Protector Of Convenience (Rogue Protectors Book 2)

by Victoria Paige

  “No, I won’t,” she spat. “Don’t you see? The cartel has a way of destroying lives, but we shouldn’t let it destroy ours. Our relationships. My own brother destroyed so many people and I had to live with that guilt, but not anymore. I refuse. Don’t take it out on Miguel. He didn’t pull the trigger. He was trying to save your uncle from a bigger mistake.”

  “He was shot twenty times,” Joaquín said hoarsely, face ravaged in a way Migs had never seen. And the image of watching his uncle gunned down as Migs was held back by the rest of the CIA team replayed like a nightmare in his head. He’d punched a few of his own men, trying to get to his uncle but they jumped on him, sat on him, so he wouldn’t get himself killed.

  “I was there,” Migs whispered. “I saw him go down and I was helpless because my team held me back.” Ariana gripped his hand, and he drew strength from her to go on. “But that’s no excuse. I should have been with him.”

  His cousin stared at him for a long time. “And have yourself killed as well?”

  “It felt that way for the longest time,” Migs said raggedly. “I would have willingly taken the bullets for Tio Pepito. Please know that.”

  “Your guilt makes sense,” Joaquín said quietly. “The destruction of the Carillo cartel soon after his death only solidified the code that it was forbidden to harm an Alcantara. I guess it worked in perpetuating the myth?”

  Migs stared at the floor.

  “So my father gave up the cartel’s inner circle,” his cousin asked after a length of time.

  “Yes.”

  “La Tia Delia knows this.”

  “I’ve told her, but as far as my family is concerned, I’m DEA.”

  Joaquín smiled faintly. “They probably suspect more by now.”

  “What?” Migs growled.

  “The incident in Venustiano has probably reached their ears.”

  “Shit.” Migs scrubbed his face. “I have to let them know we’re okay.”

  “Already done. I told them you got Ariana back when you were cleaning up. I should have told you to call them back.”

  Migs exhaled deeply. “Thanks, cuz.”

  “They have questions.”

  Fuck.

  Before Joaquín could say anything else, Elena burst into the veranda, her usual polished self nowhere in sight.

  “Joaquín?” she said nervously.

  “What happened?”

  “They left.”

  Migs stilled. “What do you mean they left?”

  “Antonio used the excuse to see the plantation to get to the airfield. He left with Doctor Bennett. He pulled a gun on our driver.”

  “Where the fuck did he get a gun?” Migs growled. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe that fucker left us here.” He vented his frustration by kicking a chair.

  “Wait, what about the vi- … Doctor Bennett’s stuff?” Ariana asked. “She wouldn’t leave without them?”

  “You mean the things those Army guys were looting?” Joaquín scoffed. “Mr. Andrade had them transferred to his plane immediately. He said he doesn’t trust our security. Why, what’s in it? Money?”

  “Important intel,” Migs clipped.

  “Look at you, such a gringo agent,” Joaquín smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a plane. I can have you flown to the U.S.”

  Migs thought about Garrison. He wasn’t going to like this. “I need to make some calls.”

  28

  “What do you mean you can’t get hold of Garrison?”

  Migs was on the phone with Nadia. The spook and the entire spec ops team was last heard from entering Mexico City, dodging the corrupt Army soldiers and trying to get to the American Embassy.

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Nadia snapped. “They went radio silent, probably to avoid getting caught.”

  “Fuck,” Migs said. “Okay. I’ve left him messages. He’ll call me back when he’s clear.”

  “I’m trying to get through to one of his contacts in the Mexican police. We’re trying to keep this on the down low without letting the government know this is happening.”

  “Too late,” Migs said. His eyes lifted to see Joaquín who was giving him the signal that they were about to take off. “Listen, I’m getting on a plane.”

  “Still can’t believe you let Andrade get away,” Nadia said.

  “I didn’t think he was going to pull a runner.”

  “He kidnapped an American citizen. Did he think about that?”

