But, of course, first we have to survive this.
“What do we do now?” I ask Grayson, sitting up and resting my head on his shoulder. “There’s no way out.”
“There’s always a way out.”
“San Diego is crawling with sicarios. Ironically, a lot of them are holed up at the Holiday Inn. Go figure. There are two cartels looking for us—yours and mine—and God knows that every criminal organization we’ve ever heard about would love to have a chat with us. By now, word of the formula must’ve gotten out. From the Sicilian mob to the Triads...they’re all out there, just waiting to lay their hands on us the moment we show our faces.”
“Yeah, and every single asshole in the fucking world would love to own the formula, I know that,” he sighs, turning to me. “But we own it, Eliza. Believe it or not, we’re the ones in a position of power right now.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know,” he admits, clenching his jaw and turning both hands into fists. “But I promise. I’ll find a way out. The plans we’ve made...they’ll become real.”
“I love you, Grayson,” I whisper softly, closing my eyes as he leans in. Our lips brush together, and the world fades around us as we kiss. For a moment, I forget everything about drugs, cartels, and murders. I forget about my childhood and all the violence that followed me as I grew up.
For a moment, Grayson is the only real thing in the whole universe.
And, as stupid as it might be, I believe his promise.
We will find a way out. Together.
“I love you too.”
For a man who was born out of violence, he sure has the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. One that makes me weak in the knees and forces me to believe in the fairy tales of old. Somehow, this man makes me believe that there just might be an happy ending waiting for us at the end of this novel.
“I don’t want this to be our last night,” I find myself saying as I stand up. Feeling a tightness in my heart, I walk out of the room and onto the balcony. Gripping the handrails tight, I look out toward the horizon, a cold breeze whipping my hair back. Right now, there are hundreds of men out there, all of them looking for us and excited about the prospect of dragging our asses back to Colombia or Mexico for endless days of torture.
“It won’t be,” he promises, standing next to me and placing his jacket over my shoulders. “This is just the first night we’re together for good, and it’ll be the first of many.”
“But we gotta do something.”
“We do.”
“Sooner or later they’re going to find us. Or the warehouse. Maybe we should just run, Grayson, leave it all behind us…”
“You know that wouldn’t work, babe,” he smiles kindly. “That’s not us. Even if we could somehow escape, we’d spend the rest of our lives thinking about all the what ifs. And we’re not like that...we were born and bred for this, as hard as this life is.”
I nod, reaching for his hand and tangling my fingers on his. He’s right, in more ways than he’d ever know.
“But if we’re gonna do this, we gotta—”
“Hide. Then go on the offensive,” he finishes my sentence. “They don’t expect us to hide. They expect us to run. If we duck out now, they’ll never see it coming.”
“They won’t.”
“We get out, get some cover, get our operation running, and then we strike,” he says to me as I’m nodding. “We’re going to war. The first thing we need to do is make sure we have a place we can plan it from. That means getting to fucking safety.”
“We’ll get through this.” Pulling me into his embrace, he looks straight at me—and in his eyes, I see it all. Lust, ambition, power...love. “Now that I’ve found you, Eliza...I realized something else too.”
“What?”
He makes a pause, runs the tip of his tongue over his lips, and then leans in and kisses me.
“We were born to rule.”
“King and Queen.”
“More than that, Eliza. We’ll be gods.”
Twenty-Eight
Grayson
If I can’t save my baby, then I’m not a fucking man.
There’s just no other way around it.
And every fucking last goddamn criminal out there with a dick bigger than a golf pencil wants our formula.
We have to do whatever it takes.
Three.
That’s how many favors I have left from my guy. Taylor was my buddy. The closest friend I had in the world. But I still have one “guy.” A guy that’s loyal to a point and I have to stretch that point.
Fourteen.
How many hours I can buy us before they figure out that none of the decoys out there are us. That’s gotta be enough time to move the batch, build a new cypher for the formula, destroy the current one, and get the papers we need to get the fuck out of dodge.
Two.
How many orgasms I gave Eliza while we were coming up with our plan.
It helps me think, hearing my woman cum, okay?
Plus, the scent of her on my fingers makes everything they do gold. I figured out exactly how to make several trails — decoy trails, and untraceable trails, so that those fourteen hours are almost guaranteed.
Thirteen.
How long our private jet will be flying to get us the fuck out of dodge.
How many orgasms do you think I can give Eliza then?
We’ll see. Today’s the fucking test of our abilities, for sure, because as much crafty shit as we’re trying to pull, there’s always a bodycount.
Twenty-Nine
Grayson
“They’ve only just now found the first trail. Seems Rafe was able to help quite a bit with taking out the best guys in the business. Maybe even get a few on our side. We’ll know when we can actually catch up with him,” I tell Eliza, stroking her long leg that’s up in my lap.
We’re in a limo right now. I know, what the fuck, am I indulging Eliza’s desperate addiction to luxury right now or what?
