Blurred Red Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel

by Kenborn, Cora

  And I’d be plotting my next move.

  With my keys firmly planted in my hand, I stomped to the driver’s side of my car. I’d just moved my thumb to press the button on the keyless entry when a rough hand snaked around my cheek and covered my mouth. Shocked, I tried to scream, but the pressure on my lips stifled any sound.

  A familiar voice, muffled by my own jerky movements, hovered over my ear. “Stop fighting and it’ll be over soon.”

  The words seeped into my mind, and my heart pounded.

  It’ll be over soon.

  I’d stayed here too long. They’d found me.

  I had to make noise. I had to scream. The neighbors had to wake up. They’d come outside to investigate if they could just hear me. Inhaling hard, I mustered what little voice I could get out and squeaked a pathetic plea for help.

  The gravelly voice behind me slithered in my ear once more. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll do what I have to.”

  His overbearing weight lifted me off my feet, and I caught a strong metallic scent as he held me against him.

  Blood.

  My stomach roiled at the all too recognizable stench as I struggled harder, throwing elbows and trying to use my feet and legs to kick him. I’d almost gotten leverage when a sharp sting in my neck sent a seeping warmth through my skin and a thick haze across my vision. The world swam and a black cloud overtook the morning light until nothing remained but hollow silence and a cold darkness.

  Chapter Twelve

  EDEN

  The room smelled of mildew and damp rain. I blinked to focus in the darkness, but even squinting, I couldn’t make out the form sitting in front of me. Confusion set in as I tried to replay the events that led me to this dank hole, but my mind blanked. A fuzzy film coated my memory, prohibiting clarity.

  “Don’t be scared, Cherry.”

  My heart slammed against my chest. “Nash?” I couldn’t remember why it hurt to hear his voice, but the slow cadence of his words tore a jagged hole in my heart. “Where are we? Why can’t I see you?”

  A low rumble of laughter filled the room. “You’re feeling better. Already with the rapid-fire questions, I see.”

  I rubbed my neck where a stinging burned my skin. “What happened?”

  “This isn’t your fight, Cherry. You’re going to get hurt. There’s no game here. It’s real.”

  Frustrated, I tried to move, but my limbs felt stuck in quicksand. “Why can’t I see you?”

  “Listen to me,” he instructed with a serious voice. “There’s two sides to everything, and the key is in the middle. The guard will be your downfall.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I love you. Be strong and keep your eyes open.”

  His words finally broke through my muddled brain. “No! Don’t leave me!”

  Now barely a mist, his voice echoed in my ears over and over. “Wake up, Eden.”

  “Don’t go!” Throwing myself forward, I landed on the hard, concrete floor, busting my lip and tasting blood.

  His voice continued to echo in the small room.

  Wake up, Eden.

  Wake up, Eden.

  “Wake up, Eden.”

  My head turned as my brother’s voice took on a distinct Latino accent. “Wake up, Eden.”

  Worlds collided as the voice became louder. More blood filled my mouth, and I gagged as I swallowed it to breathe.

  “Wake the fuck up, Eden.”

  Brightness burned my eyes the minute they cracked open. My body felt heavy as if I’d been asleep for days. Focusing on the voice, I turned my cheek from the hard floor toward his face, fighting the urge to fade back into darkness. His form seemed familiar as he crouched down beside me. I realized I was lying on the floor, but my arm ached beyond reason. One shift of my eyes, and I knew why.

  My left wrist was handcuffed to the base of a rusty iron bed.

  Suddenly wide awake, I frantically jerked on my restraints while fear crept inside of my panicked thoughts. My bare heels scraped the cold concrete as I pushed away from him, crowding against the white sheets hanging off the side of the bed.

  “Welcome back, Eden. You’ve been out since yesterday. You were starting to worry me.”

  My name. He kept calling me by name. I closed my eyes, recalling a memory from outside my father’s house.

  Someone said my name beside my car.

