Darkness Embraced (Hades Hangmen 7)

by Tillie Cole

  “Where exactly is she in the warehouse?” I pushed my hand through my hair. “So I know where to point the cameras.”

  Tank stepped closer to me. “When you’re in there, don’t mention shit about Adelita. Right? Keep quiet. Don’t piss Styx off. We’ll work out a way to get Adelita. Now ain’t the time.”

  I nodded and went into the warehouse. Bull showed me where he’d dumped the stuff, then left to stand guard with Tank. Tank had warned me . . . but I didn’t fucking intend to keep my mouth shut. I needed to know about Lita.

  The three prospects were standing outside the small room I knew the cousin was in. I tipped my chin to them. Slash and Zane came over. “Bull told us to help you,” Slash said.

  I tore my eyes away from the closed door of the back room. “Good.” I cleared my throat. “We’ll start over here. I show you one, then y’all can split up and do some of the others.” I led them to the far side of the warehouse. Ten minutes later I was installing the first camera, talking them through it, while Slash held the ladder I was on.

  “You learned all this in the army, right?” Slash asked.

  I looked down at the kid. He looked like Smiler. I knew he was Smiler’s cousin, around nineteen. Didn’t know more of his story than that. “Yeah, communications.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Been thinking about the army too. Smiler thinks I shouldn’t bother. Just work on bikes and stay with the Hangmen.”

  “My uncle said the same,” Zane, AK’s nephew, said. I watched the kid as he ducked his head and looked away. Because it wasn’t just AK who had served. It had been his old man too. The guy who, because of a fucked-up mission that led to his kidnapping and a truckload of PTSD, killed Zane’s mom and then himself. Kid was raised by his aunt, fucking orphaned.

  When I got off the ladder, I said, “I served because my old man told me it was my patriotic duty.” Zane put his hands in his pockets, but both he and Slash listened. “I learned a lot in the army. But I’ll tell you now, kids. Don’t go into war unless you fucking believe in the cause you’re fighting for.”

  “Like now, you mean?” Slash asked. “This war we’re in now with the cartel and the Klan.” Slash’s eyes widened. “I mean, you . . . them . . .”

  I put my hand on Slash’s shoulder. “It’s all good, kid. I know it’s fucked up with me and the Klan.”

  “But you’re a Hangman now, right?” Zane asked. I smirked, seeing a mini AK staring back at me.

  “I am.” I let my eyes drift to the door of the back room again.

  “She’s fucking loud,” Slash said, running his hands through his hair. “Bitch hasn’t stopped shouting in hours. I got a fucking headache.”

  “She’s quiet now,” I said.

  “Beauty probably muzzled her.” Ash stood off the door, smirking as he finished his smoke and tossed it to the floor. “My fucking ears hurt from all the noise. I need a fucking drink.”

  Turning to Zane and Slash, I said, “You saw how I installed that last camera?” They nodded. “Go do the same in the other rooms.” I turned to Ash. “You go too. I gotta get these cameras up fast. They’ll show you how.”

  “Good luck.” Ash followed his brothers to the far-off room. Taking hold of a camera, I knocked on the door.

  Beauty answered. She looked flustered, but when she saw me she painted on her smile. “Hey, darlin’,” she said, holding the door ajar. “You here to set the camera up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Then I’m taking a break. I need a fucking drink. Watch her while you work—she’s one feisty bitch. I usually respect that in a woman, but right now I wanna punch my fist into her teeth just so her mouth’s too full to keep screaming. She’s working my last nerve.” She smiled wider. “I won’t be long!” Beauty walked out of the warehouse.

  The door was open, but the room inside was dark. Taking a long breath, I pushed through the door. The back room was small, with only a dim lamp as the light. But I saw the cousin in the corner, covered in shadows. Her head was down, and her dark hair was blanketing her face. Her hands were tied with rope, as were her feet. The wedding dress she wore covered most of her body. I squinted, trying to make her out, but in this dim light, it was impossible.

  Checking no one was in the main body of the warehouse, I shut the door and bolted it. My hand tightened on the knob, but then I manned the fuck up and turned. I walked straight to the bitch in the chair, and she must have sensed me, because she lashed out with her bound legs and spat, “Cabrones! Los odio!”

