Blurred Red Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel

by Kenborn, Cora

  A rock landed in my stomach. “You didn’t get Elliot Lachey hooked on coke.”

  A wicked smile spread across her face. “Didn’t I?”

  “Oh, my God,” Eden croaked, her voice hushed and strained from Manuel’s restrictive hold. “It’s you. You’re the woman from the bar. You were sitting at the end the night Val came in. I remember because…because it was the night Nash was killed.”

  As if on rewind, my mind traveled back to the night at Caliente. Eden had just commented about the news broadcast of Nando’s death when the two drunk assholes made remarks about her that made me want to blow their nuts off. Eden had been making conversation with a lady in the corner with long dark hair…holy fuck.

  “You’re Isabella Diego.” Everything hit me at once.

  “Actually, boss, there’s one more thing.”

  “Make it quick.”

  “One of our new dealers, Isabella, let us know a repeat buyer in Maplewood has put four grams of our shipment up his nose. He’s in for about ten g’s and missed the last two drops…”

  I’d worried one of my high-ranking men had been a leak. Not once did I consider a street-dealing woman would take me down.

  “No, not Isabella.” She pulled her hair to the side and tucked the other behind her ear. “Marisol. Marisol Muñoz.”

  “Muñoz?”

  “Yes, Valentin…Muñoz. As in Manuel’s sister and Esteban’s daughter. I’ve been away for many years while you’ve been in America. Too bad we won’t be getting better acquainted.”

  “Mari! We’ve been here too long. It’s time to finish this and leave.”

  My gaze reverted to Manuel, his hold still firm on Eden. I had no idea if Mateo and Brody were still alive, but I had to stall for time.

  “I thought this was a party, Manuel. Where’s your sense of hospitality? Leaving so soon?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a twisted smile as Manuel pressed the muzzle of his gun against Eden’s temple. Catching my eye, he lowered his lips behind it and blew into her hair. “You always did have an overdeveloped sense of entitlement, Carrera.” The moment his tongue darted out and licked Eden behind the ear, I almost forgot everything and gave in to the rage boiling inside of me. “I see why this one caught your attention, Valentin. Tell me, does she taste as good between her legs as she does behind her ear?”

  “Motherfucker!”

  “Manuel!” My head spun around to face Marisol, her face hot with anger. “We are many things, but you will not speak that way to a woman in front of me. Do you understand?”

  “Fine,” he muttered, lowering his eyes.

  The exchange fascinated me—the tiny, younger sister commanding an iron rule over the much larger and callous older brother. But figuring out their dynamic was at the bottom of my priority list. Manuel still held Eden and showed no signs of letting her go. The fear in her eyes gutted me, and I knew I’d do anything to take it away.

  “So, what do you want me to do with them, your highness?” Manuel shot back, a slight edge of resentment creeping into this voice.

  “Dealer’s choice,” she answered with a wave of her hand. “You’re the muscle in this partnership, not me. I have no stomach for it.” Nodding to one of the guards, she walked away. He moved ahead of her, dutifully opening a side door I hadn’t noticed when entering the room.

  Her brother cocked an eyebrow, his eyes following her every move. “Where are you going?”

  “Guadalajara,” she smiled over her shoulder with one foot out the door. “My work in America is done. Adios, Valentin.” Giving me a wink and pursing her lips in a mock kiss, she left as the lieutenant closed the door behind her.

  Using Eden as a human shield, Manuel turned toward me. “I guess there’s just one thing left to do.”

  “Don’t tell me there’s cake,” I offered with a well-timed smirk.

  Where the hell was Mateo?

  Throwing his head back, Manuel laughed with a roar. “No, but I’ve got a game we can play.” Pulling his gun away from Eden’s temple, he bounced it between her head and my chest, each word he spoke, punctuated by an aim of the muzzle. “Eeny, meenie, minie, moe...”

  The moment his mouth formed the last word, I looked into the barrel of his gun. As I reached for my ankle holster, I heard Eden scream my name, but it melted into ripples of white, hot heat as pain shredded my insides like a warm knife through butter.

