Strike Fast

by Kaylea Cross

  The building pressure in her chest eased, and she smiled back at him. “You haven’t even left yet, and I already miss you and can’t wait to see you again.”

  He laughed softly. “That’s my plan, darlin’. Making you crazy for me.”

  Oh, she really liked it when he called her that in his Mississippi drawl. “Well it’s working.” She was so hooked, it wasn’t even funny. Reaching up to slip a hand around his nape, she squeezed gently. “You be safe, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yeah, you will. Now go back to sleep,” he whispered, dropping one last kiss on her lips and pulling the covers up over her.

  Tess curled onto her side and watched while he laced up his boots, murmured goodbye when he paused at the door.

  “See you soon,” he said, then slipped out into the hall.

  The door closed and the lock clicked into place. Tess rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling, the heaviness in her chest growing with each imagined step he took down the hall. Falling for another man with a dangerous profession was probably asking for heartbreak, but it was too late for that to stop her now.

  All she could do was keep going and see what happened, and pray that the combined weight of time, distance and his baggage wouldn’t crush her in the end.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carlos took another drag of his cigar and tightened his fingers around the crystal tumbler that held his half-finished whiskey on the rocks. Once again, the Big Easy hadn’t disappointed. His belly was full of rich French Creole food, his third whiskey warming his veins pleasantly. And soon, both his cock and the desire for vengeance would be satisfied as well.

  Exhaling a stream of smoke toward the ceiling, he glanced around the decadently furnished room. This place had been a brothel back in the day, and the velvet and leather used in the décor had a sensuous, erotic feel. The perfect setting for what would transpire here as soon as they brought the reporter whore in. She’d had almost a week to heal up now, enough time for her face and body to recover sufficiently, with a little help from some skillfully applied makeup from the salon people he’d hired to make her presentable for him.

  He glanced at his watch, irritated that she was late. A soft knock drew his attention to the door. “What is it?” he asked in annoyance.

  Antonio stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Even cleaned up and dressed in a suit with his black hair slicked back, he still looked exactly like what he was. A killer.

  One look at his chief enforcer’s face, and Carlos knew something was wrong. “Well?” he demanded.

  “She’s gone.”

  Not believing his ears, Carlos set his drink down on the mirrored side table next to him, his fingers all but crushing the cigar as he clenched it. “What?” Two enforcers were supposed to have escorted her here an hour ago.

  Antonio shifted his weight and drew in a breath, seemed to struggle to meet Carlos’s gaze. “Manny just called me. There was a sting at the bayou house.”

  The cigar and drink forgotten, Carlos shot to his feet and advanced on Antonio, too angry to take any kind of satisfaction in the way the other man paled and took a step back. “What kind of sting?” he snapped.

  “He said it was the FBI and the DEA working together. They stormed the house, killed some guys, took one prisoner and took the women. Manny was the only one who escaped.”

  Carlos curled his upper lip into a sneer. Manny had run rather than protect Carlos’s investment. “Fucking coward. Where is he?”

  “Outside Baton Rouge. Or so he says.”

  “And that reporter bitch, they took her too?” He’d made it crystal clear that two of his men should guard her at all times.

  Antonio nodded in confirmation.

  Rage exploded inside him, dark and deadly. With a snarl he swept an arm out, clearing the top of the antique sideboard with one vicious swipe. Crystal decanters and glassware exploded against the wall and floor, covering the marble tiles in glittering shards and puddles of liquor.

  It did nothing to cool his temper. “How the fuck could they let this happen?” he roared, rounding on Antonio, who stood there unmoving, his face impassive, still a little pale. Because he knew exactly what could happen when Carlos was in a rage. “She was supposed to be here an hour ago, and I’m just finding out about all this now?”

  “He didn’t think it was safe to call it in until now.”

  “Because he’s more worried about saving his own pathetic skin instead of protecting my business,” Carlos scoffed. Manny would pay for that. Dearly.

  The whore was gone. Out of reach now. Carlos ran a hand through his hair, fighting to get a grip on his temper. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, his mind whirling, a red haze clouding his thoughts.

  The loss of the female cargo hurt his pride more than his bank account, but that bitch reporter… She knew exactly who he was, would tell the U.S. authorities that he’d been at the property a week ago.

  And she was fucking smart. Smart enough to have put pieces of his operation together during her captivity, no matter how isolated they’d kept her. He wasn’t stupid enough to think his men hadn’t let something slip in front of her, having mistakenly assumed she wasn’t a security threat since she was bound hand and foot and would be sold off soon enough.

  And now, because of their incompetence and unforgivable cowardice, he would never get the chance to punish her personally for what she’d done to him.

  The ache in his leg and hip transformed to a searing pain, as though his body was screaming its outrage. But there was no way to get her back now. No way to get the retribution he’d planned out so carefully and dreamed of for so long.

  His chance was gone. The only remaining viable targets to focus on now were the agencies and units involved in tonight’s operation.

  Resolve hardened inside him. Going after a federal agent was a risk, but he couldn’t afford to appear weak and powerless against anyone, and he was sure to catch hell from El Escorpion for bringing undue attention to himself and the cartel as a whole.