  Her head snapped back as she thrashed to get near me. I stood my ground, waiting for her to calm the fuck down and stop. Her long dark hair flew back off her face, her mouth opened to spew more shit my way, then her eyes locked on mine and . . .

  I froze.

  Couldn’t fucking move.

  Every cell in my body went rigid. I wasn’t even fucking breathing.

  My heart started smashing against my ribs, and my muscles tensed until I thought they might snap. And I never moved my attention from those eyes. Dark brown eyes, long-as-fuck lashes, and those lips . . . those fucking full, perfect lips.

  My chest squeezed my lungs like an iron fist, and my damn hands started to shake . . . because I didn’t trust my eyes. Didn’t fucking trust myself to believe who sat before me.

  Her eyes widened, and I watched as her face drained of blood. She blinked like she couldn’t believe it either, then her eyes filled with tears . . .

  “Tanner?” she whispered in disbelief. I had to shut my eyes as the sound of her voice hit my ears. “No . . . it can’t be . . .” she cried. My breathing and heart synced to one beat, both of them drumming in my ears. Opening my eyes, I shook my head. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her . . .

  “Ad . . . Adelita?”

  The rasp of her name off my lips filled up every inch of the silent room like a thick smoke. Her eyes closed, and a tear fell down her cheek.

  Then I looked at her . . . really fucking looked at her, and shit filtered through.

  She was in a wedding dress. The shock that had kept me in its chokehold started to fade. And like hot blood off a sharpened knife, the shock, the fucking relief that it was Adelita sitting before me, melted away . . . and in its place came confusion, disbelief . . . then anger. Red-hot fucking anger. Because it hadn’t been Adelita’s cousin who was getting married . . . it had been her.

  “Tanner?” Adelita’s voice was shaking and quiet and just as perfect as I remembered. But that sweetness wasn’t enough to dilute the bitter taste that was building on my tongue.

  I met her eyes, those eyes that had once promised me in return everything that I had promised her. The eyes that told me to trust her like she would me. That she’d wait for me while I figured out a way for us to be together. While I fucking left and tried to work out a way for us to escape all the shit that kept us apart.

  All this time. All these months of planning and scheming for a way to leave my family, to leave the Klan unscathed, protected by someone stronger and more powerful. To prove my worth to the Hangmen so they would take me on as one of their own . . . all for her. All for this bitch who had upturned my life and fucking changed me, made me want nothing but her. All so we could be together and escape our fucking families that would never let us—would rather see us dead.

  As I looked at the woman I loved, the one who had governed my life since the first time I laid eyes on her, all I felt was a fucking thunderstorm of rage, filling my muscles and bones down to their cores. The rage I used to wear every fucking day, the rage I’d learned to control for her, started to break free . . . and I did nothing to fucking stop it. I did nothing to hold it back. Instead I let it flood me, my veins bursting with the darkness that had always lived inside me, put there by my old man and the Klan and all the fucking hatred and venom I was infected with as a kid. And I fucking embraced it.

  No deep breath was working. Nothing was gonna stop this. As I looked at that wedding dress, at the white lace covering her arms—arms that ha
d held on to me as she’d promised to someday be my fucking wife—I fucking snapped.

  “It was you,” I snarled. My fists clenched so tight I knew they’d draw blood as Adelita’s rose scent filled my nose. That scent I’d dreamed of for two years. The scent I remembered every time I lay in bed. The scent I kept with me all this time. “It was fucking you getting married!” I didn’t phrase it as a question. I didn’t have to. She sat in front of me in a motherfucking wedding dress.

  Adelita’s eyes said it all. The guilt was written all over her face. She’d betrayed me. Betrayed us. Her mouth opened, but I didn’t hear what she had to say. I didn’t even know if she actually spoke. My brain shut her out, drowning in the thick fog I was letting in. Taking me back to the day I returned to Mexico. The day I threw everything away. The day I set all this in motion.

  The day the White Prince voluntarily fell from his fucking throne . . .

