“You were watching? From a distance?” I try to, but there’s no way I can stop a wave of bitterness from taking over my voice. How could she have abandoned me like this, allowing me to think that I had no family when she was working for the same people that I was?
“Don’t take it so personally, will you?” She forces another sip of her whisky down her throat, and then she just gives up, placing the glass on the counter and pushing it back. “Terrible. Anyway,” she continues, turning her focus back on me. “We work for the cartel. And I had to keep my distance from you, as I was ordered. I think it was a good thing too, as it allowed us both to carve our own path inside the organization.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I rise up to my feet, my hands balled into fists as I stare into the face of the woman who abandoned me to a life of crime. Sure, it made me into the woman I am today. But who the fuck would do that to her own daughter? What kind of monster is she? “You’re my mother.”
“And?” Her tone grows cold, and her eyes—which seemed so smart and lively at glance—suddenly turn lifeless. “I was your father’s wife, and that didn’t change a thing, did it?”
“What are you—?” I start to say, but I trail off as I realize what she’s hinting at. “No...you’re lying...you would have never—”
“What, Eliza? I would have never what? Give up on your father and turn him in to the Cabeza Dios? Do you think that’s my fault? He was the one who thought he could defy the cartel, selling his stupid cigarettes. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. I thought you were smart enough to understand that.”
“You killed him,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my heart pumping adrenaline and rage through me. “You fucking bitch.”
“Now,” she waves one finger at me, almost as if she was scolding me. “That’s no way to treat your mother. But I’m not here to talk about the past. I couldn’t care less about the past.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I know what you’re doing.” Her voices lowers, her words nothing but a whisper. “I know that you’ve been working together with Grayson Teague, and I know you have the formula. Lorenzo sent me to follow you. You know I got a job at the diner across the street from your little warehouse. When you finally crack that formula and turn it in, you’ll be more powerful than ever inside the cartel, Eliza. I trust you know the importance of your assignment.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I growl, doing my best not to slam my glass on her forehead and kill her right here.
“Do you? Because Grayson Teague is still alive, isn’t he? Do you really think Lorenzo Quentin is willing to share the formula with the Bonita Muerte cartel?” She shakes her disapprovingly, and then turns to me and gives me a lifeless smile. “More than that, do you think the Bonita Muerte cartel wants to share it with us? In this line of business, there’s no sharing. Not when we’re talking about something as important as this formula.”
I just stare at her, not knowing how to respond.
She gets up from her seat and turns to leave. Then, before she does, she looks back over her shoulder and looks me straight in the eye.
“You can’t trust him, Eliza. Give him up, shoot him in the back of the head. I don’t care. But sooner or later, you’re gonna have to make a choice.”
Twenty-Two
Eliza
For the rest of the day, I’m in a daze.
I have to kill Grayson Teague.
The man who makes me feel alive.
I can’t think straight, and I can barely string a coherent sentence together. Grayson has noticed already. How could he not? The moment he found me in our suite, staring out the window, he knew right away. And when he came for me, his hands going straight for my hips, and I pushed him back...then he was sure that something was off.
But he didn’t press the subject. No, we simply got out of the hotel and returned to the warehouse. The world around me might be crumbling, but the show never stops.
“It’s ready,” the head chemist announces the moment we step through the door. “We have completed a full first batch. And, just like advertised, the formula works wonders. A few of our, huh, associates have already tried it...and they have nothing but good things to tell.”
“Tell ‘em to keep their noses out of the stuff,” Grayson replies, that hard edge to his voice. “Or I might have to cut their noses off.”
That might be a perfect time to take my knife from my belt and plunge it into his heart.
But I can’t.
“Sure, of course, jefe,” the chemist replies, clicking his heels together and returning to his workstation. The majority of the crew is still asleep in some of the deserted offices. No one was allowed to leave or enter this place without our say-so—and four men with assault rifles patrol the place, their fingers dangerously close to the triggers.
“Eliza, we need to talk,” Grayson tells me then, taking my hand in his and dragging me into the office we had claimed as our own. “Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are, it’s not too late to—”
“No, I’m not having second thoughts.” I sink down onto one of the chairs as I say it. He’s close. I could take my gun and shoot him point blank right now.
But I can’t.
Taking a deep breath, I bury my face into my hands. “It’s just that...it’s complicated. I found out that…” I trail off, not sure if I should tell him about my mother’s sudden appearance. How will he react once he knows that the cartel is using my mother to pressure me into killing him?
“What did you find out?” He asks me, pure curiosity in his voice. No, more than that...in his voice I hear concern. Not for the operation, but for me. He’s worried about me.
“It’s...not important,” I manage to say, forcing myself to stand and plastering a fake smile on my lips. Grayson Teague has become one of the most important things in my life and, still, I can’t seem to trust him. Not with this, at least.
I can’t trust him…but I can’t forget how he feels inside me. He makes me feel safe.