  “Fuck knows what he was thinking,” Migs grumbled, but he also wondered if the virus was now out of Benito’s grasp, would he stop pursuing them? “Listen. I’ve got to go. I’m heading to San Diego and I don’t want to make my family here take any heat from the Mexican Army.”

  “I thought they had their own private defense.”

  “They do, but no telling how desperate Benito is or what he will do once he finds out the virus is gone. Contact me immediately when you hear from Garrison.” Migs ended the call and headed up the clam shell steps of his cousin’s private plane. Joaquín was talking to the pilot, leaving instructions before turning to Migs. “I hope to see you again under better circumstances, cuz.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry if trouble is heading your way.”

  “Don’t worry. They can’t force their way into town. I’ve already called their commandant.”

  “Heard he’s incorruptible.”

  “One of the few,” Joaquín nodded. “Carillo should have known better than to mess with the Alcantaras.”

  His cousin glanced over to where Ariana was already buckled into a seat. “So you see, your husband didn’t lie. You have the protection of the Alcantara name. Our armor has a few dents, but we’re going to hammer those out.”

  “Thank you.”

  The two cousins faced each other and gripped each other’s shoulders in a parting gesture.

  “Cuídate.”

  “Gracias, Joaquín.”

  Migs took his seat beside Ariana who snuggled up to him after takeoff. And as their plane rose higher, he felt the shackles of his guilt falling away. He still needed to come clean with Abbi Mena, but Joaquín was the biggest hurdle. As for Hector, he probably already knew because Migs suspected his younger cousin was the one who sent those pictures to his brother.

  He pressed a kiss on top of Ariana’s head and couldn’t wait to get her back Stateside.

  Ariana glanced out the window in trepidation. Their plane taxied into a private hangar at San Diego International Airport. Migs was on the phone with his father and, from what she could glean from his side of the conversation, they were waiting at the hangar. How would they react when they saw her? Everything bad that had happened to them was because of her. Abbi Mena was hurt, and Leon was dead. Granted, Hector had a hand in things. He was running cocaine through their avocado trucks, and from what her husband had told her, Benito manipulated the events so the younger Alcantara would owe him. Carillo used the pictures of Migs and his uncle to further tip Hector into betraying his family.

  “You ready?” Migs asked.

  She tried her best to put on a brave smile despite the uncertainties spinning inside her. Ariana was no stranger to rejection, but there was a difference between her situation before and what it was now. Miguel. This kidnapping had shown how devoted he was to her. She could feel his anguish when he saw her on the hospital bed being used as a specimen.

  “Ready when you are.” This time her smile was more natural. The door opened and the clam shell steps unfolded. Faces of the Alcantara-Walker family greeted her—Drew, Delia, Bella, and Tessa who had Gigi in her arms. Faces that erased doubt of her place in their family. Smiles and tears mingled, but as she and Migs emerged from the plane, they rushed toward them, embracing her first with welcoming arms.

  Acceptance.

  “Ariana, mija” Delia cried. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

  Emotions and garbled words were exchanged. Tessa and Bella called her querida hermana over and over. Their beloved sister.

  Migs reclaimed h
er from them and said they needed to pass through customs. Which would have been a problem because they didn’t have their passports, but Nadia worked her magic and sent the paperwork over and all was well.

  As soon as she got into the familiar SUV of the Alcantaras, Ariana’s body gave into exhaustion and she fell asleep.

  “Let her sleep. Don’t wake her.” It was Abbi Mena’s voice.

  “Abuelita, should you be up?” Miguel asked.

  “She’s been stubborn,” Lettie’s irritated tone had her smiling.

  “Quiet. Ariana is tired,” Abbi Mena said. “All your talking is disturbing her.”

  “I’m taking her to our room,” her husband said.

  “I’m glad you gave her the ring, Miguel,” his grandmother whispered.

  “It was time.”

  There was light streaming through the windows when Ariana woke up to the familiar surroundings of their bedroom. They arrived in San Diego late the night before. Or was that in the early hours of the morning?

  She blinked and noticed that Miguel’s side had been slept in. A smile touched her lips.