But who expects two people on the most dangerous run of their lives to be drinking Bellinis in a fucking shiny, sexy black limo?
Nobody. It isn’t like anyone knows Eliza like I do, either, because pouring peachy flavored booze down her throat in a dangerous situation does nothing but fan her flames.
She’s sucking my cock right now.
You know what they say…danger makes people horny as fuck.
That’s us right now.
We’re headed to the private airfield twenty minutes from the San Diego airport. We need to get out of town. Then we’re going to plan our offensive and hit back at our cartels.
I look at Eliza’s beautiful face, her mascara smudging up and her hair all tousled, and I fucking love her. Not just because she’s swallowing all the cum she’s unloaded from my balls.
Because at the end of the goddamn world, we sure do know how to live well.
She leans back on her knees and looks up at me.
“Don’t wipe that off just yet,” I tell her.
Eliza giggles. Actually giggles.
I love that we have this stolen moment of happiness. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“Cheers, baby,” I tell her, handing her the champagne flute she sat down to service me.
Eliza gets the message, and scoops up the rest of my cum on her face and licks it up. The champagne chaser on the wildest escape yet.
The car comes to a stop and I take my thumbs and help wipe up her mascara while she smooths out her hair.
I kiss her forehead.
“No matter what happens, baby, I’ve got you,” I tell Eliza.
“I know,” Eliza says and gulps. “I heard what you said to Rafe. I’d do anything for you, too,” Eliza tells me.
That’s true. Eliza would. So don’t say I didn’t warn you, because fuck the bodycount, it’s the ones who survive the cartels that truly have the fucked up shit in their lives.
I check my tablet screen.
They really are behind
schedule on discovering us.
We call an Uber from a smartphone burner with a throwaway account, and they take us to the airport where I have a car and a go bag.
I have a go bag—the passport, ID, cash, and essentials for getting the fuck out of dodge—in so many areas in the city, and I hired people to grab all the others, except for this one. So it should keep the cartels off our trail, for a little while.
Everyone’s trying to kill us. We’re looking over our shoulders in the least conspicuous ways that we know how.
But holy fuck, it seems like we might actually make it. All our plans to keep the cartels off our trail for now are fucking working.
“Eliza,” I say, grabbing her. “We fucking did it.”
Thirty
Eliza
Against all odds, we triumphed. We switched out of the limo and got into a Hummer for the last stretch—just in case we were being tracked from the sky. But finally, we’re here.
I don’t want to sound too happy, but it’s hard not to be. Somehow, we’ve managed to elude all those who want our head on a spike, and we’re about to embark in the greatest adventure of both our lives.
Sure, there’s a war to come. But we’ve survived the day, and that’s all that matters right now. Everything we’ve built so far is safe—including both the formula and the batch we’ve produced—and the cartels have no idea where we are...or where we’re going.
“What do you think, Eliza?” Grayson asks me, his eyes focused on the road ahead. In the distance, I can already see the airport, planes cutting through the blue sky and fading away from sight. “Paris? Chiang Mai? Rio?”
“I don’t care,” I reply, and it couldn’t be any more true. “As long as we’re together, anywhere in the world is fine.”
“That’s right.”
“Although,” I laugh, laying my hand on his. “Thailand sounds like fun. Or Indonesia. I sure know I need a break from all this killing and backstabbing. And kicking it back in some paradisiac island, drinking Mai Tais until the beach starts spinning all around me...it doesn’t sound that bad, does it?”
“Bali then.” Squeezing my hand, he then steers the car right and starts driving toward the security post that leads into the airport’s private hangars. On the tarmac ahead, I can already see a tow truck drag a black Gulfstream jet onto the airfield.
In just a few minutes, Grayson and I will be inside that plane. And what happens next...well, I don’t know yet. All I know is that our future lies right ahead, and after that jet takes off no one will be able to put their hands on us. Just to be double careful, we didn’t even settle on a flight plan before taking off.
Until now, of course.
With a quick wave, the security guard waves us inside and Grayson drives straight toward the jet, stopping our Hummer right next to it. The moment we hop out of the car, a young pilot in his thirties comes out to greet us.
“Mr. Teague?”
“In the flesh,” Grayson replies, shaking the pilot’s hand as he starts giving us the rundown of the procedures we need to take care of before the flight. A minute later and the pilot heads back inside the private jet, ready to start his preparations on a long distance flight to Bali.
God, I can’t wait till I’m lying down on pure white sand, Grayson’s hands all over me. I swear, I’m going to have so much sex this coming week that I’ll need to put my pussy on ice next to the champagne.
“We’re ready for you, sir,” the pilot calls us from atop the stairs that lead into the jet’s entrance. Smiling at each other, we hold hands and start walking up the stairs.
Ahead of us, a new life.
There’s still a lot to be done, and as soon as our drug hits the market all hell is going to break loose. But that lies ahead. For now, I just want to savor the moment and the small victory we managed to steal out of destiny’s hands.
“I love you, Grayson,” I whisper at him, and he leans in and lays a kiss on my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair over my ear.