  I take that back…sometimes, a man absolutely knows when he’s been shot.

  Chaos ensued around me as multiple shots rang out, and shouting echoed in a warped bubble above my head. One word repeated on my lips as I hit the ground.

  “Eden…”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  BRODY

  “You’ve been shot!”

  Soaked with blood and holding his side with a hard grimace, Mateo still managed to shoot me a disgusted glare out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, and you’re a fucking genius.” Grunting in pain, he waved his gun across the street. “Get in the car.”

  “And leave you here? Have you been hoping for an early death or are you just really masochistic?” Why I stood there instead of hauling my ass inside four panels of reinforced steel remained a mystery to me. What had happened in the last hour to alter everything I held sacred and cause me to jump head first into the inferno between life and death? Six hours ago, I sat in my orderly tenth-floor office where everything made sense and life had order. With one phone call and a snap decision, I’d found myself neck deep in a drug-war stand-off with bullets flying at me from all angles.

  All because two women had found themselves on Manuel Muñoz’s radar. One who had done nothing but love me, and one who had done anything but. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

  Gunshots rang out in the distance, along with angry shouts in clipped Spanish.

  “Shit!” Mateo coughed, blood pooling in the corner of his mouth and trickling down his chin. With another garbled curse, he smeared it across his cheek with the back of his hand while waving his gun at me. “We don’t have time for this. I said get in the car, Brody. I got this.”

  The shouts became closer and more heated as Mateo wheezed and attempted to steady a shaking trigger finger. Boldly rolling my eyes at the second in command of the Houston leg of the Carrera Cartel, I grabbed his wrist and hauled his arm around my shoulder for support.

  “Yeah, you really got this, don’t you? You can barely breathe as it is. Whether you like it or not, lieutenant, you need me, and whether I like it or not, my conscience won’t let me turn my back on you, Eden, or even fucking Carrera. So, how about you stop arguing and try working with me, huh?”

  I expected an argument. When he simply nodded his head around the back of the house where Val had disappeared moments earlier, I raised an eyebrow. Supporting his arm, I stumbled around the corner with Mateo draped over my shoulder. I didn’t take much time to consider why I wasn’t more nervous about what we were doing. If I’d stopped to think about it, I’d realize we were walking into a mass suicide, and the thoughts I’d allow myself would probably be my last. I didn’t have the years of gun handling expertise these men had. They’d avoided taking a bullet to the back of the head their entire lives. My target practice included weekend paintball with my fraternity brothers where I got my ass handed to me.

  “Are you sure about this? My loyalty is with Val. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Mateo dug his feet into the grass, causing us to come to a complete stop. He glanced up, his bloodshot eyes raising from his bowed head, serious and unwavering.

  Steeling my chin, I turned away, the decrepit building in my line of sight. Somewhere inside those mildewed walls, Eden needed me. I was no idiot. I knew I’d lost her to Carrera. For a while, I would’ve fought to have had a chance at something real with her, but I wouldn’t kid myself. A man didn’t fight a Carrera on anything, especially something he considered his. Plus, I knew Cherry better than she knew herself. If she didn’t want to be with him, even the almighty Valentin Carrera coul
dn’t force her into it. Whatever existed between the two of them was something I didn’t stand a chance in breaking.

  And, I had to admit, without Carrera alive and on my side, there was no possibility in protecting Leighton on my own. I needed Manuel Muñoz dead, and for my sister, I’d die trying. I’d be damned if Leighton would pay the price for my choices.

  Removing Mateo’s arm from my shoulder, I steadied him on his feet. “Worry about yourself, lieutenant. I’ve got this.” Plastering a noncommittal smile on my lips, I stalked past him, invisibility the least of my worries as we stood in the middle of a cross fire. I should’ve felt exposed and afraid for my life. Instead, I vibrated with a deep-seated need for a control I’d lacked for months.