  *****

  “Only a few more trips like this, Tanner, and we’ll be done,” my father said as we pulled through the gates of the Quintana hacienda. My eyes were fixed on the guards that surrounded the place, just like last time. I tried to focus on them, on what my father was telling me. But my fucking sick head went to only one place.

  Adelita fucking Quintana.

  Two months. I’d been gone for two months. Two months of being back with my people, my family. I’d fucked pure WASP sluts, trying to remember who the fuck I was. Two months of taking down enemies and burning the fiery cross.

  And two months of trying to rid myself of the shame that I’d fucked Quintana’s daughter. And two months to school myself for this moment. The moment I saw her again.

  I had to stay the fuck away.

  The car stopped and we were led into the hacienda. My hands were balled at my sides as I kept my face staring straight forward. When we arrived at Quintana’s private quarters, I sat down next to my father, then Quintana came into the room. “Gentlemen,” he said in his fucking thick accent. Adelita didn’t speak like he did. Daddy had clearly educated his daughter better than he had been.

  I got to my feet and shook his hand. My father and Quintana started making small talk that I quickly zoned out of. I glanced around at the art in Quintana’s office. It was shitty. Too-bright colors that made fuck-all sense . . . until my eyes fell on a painting above his desk. Brown eyes that had been burned into my skull stared back at me. And just like I remembered, they fucking taunted me with a superior glare. Challenged me to take her on.

  Told me to take her pussy again.

  “Tanner?” My father’s harsh voice pulled me from my head. I looked at him. “We’ll join Alfonso soon for dinner. Yes?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said and got to my feet after my father.

  As I walked to the suite I stayed in last time, I scanned the hallways, but there was no sign of Adelita. Her rooms were around here, I knew. My skin prickled as if it could sense her close. I hoped I wouldn’t see her the whole time I was here. Prayed she was out of town, so I could get in and out of this shithole without casting one glance her way.

  I showered and changed for dinner. I never once stopped moving; I paced my room until it was time to go. I couldn’t turn off my fucking head. I banged my fist against my skull just to take the memory of Adelita falling apart under me from my thoughts. Of realizing I’d just taken her virginity. Of how she slapped me, fought me, then kissed me like she couldn’t stand not to.

  There was a knock on the door. My father stood there in a suit. His eyes ran over my slacks, fitted white button-down shirt, and black tie. But they fixed on the full-body tattoos that crept out from the collar and cuffs of my shirt. His lip lifted in disgust. Mine curled in victory. It was the one thing in my life I’d done against his wishes. Fucker had made me pay for it with my flesh. But it had been worth it to see his perfectly groomed heir no longer the all-American boy he wanted me to be. “True Klansmen are invisible, Tanner. They don’t wear their beliefs on their skins like heathens.” His message had been drummed into my head all my life. But when Tank left the Klan, I left the army, I spiraled, and I did exactly what the great Governor Ayers hadn’t wanted me to do.

  It was the best decision I’d ever made. I wasn’t meant for political office like my pop. I was meant for war and violence. For blood and guns and glory.

  I was created for the darkness.

  “Let’s go.” My father led us to the veranda where dinner would be served. He leaned in close. “Keep your mouth shut. I’ll do the talking.” It was fine by me. I was useless here anyway. He had no intention of cluing me in on the contract he was building with Quintana. I was here for fucking show. And as witness.

  Quintana was waiting at the table. We had only just been given drinks and directed to our seats by a maid when Quintana broke into a smile and stood from his place at the head of the table. I kept my eyes forward, I knew who had just arrived.

  “Tanner, you remember my daughter, Adela.”

  Clenching my jaw, I stood and reluctantly lifted my gaze to Adelita. Her brown eyes locked on mine, and I immediately saw something flare inside them.

  Then my eyes fell to the man standing beside her. The man whose arm she was on. “And this is Diego,” Quintana said. “He’s my second.” Quintana looked at my father. “He will be joining us tomorrow as discussed. He’ll be heading the project with me.”

