Shooting Scars: The Artists Trilogy 2

by Karina Halle

  Each minute I spent with Gus I realized I needed to become more like him, cool and distant. Somehow it worked for him and as time went on, it began to work for me. I even applied it to Sophia and Ben and my fucking father who wouldn’t stop ringing me until Gus destroyed my cell with a quick stomp of his boot. I filed it away, until I felt smooth and snag-free inside, like a machine.

  Our plan, according to Gus was fairly straightforward and simple. We’d head out to Mississippi where Ellie had lived as a girl and where she met Javier years later. We’d poke around, he’d ask a few of his contacts and hopefully find some sort of a trail.

  “I’m pretty sure Javier Bernal still lives in the state,” Gus had told me as he threw a duffel bag into the GTO. It landed in the trunk with a clatter and I knew it contained more than his clothes and toiletries. He was a bit wary about taking the car, even with the newspaper reporting it as a green Mustang but since his only vehicle was a beat-up café racer motorbike, he didn’t have much of a choice. I was relieved. As strange as it sounded, I could see why Ellie hung onto the car all those years. There was something very empowering about it, like it made you invincible. Maybe after that stunt on the Vegas highway I superstitiously believed in it.

  I was about to hop in the driver’s seat when Gus waved me off with a gruff gesture of his hand. “Nope,” he said, slipping on a pair of amber aviators. “Too risky with you driving. You’re sitting in the passenger seat, looking straight ahead, never to the side.”

  “Why don’t I just lie down in the back then?” I wasn’t questioning his methods but his tone of voice didn’t help.

  He gave me the are-you-an-idiot look. “If someone notices it’s only going to draw more suspicion. Look, as of right now, the photo circulating on the news is a far cry from what you look like. They’re looking for a pretty boy with a dumbass smile, you look like a piece of shit.”

  This was going to be a fun ride. “Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “It’s true. Now get in before I change my mind.”

  I almost wanted him to but I decided to suck it up and file my feelings toward Gus away too.

  Once we’d cleared the streets of Pismo Beach and were heading inland toward the I-5, I asked Gus what he knew about Javier.

  He pursed his rough lips as if he wasn’t sure I was worthy of the information. Then he talked.

  “As I told you before, I hadn’t kept in touch with Ellie too much over the years. We’d talk on the phone around Christmas time – she was really good at calling – but other than that it was more that I would help her out when I could. Fake IDs, information on people, yadda yadda. During that time, she never once mentioned Javier. It was like the moment she left him, she erased his memory from her head. And she seemed to be doing fine. What is the point in bringing up the past anyway? So I never spoke a word about him, even though I was keeping tabs – mainly out of curiosity, mainly for her sake. No one just up and leaves a gang member, it doesn’t happen. I was so sure he’d come after her right away, but from what I could tell, he never did. He stayed put in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. And then he began to build his empire.”

  A chill laced my blood. Empire?

  Gus went on. “I’d heard it through my grapevine that Travis and Javier were butting heads. He started getting friendlier with their rivals, Los Zetas in particular. That was unheard of, not to mention stupid for someone like him, but Travis Raines cared more about power than loyalties. He believed that their cartel could go grow stronger if they became allies instead of enemies and thought going back to Mexico would help. Never mind the explosion of violence in the country, the fighting, the tourists who were getting caught in the middle, the fact that it turned into one big shit show and it was getting international attention. Javier did not agree. Javier thought it was too dangerous, too chaotic, and that Travis would slowly lose control. He would rather die than make peace with his rivals. It came down to Javier staying behind and Travis booting him out. Javier siphoned a few key players of his, people who still had loyalty to a cause, instead of to Travis. I still don’t know who’d win in a fight, but Javier at least has charm to mask his brutality, something Travis doesn’t have.”

  I winced at the word charm. I remembered meeting Javier for the first time, in that café in Palm Valley. I wouldn’t say he had charm but he definitely had something. Mystery, if I wanted to sound quixotic about it.

  “There was an incident, of course,” he continued. “Before Travis left, he’d managed to get two of Javier’s men killed. And once he made it to Mexico, he went one step further and hunted down one of Javier’s sisters. Raped her, killed her, all that big stuff. This was about three years ago, mind you, though nothing really came of it. Javier still stayed in the US and began leaching from another cartel, trying to build his own power. That was his revenge, I suppose. Who knows, maybe Javier didn’t give two shits about his sister. Nothing would surprise me with that guy.”

  I cleared my throat, watching the green hills whiz by. “You knew all this stuff, all this time and you never told Ellie.”

  He looked chagrined or maybe that was wishful thinking. “It didn’t concern her. And by the time it did concern her …”

  “Well you obviously knew he was coming after her.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. I’d stopped paying attention about a year ago. I got dragged down into some money and health problems, I just didn’t have the time. Javier seemed to be holding steady and at that point I figured he’d never come looking for her.”

  “Which begs the question, why now?”

  “Good question. That’s what we’re going to find out. I doubt it was something as simple as hearing a love song on the radio.”

  “Perhaps it is as simple in that he’s still in love with her.”