  They were home.

  She stretched, wincing slightly at the odd aches and pains due to a long journey. The sluggishness.

  She sat up and the blanket fell away, revealing her own clothes. Soft pajamas, not the scratchy hospital scrubs or the ill-fitting clothes she wore at the hacienda and during their trip home.

  Her own clothes. She gingerly swung her legs to the floor. And right there were her slippers.

  Her own footwear.

  Home.

  Ariana checked the clock and was surprised it was already eight in the morning. The ranch should be awake …well, except for Bella. She remembered her first morning in this house. She could use some coffee, and, boy, was she starving.

  Looking forward to having breakfast with Miguel’s family, she quickly showered and changed into thin sweats, and decided to wear her slides that had air-cushion soles. That would be easy on her poor feet. She followed the aroma of coffee and toasted bread, strolling through the portico that joined the wings of the house. Abbi Mena’s garden was in full bloom and she felt bad that the older woman would not enjoy her fields of vegetables this summer.

  The strange atmosphere hit her before she entered the kitchen.

  She heard crying.

  Ariana paused at the entrance to the heart of the home and took in the heartbreaking tableau.

  Migs was standing, head bowed, hands gripping the back of a chair. Abbi Mena was sitting at the center of the table which was unlike the usual dynamo she was in the kitchen but, given her injury, that was understandable. No, it was seeing the indomitable matriarch of the Alcantara family looking so broken, sobbing and dabbing at her eyes furiously with a paper towel.

  Migs’ sisters sat stunned—Tessa, Lettie, and Bella, who was surprisingly already awake at this time. Pat and Cora were nowhere in sight. Ariana had an idea what Migs had told them. Drew and Delia were at one corner of the table, staring blankly at their plates—her husband’s mother was quietly crying.

  He’d told them about Don Pepito.

  More than one pair of eyes flew in her direction and she froze, unsure whether to proceed into the kitchen or not. Migs turned to her, smiled sadly, but held out his hand. “Come, babe.”

  “I’ll get you coffee,” Delia rose, but Ariana waved her off. “I can get it, you all continue to talk.” She asked if anyone needed a refill, but she was met with a shaking of heads.

  There also wasn’t much talking, just sobbing.

  Finally, Abbi Mena said, “I always wondered what happened to Pepito. I suspected he was in trouble. A mother knows these things.”

  “I’m sorry, abuelita,” Migs said. Ariana had her back to them, and she took her time pouring herself coffee as tears stung her eyes. How difficult this must be for Migs. To unburden his guilt over and over.

  She composed herself; her husband needed her. Making her way back to the table, she took her seat and tried to pull him down in the one next to her, but he gave one shake of his head. Did he feel he wasn’t worthy of his family any longer? If her heart was breaking, his must be shattered.

  Abbi Mena got to her feet. “I’m not angry at you, Miguelito. But here”—she clutched her chest with her good hand—“I feel your pain. But I cannot say it doesn’t hurt to look at you. I need to be alone.” She pushed back from her chair and shuffled around the table. Lettie rose to aid her, but she waved the help away. “I can manage.” A couple of steps away she glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t waste the food. Doesn’t mean because I cannot eat, you shouldn’t either. Ustedes coman. Eat.”

  Ariana stared at her plate, her mouth twitching with the odd desire to giggle at this very inappropriate time. She glanced up and saw Lettie and Bella doing the same, fighting back laughter. Their eyes met and they all couldn’t help the puff of laughter that escaped their lips.

  “Your abuelita will be fine,” Delia told her son. “She just needs to be alone.”

  She glanced up at Migs. His head was still bowed, a muscle working his jaw overtime. Then he walked away from them and exited the kitchen into the patio, moving to its far edge and stared out into the field of corn.

  She rose from her chair to go to him.

  “Leave him,” Delia said. “He needs his space to think.”

  “No,” Ariana told his mother. “I’m his wife. He needs me.”

  Her mother-in-law smiled faintly and gave a brief nod. “You’re right. Go to him.”