“Eliza, I—”
He’s interrupted by a knock on the door, and a second later Rafe steps inside the office, eyeing the two of us suspiciously. He sees the expression on my face, and I can immediately tell that he knows something’s off. Rafe’s like that when it comes to me—he notices the little things when no one else does.
“Is everything alright?” He asks us, glancing from one to the other. “I just got word from the chemist that the first batch is completed, and that it works as intended.” He does a slight pause, then looks straight at me. “I still haven’t moved the news up the chain. I’ll let you do the honors, Eliza.”
“Thank you, Rafe,” I smile at him, fully knowing that he’s breaking protocol on my behalf. If this were any other operation, Rafe would’ve already told the boss that we had succeeded. But he’s waiting to see what I do first. Somehow, this man is willing to put his loyalty to me ahead of his own life...and for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.
“Grayson, can I have a word?” He asks him, and the two men leave the room, closing the door behind them. I sit down once more and lean back against the chair, sucking in a deep breath just to see if I can stop my head from spinning.
This whole thing is a nightmare. What am I supposed to do?
And now that my mother has appeared...what if she finds out that we have already completed production? What if she tells the boss we have produced a batch and decided to hold off the news?
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
From outside the office I hear Grayson and Rafe’s muffled voices, and I let curiosity get the best of me; going up to my feet, I move toward the door and softly press my ear against it.
“...the bullshit,” I hear Rafe say. “I have no idea what the two of you are planning, but swear to God, Grayson...if this ends up hurting Eliza, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll look for you in hell, if I have to.”
“Take it easy, old man,” Grayson replies, his voice half-whisper,
half-growl. “We know what we’re supposed to do, and we’re going to do it. Don’t waste your time with ifs.”
“You might be the best of killers, but you’re a terrible liar. The two of you are up to something. Fuck, you’re putting me in a bad position here, you know that?”
“I’m not doing shit. You’re free to do whatever you wanna do, Rafe.”
“Yeah, right...just be careful. I know you think you know it all, but you don’t. And Eliza, she’s the world to me. And things are going to happen fast from this moment on. The cartel wants to make sure this operation goes down smoothly, and I’ve had word that another operative is coming here to oversee things.”
“Another operative?”
“Yeah,” he say darkly and I know they’re talking about my mom even if they don’t. “They didn’t tell me who it was, so I can only assume it’s one of the higher-ups. And I don’t like that, Grayson, not one bit. Something reeks here. I know you don’t like me—and that just as much as I despise you—but we need to watch and protect Eliza. Whatever the cost.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then I hear Grayson’s reply.
“I’d give my life for her.”
Rafe’s reply is nothing but an echo.
“So would I.”
Twenty-Three
Grayson
I know Eliza and I are supposed to be staying separate but let me just tell you that it fucking kills me.
Especially tonight. We should be in bed next to each other, naked as we plot our next move.
But instead she’s gone back to her motel and I’m making plans for cleaning up our operation. Taking care of the human capital is going to be the biggest challenge. We’re going to have to do it all in one fell swoop. Guns are a preferred approach but might be too messy. Maybe poison.
Yeah, I don’t give two shits about our folks in the lab. I’ll kill as many people as I need to make sure Eliza and I are taken care of.
“Late night?” Rafe says to me as he walks in. I scowl at him. Motherfucker normally just ignores me. Or treats me like someone he has to tolerate. What the fuck now? He wants to make small talk?
“Yeah,” I say. I don’t know how else to respond.
“Listen, sorry if I was hard on you before,” he says.
I shrug.
“No big deal,” I say back to him.
“You ever been to the diner down the street?” Rafe asks, sitting down.
I look at him and want to fucking strangle him. I’m here planning a fucking massacre of the people who work for us and he’s talking about diners. Please tell me he doesn’t want to go over and share a tuna melt.
“I’ve been a couple times,” I say.
“What do you think of that lady who works behind the counter?” he asks me. “She rings you up after you’re done eating and pours coffee sometimes.”
I think I know who he’s talking about. She’s older, probably forty maybe close to fifty. Cheerful woman, always saying something sweet when I come in. But I don’t know what Rafe expects me to say.
“She’s always given me exact change,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “She said she just started the last time I was there,” he continues. “Roughly about a month. Probably the same time we started shit here.”
“Is there a point to this?” I ask him. “You want to fuck her?”
He laughs again. “I think she’s got eyes for you,” he says to me and gets up.
God. Maybe we should include Rafe in the fucking cleanup. That’s five minutes of my life I’m never fucking getting back.
Rafe heads to the door of the office I’m sitting in still chuckling.
“Oh, before I forget,” he says as he stops and that’s when I know he came in for something else. “I know you and Eliza are…close.”
“Yeah,” I say, not sure again what to say to this man who thinks he’s her father.
“I also know this month has been hard,” he says and I look at him.
“So I just wanted to give you this, so you can have her on nights when you guys are separated,” he says and drops something on my desk.