  With blurred eyes, my lips cracked as I fought for my voice. “What…” I cleared my throat, my tone hoarse and rough. “What am I doing here? What do you want?”

  The man’s outline moved closer. Crouching down, he reached out a finger and wiped it across my chin. I drew back, stiffening for a blow that never came.

  “Relax,” he said, wiping dark liquid from his hand onto his jeans. “You busted your lip when you fell. I told you if you calm down, we won’t hurt you.”

  My body may have been restrained, but my antagonistic nature couldn’t be. “Well, if you uncuff me, we’ll be sure both of those things will happen, won’t we?”

  Dark eyes blazed with annoyance and mild respect. “You’re one of a kind, Eden O’Dell.”

  I stiffened. “What did you just call me?”

  Only one man called me by my married name.

  He sighed heavily, and my vision finally cleared, adjusting to the dim light silhouetting his face. My head pounded, and dozens of spots plastered my vision. The fear that should have had me cowering under the bed hid behind an avalanche of rage and launched my body forward. Within inches of his chest, my wrist restraint jerked me backward and I banged my head against the iron railing of the bed.

  Trapped, I let out a primal scream, yanking on my restraint again. “Murderer!” Nash’s vacant eyes filled my head, and I shook it violently, desperate to rid it of the image.

  “Whoa, cálmete!” he bellowed, raising a hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Fuck you!” I spat, throwing myself at him again. The cuff dug into my wrist, and I winced as it sliced my skin. Pain shot down my arm, but with adrenaline pumping, it only fueled my anger. “I saw you! I watched you cut my brother’s fingers off. You walked out and sent those bastards in to finish him.”

  I continued battling against the restraint, blood pouring down my arm. My boss, the man I trusted completely, lifted off his heels and grabbed me by the shoulders, pinning me against the bedframe.

  “Would you calm the hell down?” Emilio moved one arm and braced it horizontally against my upper chest while holding my wrist immobile with the other. “I didn’t kill anyone. And what the hell are you talking about? Who’s your brother?”

  Unable to move and weakened with fading energy, my head wobbled on my shoulders as I lowered my forehead against his. “Nash Lachey, you asshole.”

  His face blanched. “Your name is O’Dell.”

  “You’re a shitty businessman, Emilio,” I taunted. “Do you always take everything at face value?”

  The lines around his mouth deepened as his eyes narrowed inches from mine. His body leaned forward while his hold on my wrist tightened. I could see the confusion melt into irritation.

  A wise woman would shut her mouth. I’d never been particularly wise.

  “O’Dell was my married name. My name is Lachey. I was in the kitchen at Caliente.” A dark glaze blackened his already coal eyes. “I saw everything.”

  The confession wasn’t smart by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it gave him every reason to kill me right there. I braced for it. I expected it.

  But I’d never back down from it.

  Nash left this world protecting me, and I’d be damned if I’d beg his tormentor for anything.

  “I could’ve left you there.”

  I pulled on my bleeding arm again. “Because this is so much fucking better!”

  Angered, he shook me, my head slamming against the bedrail. “You have no idea what was coming for you, do you, Eden Lachey?” He said my name with such contempt, I ins
tinctively recoiled. “Being cuffed to a bed is a goddamn vacation compared to what waited behind me.”

  Emilio’s anger overtook him. He’d all but climbed on top of me, pushing his face against mine, and barking words with disgust as sweat dripped from his chin onto my blood-caked skin. My chest heaved with terror, but only my widened eyes displayed any emotion to his aggression. His hand released my wrist and fisted the back of my hair, lifting my face. Warm breath faintly reeking of alcohol filled my nostrils.

  The threat of being killed spurred venom inside of me. Fear sat back and let vengeance ride shotgun. I twisted, desperate to get away from him, but his hold tightened.

  A door slammed and an angry voice shouted behind him. “What the hell is this?”

  Emilio stiffened, his furious glare becoming submissive. “She was out of control.”

  “Get your hands off her. Now!” the man growled.