  He glanced at me, his eyes hazy behind the aviators. “Men like Javier don’t know what love is. I wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

  But Ellie did know. And that’s what concerned me.

  “I’ll tell you one thing that I thought was odd,” Gus added. “About a few months before I stopped keeping tabs on him, I’d heard there was a couple that jumped ship – they’d been working for Javier and then went to the other side. To Travis. Javier sent some men after them but who knows what happened.”

  “A couple?” It didn’t seem like the line of work that a husband and wife would get roped into, like opening up a bed and breakfast.

  He nodded. “Yeah. A couple. An older couple at that. White folks. Amanda and Bob Williams.”

  There was something loaded in what he was saying but I wasn’t getting it.

  “You know, I used to be friends, good friends, with Amelie and Brian Watt.”

  The light went off in my head. AW. BW. Same initials.

  “Ellie’s parents?” I asked in disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Do you know for sure?”

  “I don’t. Just a gut feeling. I hadn’t talked to them since they up and left poor Ellie with her uncle. I wouldn’t put it past them, I don’t see the point of it all. Why go through all of that with their daughter only to go back to the man that did it.”

  “Maybe they got into some trouble.” It would have to be some major fucking trouble to go back to Travis or work for Javier. Was that a matter of Javier recruiting her parents, hoping he would get close to them or was it the other way around? No matter the reason, my damaged, beautiful girl was still getting screwed over, even without her knowing it.

  The anger must have been showing on my face because Gus tapped the steering wheel.

  “Hey aggro, don’t you go losing it on me. You said you were prepared to do whatever you could to get her back. Things are only going to get harder and more complicated from here on out.”

  I sucked in my breath and sat back in the seat, giving him a quick nod. We fell into silence punctuated by the staticky radio. I fell into my own head, facing my fears.

  I wondered what Ellie was d
oing right then and where she was. I wondered if she had any idea about her parents, if Javier would tell her and taunt her with it. I wondered just what the hell he wanted with her, a question that would drive me crazy until I knew. It couldn’t be as simple as a love struck ex-lover, not when Gus had explained what had gone on over the years. Javier hadn’t simply followed Ellie all that time, like she presumed. He went ahead and built up an “empire.” Was it a matter of the ex-boyfriend trying to make something of himself before attempting to win her back? In a way, I understood that. But I didn’t want to understand him. I didn’t want to think about how she got under my skin the same way she apparently got under his. I didn’t want to find any similarities between us.

  I could never turn into him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ELLIE

  Later that day, we set off. I barely had time to pack, which was ironic since I actually had things to pack when I shouldn’t have. Javier brought me a large carry-all bag for me to stuff my old clothes inside. It was creepy as hell, folding up my old stuff, knowing that we headed to another country like some couple on vacation.

  “I hope I don’t need my real passport,” I remarked as I hauled the bag out of the room. I had only one passport in my bag and it belonged to Eleanor Willis and I’d never crossed a border with it before. Gus had made it for me, so I assumed it would hold up, but this wasn’t the time to test it out. Getting busted with a drug cartel leader would be very, very bad for me. Almost as bad as not being busted.

  Javier stood at the end of the hall, white pants, white shirt, looking like the devil in a snowbank. “Angel, this is Mexico. And you’re an American. They wouldn’t even look at your ID. I, on the other hand … well I’m pretty sure it won’t be so easy.”

  “So we’re crossing the Rio Grande against the flow?”

  “That’s messy,” he said. He took a step forward to take the bag from me, but I held on tightly and yanked it out of his reach. He glared ever so slightly, then turned on his heel and went down the stairs.

  “We’ll be crossing over in style,” he tossed over his shoulder and headed out the front door, held open by the burly man who I think was called Carl or Carrell. It was hard to tell with his accent sometimes.

  I followed, the bag dragging behind me. Outside the air was bright and airy, like it wanted to fool me again with that whole vacation feeling. Palm trees and live oak waved in the breeze, a very picturesque scene that people never thought could happen in Mississippi. Even though my years in the state were full of emotional turmoil, there was a beauty here than most people overlooked. For me, the beauty had turned a shade deadly.

  The SUV was roaring in the driveway with Javier climbing in the back seat. Oh joy, I was going to be trapped with him again. That peculiar kind of fear, the one that made me wince with disgust, came trickling down my neck. Or maybe that was sweat. The temperature was unseasonably hot.

  Raul took the bag from me and tossed it in the trunk, then held the back door open like he was the perfect gentleman. I suppose I could have been thankful that it was Javier I had to sit with, not Raul, but a creep is a creep.

  I hopped in, buckled my seatbelt lest Javier try and do it for me, and leaned against the armrest on the door. Every part of me was crammed up away from him. He wasn’t trying to get close but the scene from the kitchen earlier was still fresh in my mind. I did not want to feel his breath on me ever again. The memories and the reality did not jive.

  After we were driving for a few minutes and notably not taking the highway, I had to ask, “Isn’t Mexico in the other direction?”

  “Patience, my angel,” he said, his eyes glued to the front of the car, a small smile on his face.

  I didn’t have fucking patience, especially when he kept calling me that name but I had to remind myself the more I gave, the more he wanted. I bit down on my lip to keep quiet and brought my cardigan around me, for modesty’s sake and to ward off the Arctic air-conditioning.

  Ten minutes later we were pulling up to yet another familiar place. The marina where Javier used to keep his sailboat. Another disturbing trip down memory fucking lane.

  I suppressed a shudder, knowing Javier was watching me like some science experiment. How much of our past can I torture her with? Am I breaking down her defenses? And other such thoughts.

  “You remember this place?” he asked delicately.

  I ignored him and spoke to the window as the SUV pulled into a loading zone lined with wheelbarrows. “I don’t have amnesia. Why the hell are we here?”

  He made a tsking sound, the type that made me look at him just to see how disappointed he looked. “Ellie, really.”

  I looked back at the marina. The panic started somewhere below my gut. He couldn’t be serious. He wasn’t that delusional was he?

  “We’re not going to Mexico on your boat,” I said, more of a statement than a question. Even if I was jumping the gun a bit, at least it was out there.

  He gave me that sly smile again. “Would that be a problem for you?”

  My mouth opened and closed like a fish, no words coming out. I knew that Javier probably had to lie low as we traveled across the country, but this seemed a bit extreme.

  “It’s not the same boat, don’t worry,” he said. He opened his door and hopped out just as Raul opened mine.

  Javier’s old sailboat was a sleek, gorgeous thing that held far too many moments for us. It was big enough to sail anywhere, really, but that wasn’t the point. I could barely handle being in the same vehicle as Javier, let alone a boat.

  I guess I must have stood there shaking my head or something crazy like that, because Raul’s cold fingers clamped around my forearm and yanked me forward.

  “Let’s go,” he growled.

  “Don’t touch me,” I growled back, yanking my arm away from him.

  Javier gave both of us an amused look as he walked off toward the docks. “This trip will be easier if the two of you learn to play nice.”

  “Fuck you,” I yelled after him. A family decked in nautical gear were unloading their car nearby and gave me an odd look. In fact they gave all of us an odd look and I couldn’t blame them. Big bald driver was hauling our bags out of the back of the black SUV, while the devil in white led the way for one henchmen and the damsel in distress. I wondered if we appeared suspicious enough for them to report us. Technically we weren’t doing anything illegal but if I had seen a similar scene, my radar would be going wild.

  But, what would happen if I mouthed to the father, with his wary eyes and nervous twitch, to “help me.” What would he do? And would he really help? What would I even say? Could I get away and still ensure that Camden would go untouched? Or was my freedom always going to be joined to him in that fate?

  I didn’t say anything. I was used to being the one trying to get away, not the one wanting to be caught. I just walked toward the docks, feeling like oxygen was slowly being leached from me, that the further we got away from solid ground, the less chance I had. For life, for liberty, for love, maybe for everything. My situation kept changing from day to day, moment to moment, and I wasn’t quick enough to keep up.

  Just when I thought my legs were turning to jelly, we stopped on the furthest dock in front of what I first thought were a bunch of sailboats all tied together in a row. I was wrong.

  “This is my new masterpiece,” Javier said with a too-wide smile, his arms spread wide, as if he built the boat himself.

  He wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t the same boat. I didn’t even think you could call it a boat, it was more like a floating apartment complex, a hotel on the sea, a mothership. This boat, this yacht, this monster had to be almost 200-feet long and one of the largest things I had ever seen. It had two masts that seemed to stretch into the hazy heavens, it sparkled in the sunlight, glossy navy and white paint and teak accents, and boasted a crew of four people, all men in their twenties, who stood in a row on the deck sides like subjects greeting the King. There were less obvious ways of jetti
ng off to Mexico but this wasn’t one of them. Javier was nothing if not obvious sometimes.

  He’d been waiting for my reaction, for me to say something, but I couldn’t do it. He wanted me to be impressed when all I could think about, despite the size of the sea beast, was that I was going to be stuck on that ship for quite some time, with no way off except a watery grave.

  “Come on, let’s get you introduced to the crew and settled,” he said, waving at the driver to bring the bags on board. I peered at the boat’s name as everyone shuffled around me. It was called Beatriz, which happened to be the name of his oldest sister. I wondered why it was named after her, if something happened, when I realized I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. Men like Javier used sympathy as a fuel.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” Javier asked from up above, holding his hand out for me. “Because you don’t have to come with us, you know this.”

  I didn’t know if he was saying it for the benefit of the crew, who were all facing forward, stony yet eager expressions on their faces, dressed in black shorts and black polo shirts.

  I watched them carefully as I said, “If I don’t come with you, you’ll kill Camden McQueen. It’s not a hard choice to make.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Javier sneer, but none of the boys even blinked. They couldn’t have been much younger than me by a few years, but apparently they were already jaded and hardened to this life. Javier’s empire was a lot larger, and went a lot younger, than I had thought. It made me wonder what lives they must had led to get dragged into this kind of mess. Super yacht or not, I could only hope Javier paid them well.