It’s a photograph. Old and worn. Eliza as a girl. I’d know that face anywhere.
But the face next to it is what freezes me.
It’s the woman from the diner.
She has aged pretty well. Kept her looks, just added some lines.
And that’s when it all clicks.
A woman like that whose supposed to be dead isn’t here for any benign reason if she’s here right now so close to us at this point in Eliza’s life.
Rafe has already left the office, getting out of my way. And it’s a good fucking thing. I grab my gun.
I need to get to her motel room.
She’s in trouble.
Twenty-Four
Eliza
As I drive back to the seedy motel I’m staying in San Diego—never stay in the same place twice, not when shit is going down—I can’t stop thinking about the mess I’m in. Maybe if I were staying at the InterContinental I could relax and think. No such luck this time around.
Changing the drug game with a secret formula would be crazy enough for a day’s work, but add to that the fact that I’m plotting to overthrow two of the most dangerous cartels in the world, and my mother’s return from the dead...and you have a total shitstorm.
Oh, and to make matters worse, I’m falling in love with the man I should be killing. Yes, there, I said it...I’m falling in love with Grayson Teague, and I don’t give two shits about what you think. The way he said he was willing to give his life for mine, the way he swore to protect me no matter that...how can I stop myself from falling in love with a man like that?
Fuck my mother.
I’ll put a bullet in her head if I have to, but there’s no way in hell I’m turning Grayson in. I’m not going to follow in her footsteps and turn myself into a crazy bitch willing to sacrifice those she loves to the gods of power and money.
Fuck that.
Shit. My life is going up in flames, isn’t it? God, I just wish I could spend the night with Grayson. Too bad that the way things are right now, it’s better we’re not seen together. Makes us harder to track down.
As I bring my car to a stop in the motel’s parking lot, I kill the the engine and remain sitting inside it for a long time, my hands gripping the steering wheel tight. No matter how hard I try to think of a solution, it’s as if my brain refuses to cooperate. Sure, Grayson and I are more than willing to go to war—but to do that without a plan would be pure suicide.
Sighing, I get out of the car and start making way toward the room I rented for the night. I’m pushing the key into its hole when I feel footsteps right behind me. Before I have the time to turn around, I feel the cold barrel of a gun pressed against my neck.
“Don’t move, bitch,” a man whispers, and then I hear the soft click of high heels drawing close. I hold my breath as the seconds tick, and I close my eyes as I accept the inevitable.
This is the end of the line for me.
“Oh, Eliza, you just don’t have it in you, do you?” My mother says as she stops at my side, looking at me with a an expression of fake pity covering her face. “Why is Grayson Teague still alive?”
“I...I need time.” I’m just trying to buy some time here, but I know that I’m screwed. No doubt about that.
“Oh, poor child,” my mother whispers, caressing my cheek with the back of her hand. “Lying for love, are we now?”
“Love? What are you—”
She cuts me short, slapping me as hard as she can. I feel the taste of copper inside my mouth, and then blood trickles down from my bottom lip.
“You shouldn’t lie to your mother, Eliza,” she tells me, and then turns to the man holding the gun against my neck. “Bring her. It’s time we end this.”
Next thing I know, the guy hits me in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Darkness takes over me.
“Wake up, Eliza.”
There’s
a voice somewhere and, oddly enough, it resembles that of my mother. But that can’t be true. My mother’s long dead.
“Wake up. It’s time we stop playing games,” that voices returns, and then I feel the splash of cold water on my face. Groaning, I force my eyelids up and feel my surroundings spin around me. My head hurts like hell and, as I try to move, I realize that both my ankles and wrists have been tied to a chair. I’m sitting in the middle of an expansive but empty warehouse, and the whole place is covered in shadows.
My mother is standing right in front of me, wearing a pencil skirt and a button-up white shirt. Her hair is tied up behind her head, and she looks like a business woman hellbent on getting the other party to sign whatever deal she’s hurting for. Thing is, this deal she wants...she wants it signed in blood.
“It’s a shame, isn’t it? I expected great things from you, Eliza. But now, here we are. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Fuck you,” I spit toward her, and she just offers me a vicious grin.
She’s enjoying this.
“No, I’m not in charge of that department,” she chuckles lightly, closing the distance between me and her. “But you know who is? Dozens of members of our little cartel. No, make it hundreds. They’re all in charge of the fuck you department. And they’re all more than willing to fuck you. Oh, I bet they’ll enjoy that very much. But you already know that, don’t you? Always dressing up, teasing everyone you meet. You’ve noticed how everyone lusts after you, and you like it. You’re nothing but a common whore.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Oh, she has spunk, hasn’t she?” She laughs, looking back over her shoulder at the man standing behind her. He’s wearing a leather jacket, and there’s a somber expression on his face; in his hand, there’s a gun. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying this, but he doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered by it. Just another job for him.
Don't Trust Him: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Suspense (King Vs. Queen Book 1) Page 10