  Winking, Emilio released his hold and stood up. “Try to behave, Eden Lachey, and you might make it out of here.”

  As he walked away, I released the breath I’d held and sank to the floor.

  “Lachey? Your name is Lachey?”

  My head snapped up. With one glance, my breathing became erratic, and my thoughts went haywire. Chocolate brown eyes flecked with gold stared back at me. Taking in my bloodied wrist, his own hands tightened into fists by his side.

  “Val?” It made no sense, but the relief at seeing him outweighed my need for logic. He appeared as a contrast of darkened danger dressed in black slacks and an angelic white button-up shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

  His jaw ticked as he spoke slow and deadly. “What did he do to you?”

  I relived the last few moments and shook my head. “Nothing. I got angry.”

  “I saw him on top of you, Cereza.” He shifted forward, and his face hardened. “If he touched you…”

  “He didn’t,” I assured him.

  Val glanced toward the closed door then knelt next to me, crooking a finger and running it down my cheek. Inexplicitly, I leaned into his touch. In the quiet moment, I almost forgot where I was and why. Without thinking, my free hand grabbed his and held it steady against my face.

  “We have to get out of here.”

  “Cereza…”

  “Listen to me. You don’t understand.” My voice rose, distraught at his calmness. “I was drugged and brought here against my will. Emilio, that man that was here,” I pointed toward the closed door, “he’s my boss. He helped kill my brother. I was there.” The words fell out at rapid succession, desperate for his help. “I don’t know everything, but I think I heard the name Carrera. I know they’re a drug cartel. My brother isn’t an addict, Val. They fucked up, but I think I’ve got enough to go to the police.”

  “Cereza…” He lowered his head with a blank expression.

  “Stop saying that and listen,” I yelled, frantic and growing hysterical. “We have to get out of here. You have to find a key. We’re not safe.”

  He remained quiet, pulling his hand away, with a tormented mask painted across his face. I could see his mind working, but mine refused to piece the unconnected puzzle together. His brows furrowed, and the deep line that etched between them severed my hope.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let you go.”

  I splayed my hands against the cold metal of the bed. “Why…why can’t you? I don’t understand.” He had to be here to help me, but there was an uncertain air around him I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “You’re a danger to me and to yourself.” Val rocked back on his heels, running a tanned hand across his full lips. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten into, and because of that, I can’t trust you.”

  I’m a danger to him? To him?

  Just as quickly as the fear had come, it exited, replaced by fury and understanding. “You can’t trust me?” I clenched my hand and pressed it against my forehead. “Who’s chained like a dog, here?”

  Val’s eyes hardened, and I waited for rage to follow. Instead, his lip twitched, lifting into a one-sided smirk. “You’re bleeding pretty bad.”

  “Oh? I hadn’t noticed,” I sneered, narrowing my eyes.

  “That mouth, Cereza…it’s going to get you into trouble one day.” Reaching for the buttons on his shirt, he opened them one by one. My eyes watched, fascinated, as he removed the shirt, revealing smooth bronzed skin covering a hard, toned chest marked with more tattoos.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I wet my dry lips, unable to look away.

  He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Cleaning your arm and stopping the bleeding before infection sets in. I assume you value your limbs.”

  “I highly doubt your shirt will stop gangrene.”

  Trailing his hand across my bloodstained skin, he scowled. “It may scar, but it won’t be too deep.” He finished cleaning the fresh blood and wrapped the shirt around the wound, tying it off. “How do you feel?”

  “How do you think? I’ve been drugged, dragged, dropped, and sliced up. I fucking hurt.”

  Val ran his hand through his tousled hair, and his face turned an angry red color at my contempt. “I can’t give you anything for the pain until the drugs Emilio injected are out of your system.” He glanced at me with a glint in eyes. “That may be a while longer.”

  The world spun around as betrayal thickened the air. Stunned, I looked deep into his eyes for the first time, seeing what his handsome face and sexuality blinded from me since the beginning.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Jesus, you’re one of them.” Pushing away from him, horror filled my vision at the bare-chested god of a monster crouched in front of me.