  I’d barely taken three steps when a crack broke through the air as loud as thunder and with the raw power of a storm. It reverberated in my ears, ringing out in an echo and shattering the window in front of me as if on auto delay. As a second shot ripped the wood paneling off the house two feet from where I stood, I gripped the gun in my damp palm, turning to either take a lucky shot or face my executioner when a blast exploded beside me.

  Holy shit.

  Reaching down, I ran my hand down my shirt, searching for a gaping wound, or at the very least, splotches of blood that signaled my impending demise. As my fingers scanned the rough fabric, I swallowed as all they encountered was shaking panic and sweat. Before I could rationalize what had happened, or thank God for the fact I was still alive, a third shot rang out, pulling attention toward the man twenty-five feet in front of me whose chest had erupted in a cloud of red. As blood poured from both corners of his mouth, his knees buckled, and he dropped face first to the ground.

  Mateo lowered his smoking gun and turned back to face me. “You okay?”

  “What the hell just happened?”

  “You were showing me how much you’ve got this,” he mocked, displaying a wide grin.

  “You know what,” I argued, throwing my arms wide, “that’s unnecessary. You think you could show a little gratitude for dragging your ass—”

  “My ass?” he interrupted. “I just saved your—”

  A fourth gunshot cut him off mid-sentence, but this one came from inside the house. Neither of us spoke another word as silence surrounded the blast. Not a sound or a scream followed the fire, and I didn’t have to look at Mateo to know we had the same concern.

  Someone was dead.

  Everything inside screamed at me to call out Eden’s name, to have her answer me and know it hadn’t been her on the receiving end of the bullet. I needed to know she was all right. However, survivalist instinct kept my mouth shut and turned my chin back toward Mateo. The look on his face told me he’d fought the same urge to call out to the man he’d sworn his life to protect.

  I was a lawyer. I’d trained my whole life to be pragmatic and weigh both sides of an argument, choosing the best form of attack before going in for the guaranteed kill. But in the silence, practicality gave way to urgency as we both broke into a reckless run toward the back door.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  EDEN

  I screamed his name before Manuel ever pulled the trigger. I counted the rhythm of his words and I knew where the rhyme would end. In a split second, I calculated the amount of time it’d take Val to reach for his ankle holster versus the short distance it took for Manual to straighten his arm and release a bullet.

  He didn’t stand a chance.

  In horror, I watched as Manuel shot Val in the stomach. Angry lines of red erupted below his ribcage and spread up his chest, soaking his shirt. He mumbled my name before he hit the floor, his hand instinctively covering his wound.

  My body shivered, and almost as if I exited it, I looked down on the scene. While observing it from above, the dingy basement morphed into the chrome kitchen at Caliente. In one blink, Val’s thick dark hair suddenly lightened, and one unruly piece flopped into his eyes.

  I’d come full circle. For the second time, I watched my life bleed out in front of me.

  Unable to take the crushing weight of the scene anymore, everything converged, and the kitchen evaporated, leaving me alone in the basement with Manuel Muñoz and his guard. In a fit of desperation and rage, with nothing left to lose, I took advantage of his momentary slackened hold around my neck. Dipping my chin, I sank my teeth into his forearm and bit as hard as I could.

  Letting out a primal howl, Manuel released his hold just enough for me to launch myself at him. With the surprise of my attack, and the sheer force of my will, I knocked him off balance and sent us both sprawling onto the floor. In the scuffle, he dropped the gun, the grip landing a few feet away. I scrambled off him and lunged for it.

  “You fucking bitch!” Manuel clamped a tattooed hand around my ankle, and dragged me backward on my stomach toward his chest. “You’ll pay for that.”

  Movement out of the corner of my eye commanded my attention, but I forced myself to focus on getting the gun. In seconds, blasts erupted, with shouting and erratic flashes of light. Kicking Manuel’s face, I howled through the pain and lunged again. Cursing, he jerked me backward, this time pulling me flush against him

  “Time to be with your boyfriend.” Pulling a knife from his pocket with his free hand, he pressed a button, popping up a six-inch blade, the edge serrated for maximum damage.