“I lo—”
His words die on his throat as we hear a loud sound coming from the security outpost. We both turn around to see ten black SUVs drive right past the security fences, their tires burning fast as they head toward us.
“START THE PLANE!” Grayson screams toward the pilot, pulling me inside the jet.
“Oh, Mr. Teague, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the pilot replies morosely.
“What the fuck are you talking about? We gotta leave right fucking now!”
“But what’s the rush?” He chuckles, reaching inside his jacket and pointing at Glock at us. “Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he snaps at us as Grayson reaches behind his back for the gun he has tucked on his belt.
I grab Grayson’s arm, my fingernails digging deep into his skin as fear takes over me.
We’ve been found.
“Now, step out of the plane before I have to shoot your lady friend,” the pilot continues, taking one step toward us. Grayson retreats slowly, and we exit the plane; atop the stairs, I look down to see a small fleet of black SUVs surrounding the plane, dozens of men leaving their cars. And all of them are packing guns.
“This is the end of the road for the two of you. Now get down there.”
As we go down the stairs, I feel my heart sink into my stomach. I feel nauseous, and my knees are trembling. I don’t even know how I manage to climb down all these fucking stairs. But, somehow, I pull it off.
One of the men walks toward Grayson and takes the gun on his belt off, and while the other two frisk us, checking our bodies for hidden weapons. My God, if I knew this were how things were going to end I would have brought a suicide vest with me—they would’ve bought me down all the same, but that way I’d make sure I’d drag everyone around me straight into hell.
“Grayson…”
His name is the only thing I can say right now. We’re doomed. There’s no escape. Tears start biting at my eyes, and I grit my teeth to stop them from coming.
“Eliza...I...I’m sorry,” he tells me, pulling me into his embrace and hugging me tight.
“Look at the two lovebirds,” I hear a voice say from behind us. Slowly, Grayson and I break apart to watch as a man in a burgundy suit walks straight at us, a lit cigar in his hand. “Grayson Teague, you’re a man full of surprises. First, you reveal yourself as a traitorous dog...and then you turn into a maricón, huh?”
“Fuck you, Zario.”
Zario? The head of the Bonita Muerte Cartel?
I thought we were in deep shit, but only now do I realize the truth…
We’re way beyond fucked.
Thirty-One
Eliza
“You really shouldn’t have fucked with me,” Zario says, spitting in my direction.
The warehouse is like someone who read about cartels designed it for this scene. It’s fucking gruesome…I can’t imagine anything but murder and torture happening here.
The perfect place for Zario to take us and fucking kill us. He said something about being on his way to do something else.
Is it wrong that some small part of me is around to be irritated that there’s something more important out there for him to do than just killing us? Like I should be the starring role of my own fucking murder.
Anyhow, now’s not the time for whining.
“All you bitches get out of here,” Zario tells his four men. Rafe, Grayson, and I are slammed up against the wall, pushed down to our knees.
And, that’s it. Zario is going to kill us fucking execution style. Shoot us and just like that, we’re done for. Fuck our happily ever after.
But that’s when Zario pulls Grayson up, chaining him to the wall.
Zario pulls my hair, and make me stand up, shoving me against the wall next to him.
I need to do something. I have a plan. It helps that I’m not bound by honor to anyone.
“Wait,” I say quickly and he looks at me.
Grayson doesn’t look at me. I know what he’s thinking. He's
getting himself ready.
“The formula is yours,” I tell Zario. I don’t say this with any terror in my voice.
“Bullshit,” Zario says but Rafe sees what I’m about to do and jumps in.
“Test the batch, I have a bump in my pocket,” Rafe adds.
Why does he have that?
Now I see rage spread over Grayson’s face, and I know what I need to do.
“You’d sell out your lover?” Zario asks me, his eyes looking me up and down. I can see him stare at tits.
“I’ve never been in love till now,” I say truthfully. “But there’s something else I love more than Grayson.”
Pause.
I can tell Zario is wondering what I could love more than my handsome sicario.
“Myself,” I say quietly.
Another pause.
And then laughter. Zario can’t control himself.
“Little bitch too addicted to the finer things in life, huh?” he asks me. I don’t answer.
"I’ll show you how to make the formula. Own the fucking coke game, Zario, like no one else can,” I sell.
“Shut your fucking mouth, bitch, or I’ll fuck it quiet,” Zario says to me, grinning lewdly with the kind of self-satisfied smile that tells me that this wasn’t just an expression. He’d do it.
It looks like Rafe is going to kill Zario right now if Grayson doesn’t get to him first.
Except for the part where Grayson is chained up in the warehouse Zario took us to. He can’t help me.
Zario gets Rafe’s little sample out, and I stand tall.
Rafe and I exchange looks, and I hope he got me asking about backup. He made a face that looked a hell of a lot like, no.
No we can’t call them in yet is what I’m hoping for.
Don't Trust Him: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Suspense (King Vs. Queen Book 1) Page 12