  Anger burst inside me. My father saw it in my face; I knew it. I also knew he thought it was at being excluded from his meetings when this motherfucker was going to be there. But he was wrong. He was fucking dead wrong. My fury came from this dick’s arm holding Adelita’s.

  “Señor Ayers.” Diego smiled at me. Keeping Adelita’s arm in his, he held out his free hand. I shook it and felt the effort behind the strength of his grip. I’d crush this fucker into pieces given half a chance. Fuck up his perfectly slicked back hair and three-thousand-dollar suit.

  “Let’s sit, shall we?” Quintana said.

  I did as he said, then stared down at my plate. I fucking forced myself to. But when Adelita said, “Did you have a good trip back to Mexico, Tanner?” I lifted my eyes and they locked on hers.

  She smiled, but I could see her nerves underneath. I watched her throat work as she swallowed, her eyes dropping down to my chest. That fucking did something to me inside. Lit me the fuck up. I made her nervous. I’d gotten to her. I wondered if she was thinking what I was right now. If she was remembering me pushing her against the wall in the safe house, my hand on her throat. If she was remembering her mouth on mine, her teeth sinking into my flesh.

  If she remembered me inside her, making her scream.

  When my cock hardened, I let anger push it the fuck back down. I didn’t want this bitch. I didn’t want her anywhere near me. I had to remember that.

  “Adelita asked you a question.” My eyes snapped to Diego beside her. The fucker, sitting there with his three-piece suit and his pissant dark eyes, was glaring at me. My neck tightened as I fought the urge to dive for the asshole and teach him some fucking manners.

  I caught my father’s stony expression and turned to Adelita. “It was fine.”

  When everyone had started eating, I looked up at Diego to see him watching me. I met his stare and let him know with my fucking eyes that I hated his spic ass on sight. And promised him that if I ever got the chance, I would fucking end him.

  Diego looked away when Quintana asked him a question. But my attention was on his hand as he reached out and laid it over Adelita’s on the table. Fire surged through my veins. I shifted in my seat, ready to fuck up this deal and tear the fucker limb from limb. But Adelita pulled her hand from under his and tucked it under the table.

  Her eyes flashed to mine, then focused again on her father. The perfect cartel princess never dropping her polished façade. Diego’s face was stone, but I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was pissed.

  Then I swallowed down my own anger. Because I didn’t care if he fucked her on this table in front of us all
. I didn’t care if the asshole had had her after me. She wasn’t mine, and I was never touching her again.

  *****

  I stared at the door and wondered—for the hundredth time—what the fuck I was doing here. My nails cut into my palms as my fists curled. My traps were pulled so tightly my neck ached. And as I looked around the hallway, I knew I had less than thirty seconds before a guard would be along. The army had taught me many things. I was thankful that one of them was how to sneak past patrols.

  Or maybe I wasn’t. Because if I hadn’t learned how to be stealth, I wouldn’t be here right now—a fucking betrayer of my race.

  The pin I held in my hand became a burning flame. I closed my eyes, fucking willed myself to leave. But when I heard the distant sound of guards down the hall, I let my body lead. In seconds, I’d picked the lock with the pin and I was in Adelita’s room. The smell of roses hit my nose first. My jaw clenched, but my feet carried me to another set of doors. I picked the lock on those too and slipped through.

  The room was dark but for a small bedside lamp. Adelita lay on the bed, dressed in a white silk nightgown that showed her bare arms and calves and feet. The material stuck to her body like glue. Her fucking perfect body. A body my hands remembered exploring every inch of.

  The floor creaked beneath my foot. Adelita sat up, and her gaze collided with mine. I stayed stock still, my hands again balled into fists.

  Adelita’s eyes were wide. But she stayed silent. My breathing echoed in my ears. I should turn and leave. I should have. My dick had hardened the minute I saw her. I was fucking up by being here. I knew I was.

  Yet my feet didn’t move.

  Adelita stood. I watched every move she made, my breathing coming faster. I saw her fighting for breath too. Her tits rose and fell under her silk nightdress. She was just a couple of feet from me now. I could smell the familiar scent of coconut from her hair, and I could see her bare face. She had no makeup on, and her hair was loose and unstyled, falling down to the middle of her back.