by SE Chardou
The hallway was empty except for the two of us, which caused me to swear under my breath. I’d walked right into one of the world’s oldest traps and didn’t even realize what I was doing. Several gold stars had to be appointed to my would-be assassin although a part of me knew that wasn’t why he was here, let alone threatening me at all.
I walked into my suite and set the card key on the table though I held on to my handbag. Inside, I had a weapon of my own but I wasn’t stupid—this guy would be too smart to let me draw it. I’d have a bullet in the brain before I grabbed the handle to the deadly Desert Eagle burning a hole in the bottom of my bag.
The door slammed behind me and I startled due to the noise more than out of fright. I finally faced my assailant and he smiled coldly as he removed his Ray-Bans and stared at me directly.
“If you knew what was good for you, you’d toss that cute little purse on the bed. I don’t want to shoot you but I will if it’s a clear cut case between your life and my own.”
I raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re not the least bit concerned about all the heat my death would draw, mostly from the Abandonato Mafia? I’m someone that is more precious alive rather than dead, Mr. . . .”
“The name is Fernando Navarro. You may have heard of me.” He glared with cruel eyes that were a color that couldn’t be distinguished in the dim room.
“Magnolia Abandonato . . . but then again, I do believe you already know that,” I responded as I turned my back on him, deposited my handbag on the bed and took a seat on one of the plush yet elegant lounge chairs in my suite.
Navarro looked at me before he shook his head slightly. The gun was still in his right hand but his arm was now in a resting position at his side. He didn’t seem to fear me and I sure as hell wasn’t scared of him. I’d faced more than a few guns pointed in the general direction of my person; it would take more than that to rattle my cage.
“I have heard of Magnolia Reynolds,” he began in a self-assured, Spanish-accented voice, “but never Magnolia Abandonato. Why did you change your name might I ask?”
“My mother’s maiden name carries a hell of a lot more weight than my father’s name. Besides, I am working with my family—the Abandonato Mafia. It only makes sense I make it known in the underworld I am connected with one of the most dangerous crime families in the world,” I explained with little emotion in my voice.
Fernando chuckled before he sat down across from me in a matching lounge chair. “So then I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining who the fuck I am and what family I belong to. Aztecas Infierno. The cartel. Emilio Navarro is my brother and Carlito Navarro is my nephew. Is that enough information about who I am?”
“I have never attempted to assassinate anyone in your family, Mr. Navarro. A few random cartel members—maybe—but no one that wasn’t replaceable.” I breathed out loud and waited a beat before I questioned, “What I would like to know is why are you so far away from home? Why are you threatening me at gunpoint? There is absolutely no reason for our paths to cross what so ever.”
“Two words.” Navarro held up two fingers from the hand not casually clutching the gun. “Mila Koslakova.”
I tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind my ear. “What the hell about her?”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to ask you about. You see, I came here to Florida because I was supposed to murder her and send a message to Koslakov. Imagine my surprise when you and your guy abducted her and decided to extract your own revenge? As you can see, your actions messed up a very solid plan.”
“Drink?” I wondered as I stood and walked over to the bar. I poured a Jack Daniel’s for myself into a clean glass.
“Jose Cuervo Especial if you have it.”
I grabbed the bottle of tequila and made Navarro a drink as well before I handed it to him and took my seat again, clutching my glass of whiskey. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had any business dealings with Koslakov. I can’t say the revenge I extracted on his wife was planned down to the letter but it was something that had to happen. Had I known that particular mafia boss had so many enemies I would have invited you to come along. You know, share in the fun of torturing that sadistic bitch before we killed her.”
Navarro swigged from his tequila although his eyes never left mine. “What was your business with Koslakova? Why was it so important for you to have your way with her, so to speak.”
I smiled coolly. “Nothing that should concern you. She wronged me—not my family per se unless you count the pain she caused Angelo, a dear relative of mine. I suffered more through the actions she committed than anyone else and I wanted her to die by my hands. I got my wish too. Ding dong—the bitch is dead. Sorry you were a day late and a dollar short but life’s a bitch and every other cliché phrase you can come up with. If it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t a personal affront to the Navarro Cartel. You have hardly pissed me off enough to hold a grudge toward you or the Abandonato Mafia.”
Navarro chuckled after he swallowed his tequila. I’d merely only sipped from my whiskey. I needed to keep my wits about me and now I knew why I was, unfortunately, a target according to this suave Latin crime figure, I would have to use every advantage possible at my fingertips to make it out of this suite alive.
He leaned toward me and although this should have put me at ease, it made me sit up straighter in my chair. “Ms. Reynolds—sorry, Ms. Abandonato—how do you and I get past this little . . . situation and learn how to perhaps trust one another?”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I’m sorry? Trust one another? I don’t even know you so how the hell could I possibly trust you? What exactly are you talking about?”
