After a quick shower, I started to shave, then remembered Adriana’s nails raking through the scruff filling in my cheeks and tossed the razor in the trash. Maybe it was time to ditch the clean cut, boy next door look. After all, I was a cartel lieutenant, and an intimidating image was everything in this world.
I smirked at the reflection in the mirror.
Yeah, it was time to lay Brody Harcourt, assistant district attorney to rest, and breathe life into Brody Harcourt,, first lieutenant of the Carrera Cartel.
And the first thing the new Brody Harcourt needed to do was get rid of the Armani suits. Adriana was right. They made me look like an investment banker. But my choices were limited, so I pulled on the black jeans she made me buy and a white button-up shirt, rolled up at the sleeves.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
My phone chimed with a text, and I groaned, knowing if Val heard it, there would be hell to pay. However, once I saw it was from Carlos, I didn’t care.
Not much on Cristiano Vergara, but Ignacio and Rosita are Colombian. Funny since I’ve never heard the name. Maybe an alias since I can’t find any record of Ignacio existing.
I forgot I’d asked him for intel. Since he had nothing on Cristiano’s whereabouts, I decided not to text him back since I had more information at this point.
Opening the door to the sitting room Val used for our meetings, I was met with silence. Val stood in his usual spot at the bar, glass in hand and eyebrow cocked. Mateo sat on the couch, one ankle crossed over his opposite knee, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“When’s the rodeo, cowboy?”
I stalked past him, flipping my middle finger. “Fuck off, Cortes.”
Val just poured a glass of scotch and held it out. “You’re late.”
Rolling my eyes, I reached for the glass, then hesitated as Adriana’s voice filled my head.
“You need to lay off the booze. I’ll never understand why people willingly destroy their bodies. It’s disrespectful to those who never got to make that choice.”
“Hell, Harcourt. Are you drunk already?”
I dropped my hand and stepped away from the glass. “No, not drunk. In fact, I think I’m going to stop drinking for a while.”
He stared at me, his face deceptively neutral. “Casual clothes? Sobriety? Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with my lieutenant?”
“Cupid shoved an arrow straight up his asshole.” Both of us turned to see Mateo, not even trying to hide his arrogant smirk.
I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. “Are we going to discuss business any time soon, or is he planning to toss out shitty one-liners all morning?”
Val set down the untouched scotch and lifted his tequila to his mouth. “Shut up, Mateo. That fucker shoved his arrow so far up your ass, I had to bail it out of jail. You have no room to talk.”
Mateo shot me a scowl, which I returned with a pleasant smirk and a middle finger.
“I have no intention of talking about this here,” Val said, pacing the room. “I’m tired of being one step behind this pinche pendejo. My men have searched the address Adriana gave you but found nothing. He’s on the move again. I’ve called a meeting with all my lieutenants in an hour. I want every top soldier we have on this. Ignacio Vergara will be stopped today if I have to track him down myself and send what’s left of him in a box to his mother.”
Mateo nodded. “So, we’re invading Guadalajara.”
Val’s hand clenched around his glass. “We’re invading Mexico. No one is safe until I have this asshole hanging by his feet.”
Blood pumped through my veins, and a rush of adrenaline awoke a dark craving inside me. “What are we waiting for?” I asked, running my hand over my gun holster. “Let’s go get this fucker.”
Six determined eyes. Six heavy feet. Six clenched fists.
All moved toward the hallway when an ear-piercing scream drew three loaded guns. I rushed toward the front door, Mateo sprinted toward the back while Val ran up the stairs, colliding halfway with a hysterical and crying Eden.
“Cereza! What the hell?” Val tried to take her in his arms, but she fought him like a rabid animal, fists flying at his arms, chest, one even landing across his jaw. “Cereza! Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.” However, there were only more screams, more crying, and more fists until Val had enough. “Eden!” he yelled, pinning her arms by her side. “Talk to me!”
She looked up at him, and the moment she looked in his eyes, the life drained out of her. Her body went limp, and she collapsed, her knees hitting the stairs with a sickening thud.
“Fuck,” Val growled, sinking onto his knees with her. Twisting around, he cradled her onto his lap, and wrapped his hand around her jaw, forcing her glassy eyed stare on him. “Cereza, tell me who did this to you, and I swear he will die by my hand tonight.”
That was when time stopped. Eden’s lifeless gaze shifted toward me, tears spilling down her cheek. “It’s not a he. It’s a she.”
My pulse roared in my ears, and Val stiffened. “She who?”
“Adriana.” Turning her watery eyes back to her husband, Eden ripped my world apart. “Santiago is gone. His crib is empty, Val, I—I looked everywhere. He’s gone, and so is Adriana. She took our son. I told you.” Pain turned to rage, and she screamed, driving her fists into Val’s chest. “I fucking told you not to let her come here! I told you this would happen! She murdered my brother, and now she’s taken our son! I hate you for this! I hate you! I-I…” She never finished. She collapsed again in hysterical tears, her pain so raw I grabbed my own chest.
No. She was wrong. Adriana wouldn’t harm Santiago. He was Val’s son. He was her family. I didn’t care what it looked like. Eden had it wrong.
I cleared my throat. “Val—”
Val’s face blanked. It was as if he went on autopilot. Scooping Eden into his arms, he barked out orders while climbing the stairs. “Cortes, search the grounds and look for any signs of forced entry. I want every staff member questioned and don’t hold back any method needed. Call the lieutenants and reroute the search from Vergara to my missing son and sister. Also, notify the doctor he’s to bring over sedatives. Not later; I want it done now. And get your wife over here, Eden isn’t to be left alone.”
I ran my hand across my mouth. “What can I do?”
Pausing with his wife cradled in his arms at the top of the stairs, Val turned a hard stare over his shoulder. “I think you’ve done enough.”
* * *
Mateo had done all that Val had asked and an hour later, we were no closer to an answer. All doors and windows were intact. There were no signs of forced entry. Val insisted on interrogating every staff member himself, and they swore under the threat of bodily harm, or during bodily harm they saw no one on the grounds or near the house.
Now Mateo and I sat in the Carrera estate kitchen, my unwanted presence a thorn in his side. Sighing, he rubbed his palm across his goatee, flipping his phone in his hand, unsure if I was serious or suicidal. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Good thing you’re not me.”
“Val just needed to lash out at someone. He’ll realize it’s not your fault. It’s not like you had any idea what she planned to do.” He stopped flipping his phone and glanced up at me out of the corner of his eye. “Did you?”
“Fuck you!”
Dropping his phone, he reared back, raising his palms in the air. “I had to ask.”
“She didn’t do this.” I still believed that. With every piece of my soul, I believed that. However, the longer both of them were gone, the harder it would be to convince anyone else. Every tick of the clock caused my stomach to plummet.
“Brody…”
“No!” I yelled. “She didn’t do this. Eden is confused. Adriana hurt her before, and she doesn’t trust her. I get that, but she doesn’t know her like do. She didn’t hurt that baby.”
“I don’t want to believe it either, all right? But there isn’t any other explanation.
If she didn’t do it, then why is she gone?”
I flinched at the question because I had no answer. That was what made me stay despite Val’s warning. It was why Mateo thought I’d lost my mind. Why anyone who valued his life would’ve been on a plane to Houston by now.
Brody Harcourt, the assistant district attorney, would have.
But Brody Harcourt, the first lieutenant, wasn’t backing down.
Not even for Valentin Carrera.
“I don’t know,” I said, clenching my teeth.
“You don’t know what?”
Mateo and I both turned to see Val standing in the entryway to the kitchen, shirt half untucked, his dark hair standing straight up, deep lines etched around the corners of his eyes, and shoulders hunched.
Never, in the years I’d known Valentin Carrera, had I ever seen him appear anything but formidable. He always stood tall, proud, his shoulders pushed back to terrorize and intimidate. Even when Manuel Muñoz kidnapped Eden, he still never lost his commanding presence.
But Santiago and Adriana were Val’s only family. They were his only tie to the humanity his mother instilled in him. It was at that moment I understood.
If he lost them, he lost that tie.
And that tie was the only thing keeping the son from becoming the man he was groomed to be.
I stood up. “Is Eden okay?”
Val continued into the kitchen, his movements robotic. “Her son is missing. What do you think?”
Mateo caught my eye, warning me with a slight shake of his head. But every minute I wasted worrying about my own ass was time wasted finding Adriana, so I turned my back to him.
“Val, you have to know Adriana didn’t do this. She wouldn’t hurt Santi.” I ignored the low exhale behind me and waited for the storm.
A storm that never came.
“Do you know what she asked me last night?” Val kept his back to me as he stared at the refrigerator. I assumed it was a rhetorical question, so I didn’t answer. “She told me she’d been to Santiago’s nursery. I already knew, of course. I’d already gotten an earful from Eden. She’d walked in and found Adriana caressing Santi’s cheek. Said she heard her whisper something about familia. Eden lost her shit, but Adriana didn’t fight back.”
The image of Adriana with Santi fueled my need to do something—anything—but I said nothing and let him continue.
“But it was what Adriana said to me that keeps running through my head. She said, ‘Are you sure he’s safe in there?’” He spun around, a vertical line sinking deep between his eyes. “I asked her what she meant, and she said something about having staff and sicarios coming in and out of the house, and shouldn’t I have security measures in place. I told her Santi was fine, but there was this look in her eyes. It was, fuck, I don’t know. It was sadness and fear. She said she had something to tell me, but then Eden came in, and she said she’d tell me later.” He sucked in a tired breath, his eyes shifting back to the refrigerator. “But later never came.”
No one said a word. All eyes just settled on the picture of the smiling baby stuck in the middle of a refrigerator that cost more than most people’s cars. No doubt put there by Eden, but Val couldn’t tear his eyes away. He traced the infant’s face, his shoulders sinking even lower.
“Why did she ask all that? Was she planning? Scheming?”
Then everything hit at once. Like a song playing in reverse, then suddenly skipping to the end.
She told me too. I just didn’t listen.
“This isn’t your problem, Brody. I’m not letting you take the fall for my mistakes. Past, present, or future.”
Then my own sister’s words rang in my ear.
“Salvation comes in many forms. Sometimes in the shape of your biggest regret.”
Adriana hated herself for the pain she’d inflicted on Val. Her salvation would be her redemption, but how would focusing on Santiago factor in with…
“Ignacio.” The word sounded as bitter as it tasted.
Val whipped back around. “What?”
“Ignacio has them. She didn’t take Santi. He took them both.”
Mateo’s chair scraped along the floor as he stood. “Do you have proof? She could’ve willingly taken Santi to him. She already admitted to him initially offering her a partnership.”
Val’s phone rang, and he straightened, his shoulders rising. He quietly listened, his face a mask of granite. “Sí. Muy bien. Estaremos esperando por usted.” Yes. Very good. We will be waiting for you. Disconnecting the call, his somber expression revived with what I knew to be the promise of blood. “No,” he said, his eyes flashing. “He doesn’t have proof. But I know someone who does.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Adriana
Tlajomulco de Zuñiga, Jalisco, Mexico
A familiar dank, musty smell hit me as soon as I opened my eyes. A metallic rust that only lingered with the stain of life. Only this time, there wasn’t just a stain.
Blood.
I smelled it. I tasted it. It felt its warmth pool under my cheek.
“Finally, the fly finds herself caught in the spider’s web.” Gravelly Spanish raked over my thin nerves like fresh sandpaper.
I rolled onto my back, forcing my native language from my raw throat. “Are you the fly or the spider?”
“I’m God.”
The two words hit me like a visceral blow to the chest. “Where is he? I demand you tell me what you did to him!”
“You’re not in any position to demand anything.”
“If you hurt him, I’ll kill you.”
Shaking his head, he pulled a cigar from his pocket. “Fighting until the bitter end, just like your whore mother.” The last word was garbled as he bit off the tip and spat it at my feet, his gaze never leaving mine as he lit the end. The glowing tip sparked to life, his cheeks sinking in as he sucked a few deep puffs.
I let out a silent breath. “Where is he?”
The low laugh that followed nearly broke my composure. “You know they think you did it.” He exhaled, a cloud of smoke pluming around his face. “I couldn’t have scripted it any better. You had every privilege. Everything handed to you. You think you shined up that crown, but one apologetic text message, and you opened the door for the devil, didn’t you?”
My heart free fell into my stomach, and with my ear pressed against the concrete floor, each step he took sounded like thunder. Bending down on his haunches, he bared stained yellow teeth in a smirk I wanted to carve off his face.
“I said you were the fly, but now that I think about it, you’re more of a black widow. Men have a nasty habit of dying around you, puta,” he snarled. “You got the entire Muñoz family murdered, and now look at the web you’ve spun around the Carreras and your gringo boyfriend.” He grabbed my hair, rancid breath heating my face. “I won’t mention what you did to me.” Slamming my head back down, he sat down. “I’m all for spilling enemy blood, but you’re out of control.”
Fire rushed through my veins. “Fuck you!”
With a demonic roar, he drew his arm back and swung, the back of his hand driving into the side of my face. Upon impact, my head snapped back, but I didn’t cry out.
He wiped my blood off his hand onto his jeans, scowling with a vile hatred beyond anything I’d ever seen. Cold black eyes, soulless from both being denied and betrayed stared at me with contempt. “Shut up, Carrera whore.”
I glared back at him, ignoring the blood dripping down my chin. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“Why not? It’s your name.” The hot breath on my neck disappeared as he resumed circling me like a lion. “You’re not a Muñoz. You’re the enemy. You proved that when you defied me, again. Carrera blood runs through your veins, and now it stains your hands.”
“Then kill me and get it over with.”
“I’ve already told you. I want Alejandro Carrera’s son to kneel before me. I want him to beg for my mercy. Killing you doesn’t benefit me yet. I need my puppet to dance for me one la
st time, and this time she’ll perform for an audience of three.”
I froze, each word cramming itself down my throat until I thought I’d choke. I saw the dark truth etched in his face and tattooed in his eyes, and panic erupted through my veins. He was going to use me to lure Val here.
To Santiago and to his death.
My frantic mind launched into overdrive, accusations spilling out one after the other. “You said if I defied you and didn’t bring Santi back to Tlajomulco de Zuñiga in four days, you’d expose me to Val and Brody. Your words, Ignacio. You said you’d kill your own son, ruin me, and then come after all of us. You barely gave me forty-eight hours.”
The more hysterical I got, the more he seemed to enjoy it, the dim light highlighting the sinister curve of his lips. “I knew the minute you walked out of this warehouse you had no intention of doing as you were told. That’s what a true leader does, Adriana. He doesn’t wait for shit to happen. He makes it happen.”
I fought for air. “I won’t help you.”
“You already have.”
“You’re lying,” I hissed. “Brody doesn’t know this place exists, and unless you plan to stop hiding like a little bitch, no one is coming for me. This is it, Ignacio. This is the end of the line. Walk into the sun or fade into the background. I don’t really give a shit.”
His cold eyes searched mine then hardened. “You really don’t know?”
I scowled through a rattled cough. “Enlighten me.”
“When said you were nothing but a puppet, I meant it. When I said you were the rat who never failed to take the offered cheese and got her fucking neck snapped, I meant it. When I explained that you’ve done exactly what I thought you would do and run to exactly who I thought you’d run to for years, I fucking meant it.”
“For years…” My voice trailed off as I stared at the blade, the words flitting through my head. Ignacio saw the moment they clicked together, his smile widening along with my eyes, my heart slamming against my chest. Slowly lifting my hand, I covered my mouth, my shoulders heaving with exertion.
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