  So be it. Carlos was sick of playing the faithful lap dog to the head of the cartel. Someday soon, he was going to be head of the organization. All he needed was the right opportunity to crush his rivals…and El Escorpion himself.

  In his world, ruthlessness was the key. And it was something he had in large supply.

  So he would identify the men who had done this to him. He would find them and figure out a way to make them pay, make a statement to show the whole world that he was untouchable. That he could get to anyone who posed a threat to his business.

  Calmer now in spite of the residual anger simmering inside him, he faced Antonio again. “Call Manny. If he wants to live, he’ll work all his contacts and find out who was there tonight. Have everyone in our network talk to whoever they need to in order to ID those men. I want faces and names. Personal information.” He’d still kill Manny for running tonight, after he’d taken care of this. A real man would have stood his ground and died in a hail of bullets rather than run off into the woods like a scared fucking rabbit.

  Antonio nodded and started to turn away, but Carlos stopped him with an upraised hand. “Do whatever it takes to make this happen in the next forty-eight hours. Pay off whoever you need to. I don’t care how much it costs.” Two days would give him more than enough time to slip back into Mexico undetected and wait for news from the safety of his ranch, where he was hidden and protected by the local population. “Tell them to find a weakness I can exploit.”

  Because no one fucked with Carlos Ruiz. Not even the United States government.

  ****

  Lying on a rolling board beneath the Mustang’s engine in the garage of his building, Reid finished emptying the oil pan and wiped his hands with a clean rag before replacing the bolt. He’d had a hell of a week, but at least he’d stayed busy, a blessing when Jason’s anniversary was coming up on Sunday. On the last turn of the wrench, his cell rang in his pocket, the specific notes putting
an instant smile on his face.

  Tess.

  It had been almost a week since he’d left her in that hotel room in Biloxi. His plans to fly to see her had fallen through because Taggart had ordered the team back to Virginia that same day.

  They’d spoken on the phone every day since, sometimes several times a day, but it wasn’t enough and he still planned to head down there the first chance he got, maybe even next weekend since Autumn was supposed to go away with her mom and Max right after school let out for the summer. He didn’t want to say anything to Tess until he knew for sure, though, and maybe not even then, because surprising her and just showing up at her door would be a hell of a fun thing to do.

  Rolling out from beneath the vehicle, he sat up and answered. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey yourself. What are you up to?”

  “Just finishing up an oil change.”

  “Mmm, I love that you’re so good with your hands.”

  He went rock hard in his jeans at the husky edge to her voice. “I love that you appreciate it.”

  Her soft laugh was sultry, sexy as hell. “And after the oil change, what plans have you got? It’s Friday night.”

  “I’m gonna wax this baby up. Rub her all over and stroke her curves until she purrs for me like a kitten.”

  “That’s so unfair. Making me jealous of a damn car.”

  He chuckled. “I’d rather be stroking your curves, believe me.”

  He’d replayed everything about those few hours in bed with her a thousand times over this past week. How she’d felt underneath him, her curves and hollows nestled into his body. How silky soft her skin was. How responsive she’d been to every single touch and caress. The sweet sounds she’d made as she clung to him, the way she’d clenched around his fingers when she came.

  He’d recalled every single detail of it in his mind when he stroked himself in the shower, his entire body aching for her.

  “Well that’s good. What are you waxing your baby up for, anyway? Hot date or something?”

  “Yep. I’m taking Autumn for dinner after her softball game tomorrow afternoon, then bringing her back here for a sleepover.”

  “Aww. Maybe take her to that dessert place we saw after dinner?”

  “I was thinking about it.” He wiped his palm over the rag on his thigh. “Wish you could be with us.”

  “Me too. But I’ll be with you in spirit, if that counts.”

  “It totally counts.” She was one of the most grounded people he’d ever met. Just hearing her voice soothed him. “What are you up to?”

  “I’ve got a hot date with my TV and a slice of strawberry cheesecake I bought on the way home.”

  “My night sounds more fun.”

  “Depends on your point of view. Been a busy week, and I’m cool with curling up by myself for the night.”

  “Been flying a lot?”

  “Not as much as I’d like. Mostly meetings due to some reorganization in our department. And paperwork, which I hate.”

  “Don’t we all.”

  “What about you, any updates on the Ruiz case?”

  “Still no lock on him. They think he’s back in Mexico now, and down there because of his money, connections and reputation, he’s pretty much untouchable.”

  She grunted. “It’s so damn frustrating that we can’t operate down there.”

  “Tell me about it.” Although the time was coming where the Mexican government was going to have to relax its policy on that and allow them in.

  Nothing the Mexican officials had done so far had been the least bit effective in curtailing, let alone destroying, narcotic production or smuggling down there. The cartels pretty much owned and ran everything, and so much of the country outside their control was corrupt anyway, the only solution Reid could see was to bring an outside force down to help clean the country out.

  “The analysis of the dope we seized came back a few days ago.” He had no problem sharing this information with her because she was a fellow agent involved with the case and had the same security clearance he did.

  “And? Anything interesting?”

  “The lab identified it as coming from a region about a hundred miles southeast of where the agency previously thought the Venenos operated. So their territory is expanding instead of shrinking.”

  She sighed. “Figures. What about that reporter? How is she doing?”

  “Still in the hospital, last I heard. Hamilton’s been in to talk to her a couple times. She’s been giving the agency valuable information about Ruiz and his crew.”

  “I’m glad she’s getting better. I can only imagine how badly she wants Ruiz captured.”

  Wasn’t that the truth. He climbed to his feet, picturing Tess curled up on a couch with her golden-blond hair down loose around her shoulders. “I miss you.” It amazed him how much. He thought about her constantly.

  A tiny pause followed the announcement. “I miss you too.” He could hear the pleasure in her voice.

  He blew out a breath, aware of an aching pressure blooming in the center of his chest. “So, what are you going to watch while you eat your cheesecake?”

  “The first Harry Potter movie, I think. Autumn would like that.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, she would.” They talked about movies and favorite shows for a while, and when he heard her yawn for the third time, he took pity on her. “You go curl up and relax. I’ve gotta finish this up and grab something to eat before I starve to death.”

  “Okay. Have fun tomorrow. Say hi to Autumn for me.”

  “I’ll do you one better. We’ll call you from the car when we leave the park, and you guys can talk about the movie.”

  “Deal.”

  Reid smiled, determined to get down there and surprise her. Maybe Autumn could help him come up with a unique way to do it. “G’night, darlin’.”

  “G’night, handsome.”

  He slipped the phone back into his pocket and picked up the first quart of oil sitting on the foldable workbench, that damn ache between his ribs growing sharper.

  ****

  Twilight was Carlos’s favorite time of night. The air was soft and warm, filled with the hum of insects, and the breeze was cool. Here on this little piece of paradise that he’d carved out of his portion of the cartel’s massive territory, he was free.

  And completely alone.

  He sighed, pushing away the loneliness he tried so hard to ignore. It bothered him less and less these days, but sometimes…

  His gaze strayed over his shoulder to the sprawling hacienda he’d built. For some reason, ordering a whore up here to the main house didn’t appeal to him tonight. He’d given up the idea of finding someone to love who would love him back when he was eighteen. He’d loved once and only once, back then when he was young and stupid, and all he’d gotten in return was his heart stomped on when she’d left him, complaining that he was too poor to waste her life on.

  That ultimate betrayal, after his worthless slut of a mother had ditched him and his brothers, had changed him. Now women were nothing more than objects for him to control, buy or sell as he pleased.

  If the girl who’d crushed his heart could only see him now, that bitch would be sorry. But that other bitch escaping him last week still burned like a hot coal in the bottom of his gut.

  Seven days he’d waited for news, either about her or one of the agents involved in the sting that had taken her from him. A lead. A tip. Something. Anything that might allow him to strike back at the people who had humiliated him with that raid last weekend.

  Carlos stopped at the corral fence and set the sole of his cowboy boot on the lower rail as he held out a handful of cornhusks to the giraffe watching him from the far corner. At least his animals made him happy. Animals were simple. Loyal, once he earned their trust. Unlike their human counterparts.

  This young female was exceptionally wary of humans, however. Fearful of approaching lest she be beaten with sticks the moment she got close, as the men from the circus had
done to her when she’d foraged for food in their tent. They’d nearly killed her.

  “Come on, I brought this out just for you,” he crooned, tossing some over the top rail and scooping out another big handful from the bucket he’d brought from the kitchen.

  The animal twitched its ears and stared back at him with those huge brown eyes surrounded by insanely long eyelashes. Such a pretty girl.

  Whatever it took, he was determined to get this one to eat from his hand.

  He waited there, unmoving for God only knew how long. His upper arm rested on the top rail, his hand long since having fallen asleep because of the awkward position, the cornhusks still in his fist. Then the giraffe took a step toward him.

  Carlos held his breath, waiting. He’d spent hours doing exactly this, standing at the fence and letting her get used to his scent. Making sure he stayed still, never doing anything that might startle her. Showing her he wasn’t to be feared. Was the effort finally paying off?

  She took another halting step. Then another. And another. Until she was close enough to stretch out her long, spotted neck to sniff at the offering while still leaving a foot of space between her muzzle and his hand.

  He didn’t dare move, enthralled, willing her to come that last few inches and take from him. He wasn’t a patient man, never had been, and his money and power meant he didn’t have to rectify that character flaw. But he had patience enough for this. To offer another lost soul who’d known only fear and deprivation a chance for something better. The shot at a better life.

  The giraffe’s nostrils flared and her long purple tongue darted out to curl around the husks, snatching them from his hand without making contact.

  “Cheater,” he told her, and reached down for another handful from the bucket.

  The crunch of footsteps over the gravel path that connected the corral with the back lawn sounded behind him. Startled, the giraffe jerked her head up and whirled around to lope away back to the safety of the far side of the corral.