  “Don’t be so self-righteous,” he whispered, leaning forward and boxing me against the bed once more. “I saved your ass.”

  “What did you give me?” I cringed, turning my chin away from his penetrating gaze.

  “A little M99 combined with sedatives and opioids to counteract the side effects with some diprenorphine afterward to ensure you actually woke up.”

  I cut my eyes at him. “How very serial killer of you. Dexter fan, are we?”

  “You’re very mouthy for a half-naked woman cuffed to a bed.”

  “How the hell did you even get that drug? So, you’re a criminal and a practicing vet?”

  “Ah, Cereza, I do love that mouth, but at this point, I’d suggest you shut it before you cross a line you don’t want to.” The gold flakes in his blackened eyes glittered with an underlying ruthlessness I’d yet to see.

  I jerked on the cuff. “Fuck you.”

  He smiled a wicked grin that lit my skin on fire, infuriating me at my body’s duplicity against my mind. “Not today. But if you cooperate and beg just the right way, who knows what might happen?”

  Every stream of blood in my body pooled south at his seductive words. I closed my eyes, summoning images I’d forced in the dark. “I could never want you.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “What do you want, Cereza?”

  “I want my brother back, you son of a bitch.”

  His lips twitched. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was out regret. But if the last half hour taught me anything, it was that nothing was as it seemed. People I thought were friends were enemies, and no one could be trusted. I was alone to save myself.

  Without thinking, my hand flew to my chest and rubbed the St. Michael medallion. My father raised us Roman Catholic, but other than the required holiday mass and forced attended service, I’d never bought into religion. Maybe my mother walking out right after my birth had something to do with my issues with her God.

  However, sitting in the small, dark room, I found myself repeatedly touching the symbol of the religion I’d turned my back on, hoping the courage and protection my father promised it’d bring would save me.

  Something had to.

  Val watched me with curious eyes. Leaning closer, he raised a hand to my face. Instinctively, I flinched, convinced a blow to my cheek was coming for my in
solence. Gently, his thumb traced a wetness trailing from the corner of my eye down the side of my hairline.

  I hadn’t realized I was crying.

  I’d promised myself I’d stay strong for Nash. Vengeance would be my comfort until I saw his killers suffer. My failure caused more tears to fall. Val’s eyes softened, and before I could stop him, he tilted his mouth and pressed his damp lips where his thumb had been.

  A shudder tore through me as his lips caressed my cheek, then as quickly as they warmed my skin, they were gone. He stood silently and walked toward the door. Mesmerized at the grace of a man who had evil running through his veins, my pulse sped up as I focused on his defined back. The most magnificent and nauseating tattoo spanned the entire width of his back from shoulder to shoulder and the length from his neck to his lower back. Numbers, dead flowers, swords, a demonic-looking bird, along with a lot of Spanish I’d never understand swirled in bright colors and harsh black lines. Without asking, I knew none of it got there on a drunken whim, each needle purposeful and full of meaning. Part of me wanted to know, and the other was afraid to hear the answer.

  Disgust for my lustful thoughts consumed me. How could the man responsible for the torture and murder of the one person who’d protected me my whole life, elicit such a reaction?

  Nash had barely been gone twenty-four hours, and I’d already been disloyal to his memory. With my free hand, I untied his blood-soaked shirt off my cuffed wrist and balled it up.

  “Hey, Danger…”

  Paused at the door, Val glanced over his shoulder and lifted an eyebrow. I threw the shirt, hitting him in the face.

  “Just so you know, I’m getting out of here with or without you.”

  Fisting the shirt, his nostrils flared as he unlocked the door with a key from his pocket and slammed it behind him. I slumped against the bedframe as the lock reengaged.

  My head pounded in pain. My skin still bled. My body shivered with cold. My stomach growled with hunger, and my heart ached with sorrow. The stark reality that this was bigger than what I initially thought sobered me.