Navarro stood and strode to the closed curtains. He opened them just enough to allow the bright Florida sunshine inside my suite. “I can’t have you going back to your organization or your fiancé, blabbering about how I threatened you. We have ties to the Lucifer’s Saints MC, and while they aren’t direct ties to Abandonato, he could screw up our cozy situation. I can’t allow that to happen.”
I smiled though there was little mirth in my expression. “Mr. Navarro, do I appear to be the ‘damsel in distress’ type to you? I’m not supposed to be here in Florida so I won’t be telling anyone about this little run in with you—Angelo included. The hit on Mila Koslakova was supposed to be quick, neat and clean. The word was supposed to hit the streets and there were to be no usual suspects what so ever.”
He turned toward me as I faced him and downed the rest of my whiskey in one swallow. “So . . . Max Cartier has no idea about this? He doesn’t suspect you are here to murder his mother?”
“As far as Max is concerned, I am still in New Orleans,” I replied in carefully measured words. “Why he should believe this particular fabrication is of no significance to you. However, let’s just put it this way . . . he may not have any huge love loss for his mother but he didn’t have it in him to kill her either. It takes a special kind of person to commit matricide and Max isn’t that far off the deep end yet.”
Navarro nodded again. “Well, if that’s the case then we will pretend like this conversation between us never took place. You are free to do what you need to do and I will leave. The whole point of me being here was to end Mrs. Koslakova’s miserable life but since you have taken care of that particular job, I have no further business here. I will not ever breathe a word about what I know if you can promise the same.”
“Of course,” I said without another thought. “We can both get on with our lives and pretend this never happened and we have never met one another. It sounds like a great plan to me.”
I watched him as he shouldered his weapon and walked toward my suite door before he turned around to face me again. “A time will come in the future where I will need your help, Ms. Abandonato. I have spared your life but I also need assurance from you that when my name shows up on a list of yours to be assassinated, you will extend me the same courtesy?”
“Yes, that goes without saying.�
� I attempted a somewhat coy smile as I looked into his deadly eyes. “I never forget those who have spared me. Although . . . I’m a bit curious as to how you can be so sure someone would want to do you harm?”
Navarro shook his head before he held out his arms in an almost Christ-like pose. “Take a look around, Mags. The life we have made for ourselves is ruthless and unforgiving. Sacrifices are always made to the gods of war—those we have aligned ourselves so closely with. As sure as the sun rises and sets each day, we all will have our heads on the chopping block eventually. I have assured you it will never be me who ends your life but I can’t speak for others. I have sworn to you I will never harm you as long as I am alive and breathing . . . nor will anyone else from the Navarro Cartel touch you.
“If I can ask for the same courtesy then there is absolutely no reason why we cannot do business together in the future. I would like to think that although there is very little honor among thieves, an agreement between two assassins is still an agreement. If you look at the situation this way then there should be no doubt in your mind that I say what I mean and I mean what I say.”
“That doesn’t sound unreasonable to me at all. I will let you know when I hear anything and my gift in return will be to spare your life. However, have someone ready to die on your behalf. They don’t have to be a doppelganger but at least look enough like you I can fool who ever has ordered your death,” I responded with an air of confidence.
Navarro laughed out loud. “I like you. I do believe we can do business in the future. Adios, chica.”
“Until we meet again,” I said as he turned away from me, opened the door to my suite and left with a soft click of the door closing behind him.
I finally breathed a sigh of relief before I stood, strode to the door and applied the metal bolt so no one could enter.
My whole body felt dirty although he’d never touched me sexually. I planned to take a shower before Vincent and I left Miami that evening, I instinctively knew I wouldn’t be able to get any rest until I cleansed the night and morning from my body.
The dress I wore would undoubtedly end up in the garbage therefore I discarded it from my body along with my undergarments and walked into the bathroom nude. I started the shower and watched as the spray heated up quickly from lukewarm to hot before I stepped in and ducked my head under the showerhead.
I couldn’t scrub hard enough or cleanse myself fast enough. I knew so much of what I was feeling had nothing to do with my physical body but my spiritual and psychological self. I would never be able to remove the memory from my conscience the way I did my breasts, stomach, underarms, between my legs and thighs. No matter how hard I tried, I could try to be as clean as possible on the outside to hide the dirt I felt rotting away at me from the inside.
I don’t know how long I stood under that water but by the time I turned it off, my flesh had transformed from its natural golden hue to an angry scarlet, and I felt sore everywhere. Quickly grabbing a towel to dry my hair as I stepped out of the shower, I grabbed another for my body as soon as the damp strands had been wrapped in a towel turban.
My eyes caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and the woman staring back at me was hardly recognizable to the person I knew I’d become.
This couldn’t be my whole life and I had to change if I ever wanted to make peace with myself. The enemy of my past who’d put my whole destiny in motion was dead. I could continue down this path and hunt down every piece of shit that had ever wronged me or I could turn the other cheek and began a future I thought I’d put on hold until I’d met Max.
I knew I would have to choose the latter.