  I refused to go out like this. Not without a fight.

  “You first.” Clenching my fist, I put everything I had behind it and landed the hardest punch I’d ever thrown against his nose. A cracking noise preceded a blood volcano spewing from both nostrils.

  Before he could react, I threw myself off him and crawled to the gun, wrapping my fingers around it. Climbing to my knees, and shaking with adrenaline, I pointed it to his head. “It’s over, you bastard.”

  Smiling through reddened teeth, he attempted to sit up. “You don’t have what it takes.”

  “Wrong,” I answered, my voice cold and calm. “All it takes is a lack of humanity. You took that from me when you killed everyone that meant anything to me.” With an accuracy that would’ve made Val proud, I took my revenge on the man who broke my heart twice.

  And then just to be sure, I shot him again.

  “Eden…” Glancing up, I looked into Mateo’s eyes, his brows drawn in concern.

  “You’ve been shot,” I blurted out, the reality of what I’d done starting to sink in. “Why are you standing if you’ve been shot?”

  “Flesh wound,” he answered softly. “Give me the gun, Eden.”

  Suddenly remembering where I was, I glanced around. “The other guard.”

  “Dead.” Mateo assured me.

  Val.

  Dropping the gun, it clanged on the concrete as I crawled on my hands and knees across the room. Blood pooled all around him, and I slipped once, falling onto my side, the sticky warmth coating the length of my body. Pressing my palms into the puddles, I finally reached him, unsure of where to touch him first. He lay motionless, his eyes small slits that seemed transfixed across the room.

  “Blood,” I whispered. “There’s so much blood.” I did the only thing I could think of. I ripped his shirt open to find the source. Reality sobered every moment of the last few days as I cried out, covering him with my hands. A gaping hole to the right of his belly button continually pumped out fresh blood as it seeped between my fingers. “Mateo!” Screaming in sheer panic, I kept one hand on his stomach, while checking his face for signs of breathing with the other. “Mateo, I need you! It won’t stop bleeding. God, I need you, please!”

  As Mateo appeared at my side, pressing his balled-up shirt against Val’s wound, a familiar voice called out from the top of the stairs.

  “A car is on its way.”

  “Brody?” I blinked again to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

  What the actual fuck?

  Flashing a smile, he nodded toward Val’s pale body. “Don’t worry, Cherry. He’ll make it. If not for anything else, but to kick my ass for this…�
�� Raising his voice, he leaned over the railing and cupped his hand around his mouth. “Hey, Carrera, if you die, that means I get Eden, right?”

  “Brody!” If I wasn’t so focused on Val, I’d kick his ass myself.

  Val’s breathing was shallow at best by the time Emilio’s SUV arrived. Lifting Val’s shoulders, Mateo and Brody loaded his motionless body into the back. Unable to have Houston’s assistant district attorney seen with criminals, Brody drove his BMW away from the scene, promising to see to it that the cops on Val’s payroll would never file an official report from the hospital.

  As Mateo climbed in the front seat, I took Val’s face in my hands and dusted a light kiss across his lips. “I said I’d walk in front of a bullet for you, but you took one for me instead. It doesn’t end like this, Carrera. You fight for me. You fight for us.” Kissing him again, I traced the slope of his dark eyebrow as a tear rolled off my nose and landed on his cheek. “Te amo.”

  * * *

  Walking the floors in the hallway, I’d already bitten every nail I had until they bled. I’d abandoned the tiny waiting room an hour ago and paced the hallway in front of the nurse’s station, garnering narrowed-eye glares after each pass of their desk.

  Fuck ‘em.

  After the eighth pass, Mateo rounded the corner and gently steadied my shoulders. “Eden, why don’t you go get something to eat? The doctor said he could be in surgery for another few hours.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Okay, some coffee at least.”

  “I’m not thirsty.”

  “Nobody is thirsty for coffee, Eden.”

  I crossed my arms and rubbed my palms down the bare skin of my arms not covered by scrubs. “What’s taking so long? If he was okay, it wouldn’t take so long, right?”