare at me. “You think I won’t throw your ass over my shoulder, puta?” I pinched my lips together and glared right back at him. Sighing, he bent down, scooping me up like I weighed nothing and tossed me over his shoulder. “Now shut up, or I’ll gag you. Boss’s orders.”

  I lifted my head, a cold numbness spreading through me as I took in the destruction and carnage. The room that moments ago was alive with the scent of desire now smelled metallic, a stench fueled by blood and revenge. Death never bothered me before, but as I watched Brody and Cristiano grow smaller and smaller with every step, my heart lodged in my throat

  I couldn’t leave them.

  I struggled, beating my fists against his back, but the harder I hit, the tighter his grip became. “Let me go!”

  “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  I sighed. “Have it your way.”

  I had long legs. They came in handy during strenuous physical activities like running, rock climbing or kicking a man in the balls while hanging upside down.

  Plus, they looked great in heels.

  Bracing my hands on his back and my knee against his stomach, I swung my foot as hard as I could and prayed. His muffled grunt was my only warning before we both hit the floor. Luckily, my hands took the brunt of my fall, and I quickly got to my feet, leaving him groaning on his knees.

  Brody and Cristiano stood back to back, guns firing when I ran toward them. Cristiano saw me a fraction of a moment too late. I pulled my fist back and swung, his head snapping back with the force of my momentum.

  Damn, that hurt.

  He grabbed his chin, his eyes a little unfocused. “What the fuck?”

  “Give me my gun.” I half expected him to argue, but to my surprise he dug inside his jacket and dropped it my waiting hand. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll shoot your dick off and shove it up your ass.”

  He glanced at Brody. “Is she like this all the time?”

  “Yep.” Brody shrugged, and his face contorted in pain. That was when I noticed the sheen of sweat coating his forehead and the rip in the arm of his shirt.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I didn’t wait for an answer. My hands were on him despite multiple attempts to push me away. I prodded at the hole, my fingers coating in warm, sticky wetness. “Dios mío, you’re bleeding!”

  He’d been shot, and I wasn’t here to prevent it.

  Brody gently held my wrist. “Adriana, stop. A bullet grazed my arm. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing!” I yelled, a foreign panic tearing through me. “You could’ve been killed! Do you think about anybody but yourself?” Gasping for air, I braced my hands on my thighs and looked up to see both men staring at me like they’d encountered an untamed animal in the wild.

  Shit.

  Avoiding their eyes, I stood and cleared my throat. “Status.”

  Cristiano nodded. “They were definitely Muñoz. Five of them. Two at the entrance, one at the bar, and two at the east and west side of the dance floor. Three confirmed dead, one ran like a litt
le bitch. I’ve got men on him now.”

  “And the fifth?”

  The two men exchanged glances. “That’s why we’re still shooting.”

  “But you’re an associate. Why would they turn on you like this?”

  He steadied his eyes on the entrance, then, drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled hard and leveled a hard stare at me. “I told you, Mari. Information comes with a price.”

  Deep down, I already knew it, but it still cut deep to hear the words. “They came for me and sacrificed you.” For the first time, I really saw what I caused by coming here. The blood, the death, the bodies. The dozens of lives lost because of a last name that was never even mine to start with. “All these people…” I swallowed, glancing up at Brody, guilt washing over me in a sickening red wave. “We have to go.”

  “Adriana,” he said, his tone cautious. “If they found us here, they can find us anywhere. We can’t go back to the stash house. That’ll be the first place they look.”

  “I have a place you can go to.” We both turned toward Cristiano, still rubbing his now swollen jaw. “No one knows about it, not even my own men.” He shot me a pointed look. “You know the code.”

  Brody stiffened beside me, and I blew out a breath. I knew the place Cristiano referred to, and he was right. I did know the code. I knew it because I chose it, and the thought of being there with Brody sent my heart free falling into my stomach.

  Then reality arrived with a sharp reminder. “I don’t think…” I winced, blowing out a painful breath. “I mean, I have to go…”

  Cristiano held up a hand. “It’s okay. I have you covered. There’s still plenty—”

  “Perfect!” Taking Brody’s hand, I rushed toward the entrance before he said anything else. “We’ll go now.” Glancing back, I nodded toward his gun. “Got my back?”

  I blinked, confused at the hint of sadness that flashed in his eyes.

  “Always.”

  * * *

  Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico