I was a thing to him. A possession.
Gripping the pendulum tightly, I turned to slam it back on the desk when the light from my phone passed over a glint of gold. It sat in front of my shoe, inviting me to come closer. Daring me to listen to its secrets. Beads of sweat scattered across my forehead and my heart felt like it had clawed its way outside my chest only to be left swinging like his stupid pendulum.
Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.
I picked it up with a shaking hand, curious and afraid of what I might find. And then I laughed. Low at first, and then uncontrollably with my head thrown back. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe.
It was a motherfucking key.
I turned it over to find three engraved numbers on it.
384
No location. No nothing. Just a numbered key to an unknown lock, which I had no doubt hid all of Esteban’s skeletons. Who better than me to open it and watch them all tumble out?
“Nice try, old man. You’re good, but I’m better.”
It was a pretty safe bet that somewhere in Guadalajara, there was a safe deposit box housing a ticking time bomb, and here I was with a key in one hand, a pendulum in the other, and a lot of questions for Cristiano Vergara.
The weight of the pendulum caused it to shift in my hand, and I felt the small slit underneath the base. Without hesitation this time, I flipped it over and held it next to my phone.
“I’ll be damned.”
The light shined on a perfectly cut rectangular opening, no more than an eighth of an inch wide and just long enough to fit a key. I’d bet my life that lying somewhere around here was a piece of wood that once sealed all this illogical secrecy.
My grip tightened on the pendulum as footsteps shuffled outside the hallway.
“Adriana! Where are you?”
Shit.
Why couldn’t that man listen for once? Standing, I dropped the pendulum back on the desk and pocketed the key. “I’m coming,” I yelled.
I’d gotten a lot of things wrong in life. I’d made wrong calls and trusted the wrong people. Maybe I didn’t know how I planned to stop myself from ending up the final Muñoz casualty, but I did know two things. One, my father was a psychopathic narcissist who kept a detailed log of everyone’s dirty little secrets, and two, I was about to reveal them all.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brody
“You’re going to do what?”
I held the phone out and let Val yell while opening a can of what I hoped was soup. When he brought it down to a low roar, I held it up to my ear. “I said we’re going to check banks and see what we can find. It’s like playing slots. Sooner or later, one has to pay out.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Promises, promises.”
“You get yourself and my sister involved in a shooting at a club belonging to her ex and you don’t call me. Then you trespass on rival property and you still don’t call me.” He let out a low laugh, but it wasn’t out of humor. “My benevolent side is wearing thin, Harcourt.”
“As soon as I have more information, I’ll call back.”
“Brody,” Val said, hesitation in his voice. “Adriana’s back is against the wall. She has nothing to lose and everything to gain. While I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, I won’t trust without verifying. You should do the same.”
“Right.”
“By the way, I’ve got some news on your friend Leo Pinellas.”
Ten minutes later, I ended the call, my chest tightened, but it had nothing to do with Leo.
Everything he said about Adriana was true. I knew better than anyone lies were told by the sweetest of lips. I had to remind myself she was a dangerous killer, just like the one I’d become.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know if that deterred me or excited me.
* * *
I glanced up at the big round clock on the wall.
4:47 p.m.
If the bitch in front of us counting out coins like she was about to play slots until her next birthday didn’t move, the bank would close before we had our turn. Clearing my throat and tapping my toe did nothing but feed my irritation. Finally, she swept them into her huge old lady bag and waddled past us, returning my glare as she walked by.
Last night, we determined the key she found was to a bank safe deposit box, so after we got up this morning, we set out to find the bank it belonged to. Only now, it was eight hours later, and after driving from bank to bank, my patience ran on fumes.
“¡Próximo!” Next!
Adriana and I stepped up to the teller window, and I ground my teeth as Adriana held up the key she stole from her father’s house, reciting the same ridiculous speech in Spanish I’d heard six times already. If there was a seventh speech, I couldn’t promise that damn key wouldn’t end up shoved up someone’s ass.
Because to tell the truth, I was fucking tired of not knowing what they were saying. “¿Alguien de aquí habla inglés?” Does anyone here speak English?
Adriana glared at me, but thankfully, the bank teller flashed an overly white smile. “Yes, of course. I speak very good English.”
“Good. Use it,” I growled, her overly perky attitude grating on my last nerve.
Her lips wavered a little at my tone, but she was still smiling when she turned back to Adriana. “Yes, Miss Muñoz, box 384 does belong to Esteban Muñoz. According to our records, it has been untouched for three years.” A line formed between her eyebrows as she stared at her computer screen. “Very strange.”
“What’s strange?” Adriana asked.
“Usually, our customers pay yearly, but when Mr. Muñoz rented the box, he prepaid ninety-seven thousand pesos. It’s highly unusual. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”
“He knew he wouldn’t be around to make the payments,” I muttered.
The teller tilted her head. “What was that?”
“Nothing. Look, we’re on a tight schedule. Can we just see the box?”
“I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.”
Adriana’s head shot up. “Why the hell not?”
The teller gave her a thin smile. “Mr. Esteban Muñoz is the only name listed on the safe deposit box. Just because Miss Muñoz has the key and claims to be his daughter, that doesn’t give me authorization to allow her access.” She tapped a pink painted nail against her computer screen as if we could see it. “Her name has to be on the account itself. I’m sorry.”
She was sorry?
Somewhere in that vault was a truth bomb ticking away the seconds of the Carrera Cartel’s destruction. Unless I could convince some half-wit to stop wasting my time and unlock the gate, it would detonate, and Adriana and I would both be as good as dead.
And she was fucking sorry?
With a quick look around, I noted there were only two tellers and one office manager in the entire place and made a snap decision.
Pulling my gun, I glanced at her nameplate while aiming it at her face. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Maya. You’re going to let Miss Muñoz back there to get her father’s shit right now. If not, I’ll put a bullet in your head, and…” I swung the gun toward a younger woman two windows down from her. “I’m sure Selena over there would be happy to do it for you.”
Maya nodded like a bobblehead and let out a high-pitched wail while she blubbered, snot flying everywhere as she begged for her life.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Adriana hissed beside me.
“Shut up and take this.” Keeping my gun level, I reached for my ankle holster and handed her another one.
Her eyes widened. “Where the hell did you get that?”
From Guns R Us—where the hell did she think I got it?
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe from the haul you requested from your fiancé. Now stop asking me stupid questions and go!”
Taking the gun, she pointed it at Maya and motioned her toward the back. Once they disappeared, I turned my attention toward Selena, the catat
onic teller.
“What’s your boss’s name?”
“Vicente Hernandez.” Selena spat the name as if it was the vilest thing she’d ever tasted.
I was starting to like this girl.
I let out a loud whistle. “Hey, Vic, I’m going to need you to come out here, and I suggest you do it now because I promise you don’t want me to come get you.”
The fucker had been hiding out in his office the whole time.
Coward.
Slowly, the office door opened and a middle-aged man wearing a cheap suit and a bad comb-over walked out with his knees shaking and his hands up. “Por favor don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“¡Sí!”
I turned toward Selena and pointed the gun at her head. “Tell you what, Vic, I’ll make you a deal. Only one of you is walking out of here today, so since you’re the man in charge, you tell me who it’s going to be. Do I shoot Selena or you?”
I was only half-serious. That was the lawyer-half. However, the lieutenant-half was still waiting on his answer.
He didn’t hesitate. “Her. Shoot her.”
Piece of shit.
“Unfortunately, that’s the wrong answer, Vic.” Swinging the gun around, I fired once, and Vicente Hernandez hit the ground. Shaking my head, I noted Selena’s shocked face. “I can’t stand a weak man,” I explained. “At least die with dignity.”
“Are you going to kill me?” They were the first words she’d spoken since giving me a dead man’s name.
Never leave a witness.
It was the cartel’s number one rule, but something in her eyes that told me she understood the value of silence.
Call it instinct.
“Selena, I want you to listen very carefully,” I said, lowering the gun. “I will know where you sleep, where you eat, and the names of your family. If you open your mouth to say anything other than, ‘I don’t remember,’ I will find you and kill you slowly until you beg for death. ¿Me entiendes?” Do you understand me?
Instead of breaking down, Selena dipped her chin. “Te entiendo.” I understand you.
“Now, just so things don’t look suspicious, I have to do this.” Lifting my arm, I pulled the trigger and sank a bullet in her shoulder. She screamed and crumbled to the floor. “Don’t worry, it’s not fatal. Been shot there myself.”
“Let’s go!” I yelled toward the vault.
I heard shouting and another high-pitched wail just before another shot rang out. Before I could react, Adriana ran out from the back holding a brown envelope in her hands. She didn’t give the bodies on the ground a second glance as she tore out the door.
Once we were a safe distance away, I called Rafael and instructed him to use his more useful talents to hack into the bank’s surveillance system and erase the feeds from the last half hour.
We drove in twenty minutes of silence before Adriana turned to me. “You shouldn’t have left a witness.”
“Don’t start with me.”
“Wow, someone’s in a bad mood.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m fine.”
I caught her bored stare out of the corner of my eye and hated the sudden rush of blood through my veins as she raked that sultry gaze down my body.
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re about to rip that steering wheel off and beat somebody with it.” I forced myself to look away as she settled her attention back on the road.
“Pretty and perceptive. Tell me again why some lucky guy hasn’t snatched you up yet?” Before she could respond, I answered with a smirk of my own. “Oh, that’s right, it must be because you learned your social skills from a bunch of psychopaths.”
“Wow, that was a good one,” she exclaimed, giving me a slow clap. “It must be nerve-racking throwing all those stones inside that glass house of yours."
My smirk faded. As much as I enjoyed this push and pull between us, I couldn’t forget what Val said. Adriana’s back was against the wall. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. While he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, he wouldn’t trust without verifying. He was right, and I needed to find out what he’d uncovered and give him an update on whatever was in that envelope. Especially since there were now two more bodies to contend with. He wouldn’t be happy we left them there, but without the surveillance tape, nothing could be traced back to us.
I had no doubt this Ignacio posed a real threat against Val. The man I reported to was a walking bull’s-eye. However, she was hiding something else. Originally, I convinced myself it involved an intricate plot to take me down simply for screwing her over, but now I had a feeling what lay behind that secret smile was much worse.
“I said I’m fine. I’m just ready to get this shit over with you and get back to Houston.”
Adriana’s eyes snapped back to mine. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“You heard me.”
Silent for a moment, she squinted and studied me. “You’re punishing me for turning you down the other night.”
“That’s funny, I don’t remember you turning me down. What I remember is fucking you over the hood of this car.”
Her cheeks flushed. “That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about afterward when you insinuated that you wanted more.”
A confession said in the heat of an argument I wished I could take back. I swore to never let my guard down, but despite every effort, she managed to slip behind my defenses. A mistake I didn’t intend to repeat.
Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I snorted. “Don’t lean too far forward, or you’re going to fall off that pedestal you’ve put yourself on, princesa.”
Adriana reared back as if I’d slapped her. A few tense moments passed as we stared at each other. Eventually, the shock on her face faded into suspicion. “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?”
“Live this life. Cartel life. Val and I were born into it, but you chose it. It’s going to be a hard existence for you. Our world is too blood tied for you to ever truly belong.” Shifting, she waved a hand from my shoulders to my waist. “I mean, Dios mío, look at you with your Armani suit and your manicured hands, and…”
“My white skin?”
Adriana’s lips parted. “I didn’t say that.”
She didn’t have to.
“You don’t think I have to work three times as hard as anyone else just to prove myself?” I didn’t bother hiding the steel in my voice. “I have more eyes on me than I care to count. Hell, half the time I don’t know if someone wants to shake my hand, cuff it behind my back, or fucking cut it off at the wrist.”
“So, why do it?”
Baring my teeth in a cold smile, I cupped her cheek. “Newsflash, sweetheart, other than a 6x8 jail cell or a 3x6 grave, this is all I have left. And until I’m forcefully shoved in one or the other, I am your fucking familia.”
Her eyes darkened as she slapped my hand away. “How dare—”
“So,” I continued, cutting her off. “You’ll have to excuse me if I’m still figuring out the proper protocol for entertaining my boss’s recently resurrected petulant sister while she holds my balls in her hands.”
“I’m not petulant,” she growled, folding her arms across her chest.
For the next thirty minutes, we gave each other the silent treatment, the conflict inside me driving me insane. I'd never had such a violent urge to simultaneously sink a blade and my dick in a woman before. I hoped for both our sakes she kept her mouth shut, but by the time we made it back to Chapala, my anger gave way to curiosity.
Tilting my chin, I nodded to the envelope resting in her lap. “Are you going to look inside that thing or what?”
“Later.”
“Adriana…”
“Don’t push me,” she warned, placing a protective hand over the it. “You may have been the boss in Houston, but you’re in Muñoz territory. That means I call the shots here, not you.”
“Fine,” I growled,
flinging my door open. “But if you think I’m calling you boss, you can shove that crown up your ass, princesa.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Adriana
Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico
“You can’t put it off forever you know.” Brody’s eyes shifted to the unopened letter, still sitting in my lap.
We sat on the stairs in between the kitchen and the living room, just like when I tended to his injury. Only this time, he wasn’t the one who was bleeding. At least, not in the literal sense.
My wound went much deeper than the simple graze of a bullet, and there wasn’t enough vodka in the world to cleanse it. Its gnawing presence never left me. It kept me on edge, pulling me forward while pushing others away. Hiding its dark secrets while slowly destroying me.
The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.
Sometimes I wondered if a part of me always knew things would end this way. That sins of the past would come full circle, and the one who was spared would be the one who ended the reign.
“Adriana?” Brody lightly bumped my shoulder, and I blinked away the burn behind my eyes. “Did you hear me?”
I picked up the envelope and ran my fingers along the edge. “Yeah, I heard you. Listen, before I open this, I need to say something, but I need you to not make it weird.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“When I came to Houston, I wasn’t lying. Adriana Carrera was the only name I had left, and I wasn’t going to sit by while some pinche cabrón ruined it. I never hid that I knew bargaining information would force Val to align with me.”
Brody’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Bargaining? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Would you shut up and let me finish?” I growled, slapping the envelope across his injured arm.
“Ow! Jesus, okay!”
“I’m trying to apologize for what I said in the car. You’ve had every opportunity to turn on me, and if I’m being honest, every right to. I threatened to ruin your life, yet when shots were fired at El Palacio, your first instinct was to protect me.” I turned to him, the envelope crinkling in my hand. “Why?”
Drawn Blue Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel Page 22