  Ariana approached her husband and put a hand on his shoulder. “Migs.” He twisted toward her and snagged her into his arms, clutching her tight as if she was a lifeline. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed her name. “Ari …”

  The way her name caught at his throat, the way his body shuddered against hers, threatened to spill emotions from her eyes, but she held them back. That was all she could do, be his anchor in his storm.

  “The way Abbi Mena looked at me,” he said hoarsely. “It was as if I shot her through the heart.”

  “Oh Miguel.” She drew back and cupped his jaw. His eyes were red, and she wanted to erase the anguish etched into his features. “She was surprised. She didn’t know how to react, but I did not see condemnation on her face. She knows you’re hurting, and I think that’s why she said she couldn’t look at you.”

  “You’re trying to make me feel better, babe, and I appreciate that—”

  “That’s not true. Don’t be condescending when I’m telling you the truth of what I saw.” She squeezed his jaw to make a point.

  “I thought it would be easier to tell her.”

  “Than Joaquín?”

  He nodded.

  “I think because he already had time to stew over the pictures,” Ariana said. “With Abbi Mena, it was a total surprise. She had to relive the pain of your uncle’s death.”

  “At least she’s not left wondering anymore,” Lettie said from their sides. Ariana lowered her arms and they both turned to see his three sisters standing there.

  Drew stood behind his daughters. “Your Mamá went to check on Abbi Mena.”

  “I catch her sometimes,” Lettie continued. “Staring into space and on her lap is Tio Pepito’s picture. I remember that one time she said the hardest part was not knowing why he was senselessly killed. What did he do? She asked. She suspected Joaquín was keeping something from her, to protect her. She knew Tio Pepito wasn’t all on the straight and narrow.” At Migs’ face, his sister added, “No, I’m not trying to make you feel better either.”

  “Were you three eavesdropping?” he asked, but there was a smile to his voice.

  “Maybe,” Bella said and took a step forward. “So, what, bro? You never admitted it, but are you CIA?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Bella,” Lettie scolded. “You think Migs would tell us if he were?”

  Bella looked at Ariana. “I bet she knows.”

  Ariana laughed.

  “See, that laugh is
an admission,” Bella persisted.

  Migs lowered his mouth by her ear and whispered, “You’d make a terrible agent.”

  She pulled back and pushed him forward. “Go. They need to hug their brother.”

  Her husband took two steps forward and opened his arms. Bella stepped into him first and then Lettie. Tessa was teary eyed, and with Gigi in her arms, she joined the huddle and somehow Migs was able to embrace them all.

  Delia quietly joined Ariana at her side. “Mami is okay. Everything will be fine.” Drew picked up his wife’s hand and she leaned into his chest as they watched their children. His mother glanced at her. “I told you this the first day Migs brought you here and I will say it again. Thank you for bringing my son home.”

  Migs straightened the fencing along the west side of the ranch. Strong winds had knocked them down and they hadn’t been repaired.

  It had always been Leon’s job.

  A sadness twisted a muscle in his chest as he remembered their family friend and security chief. Although Leon’s responsibility was mainly the warehouse, he was on top of what the ranch needed from fencing to surveillance to personnel. Right now, Cesar was double-timing at security and was going to interview Leon’s replacement soon.

  The man at the guardhouse and the few who were patrolling the ranch were not familiar to him. He tossed the broken fence board to the ground and observed his handiwork. How ironic that he was mending fences as the ones in his own life were splintering.

  A scraping of footsteps on the ground had him squaring his shoulders. He recognized the gait and waited for the person to speak.

  “It’s strange to see you fixing that and not Leon,” Abbi Mena said behind him.

  Migs rose to his feet and grabbed the Stetson from his head to flick the dirt from his jeans before turning to his grandmother. He kept his eyes on the hat, rimming it with his fingers. “I’ve helped him before.” He cleared his throat and lifted his gaze, reluctant to see the look in her eyes. There was a sadness in them, but he was relieved the pain wasn’t as stark as it had been this morning.