It wasn’t about giving up or surrendering but survival. Sooner or later, one of my ghosts from the past would be stronger, and even more cunning than I was—this wasn’t wishful thinking in the least but a hard, cold fact. If I wanted to stay one step ahead in this game, I would have to let it go, and face the fact that my future meant more to me than my past.
I’d avenged my parents’ death enough.
It was time to move on.
Vincent, punctual as usual, called at six that evening to let me know it was time to get ready. We would leave for the airport in less than an hour and catch a late flight from Miami to Reno. I quickly got dressed in a comfortable pair of dark jeans and white silk blouse I could easily cover with my favorite wool coat once situated on the plane.
A brisk knock at the door roused me from my contemplation.
“Vincent, is that you?” I stood and walked toward the door.
“Paranoid much, Mags? Who else are you expecting?” he wondered before I opened the suite door.
I smiled and held the door open for him while admiring how he managed to pull off calm, collective and sexy. It was so apparent to me why my uncle had chosen him to accompany me in the first place. Perhaps if I’d waited for him at the warehouse instead of taking off like a high-strung idiot, I wouldn’t be faced with a deal that couldn’t possibly do anything other than cause me a lot of strife in the years to come.
I turned away from him and walked back inside to gather my handbag and luggage. “No one. I guess I’m just feeling tired and a bit jittery. This job was harder than I expected it to be.”
“You mean the murder or something else?”
“I’m talking about the murder but not because of what we did—just who we did it to. I have been so hell bent on reaping revenge, I suppose a part of me forgot I would have to go back and face the woman’s son I recently dispatched of in cold blood.” I sighed out loud with uneasy resignation. “This job is much less of a hassle when you have absolutely no conscience about the person who’s doing the dying but . . . when it’s an unsanctioned hit like this one . . . I know Max is going to suffer.”
Vincent strode toward me and simply placed his hands on my shoulders. “We’ve gotta go. During the plane ride, you are going to pull yourself together and be the strong bitch I know you’re capable of becoming. No more second guessing or feeling sorry for your self. What’s done is done and we can’t bring the no good, lying cunt back even if we tried. Are you ready to go back to Nevada?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied as he removed his hands from my shoulders and grabbed the handle of my one and only suitcase.
“Good. Let’s go. Everything will look a lot better and brighter tomorrow once we’re back home.”
I smiled at the thought.
Home.
I hadn’t had a real one in a very long time, at least not since my parents were murdered. Not even all the years I’d spent with the White Knights in Vegas felt like home—it was just a building and that time in my life a horrible reprieve and nightmarish episode that passed as my reality.
Finally, I’d become part of an organization and a family. I knew where I belonged. Vincent was right. I needed to let go and concentrate on getting back to what mattered most in my life.
I turned toward my traveling companion and smiled. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
He grinned genuinely. “That’s my girl! The car is waiting downstairs to take us to the airport.”
I quickly slid my handbag on my shoulder and followed him out of my suite. As soon as the door closed behind us, I started to feel better. Soon, these last two days would be nothing more than a passing thought. I needed to believe that—now more than ever.
Chapter Four
Max
Max felt good.
He was very close to wrapping up all his business in Vegas and that night he would be back in Lake Tahoe and in the arms of the woman he loved.
Mags had been in Nevada for a couple of days after finishing the arrangements to have their most important documents and possessions transferred to their new home in Lake Tahoe from New Orleans.
They’d spoken on the phone and she sounded joyous and relieved to be back in Nevada. That was a good thing; the sooner he finished up his assignment, the sooner they could see one another again. Although it’d only been days, it felt like an interminab
le period of time had passed since they’d spent any time together.
He wouldn’t be human if he couldn’t admit to missing her very much. She truly was the rock and the stability of their relationship. Without her, he was lost in a sea of thieves, murderers and general scumbags that made other people’s lives miserable. She didn’t redeem him fully but he generally felt like a better man when he was in her presence.
Max knew how dangerous it was to rely on someone so heavily. If anything happened to her, he would be utterly lost. His life would cease to have meaning and purpose. He shuddered to think what would happen to him both personally and professionally. Would he still have a semblance of a conscience or was it possible the one mission to avenge Mags’ death and nothing else, which might swallow up any ambition he had about life?
His maudlin thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his sister, Karina. Dressed to the nines in designer clothes as usual, she wore a pair of stiletto boots and carried a ten thousand dollar handbag casually on her right shoulder. A pair of designer sunglasses shielded her ice blue eyes, and finished off her fashionably chic look.
He stood from the expensive leather lounge sofa he sat in and walked over to meet her. Brusquely, she waved his arms away when he attempted to embrace her.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Your bosses don’t give a shit about me and all they see me as is some kind of mole to do their bidding and then discard me like a piece of trash when I am no longer useful. Do you really think an embrace from you would save my life?” She swept her silky blonde hair over her shoulder in true over the top fashion.
Max grabbed one of her arms and held onto her with an iron grip. “Right now, you turning informant is about the only thing you can do that will save your bony ass. Come on, we have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time to do it. We all have a plane to catch and you’re the last meeting of the day.”