by Sybil Bartel
I reached behind my seat for my extra piece, magazines, and silencer I kept in a go bag in the truck. “This.” I dumped the bag on the center console. “Also a pair of fins and comms.”
Preston shut down his tablet and took the bag. “Anything else?”
“Throw in a burner phone if you have one.”
“Done.” He shouldered the bag and reached for the door lock.
“One more favor?”
Preston paused, but he didn’t look at me.
“If anything happens, bring my truck back and give it to my sister. She knows where the title is.”
“Done.” He got out and closed the door without further comment. But before he took off, he stared at me for a moment with a somber expression. Then he tipped his chin and walked away.
I pulled out of my garage.
THE SENSATION OF GAGGING WOKE me in a sheer panic. I opened my eyes and jerked my arms. Pain lanced into my wrists, and I tried to kick out, but the same sensation cut into my ankles as I choked on my own saliva.
A gag in my mouth, my wrists and ankles bound, I tried to turn my head, but I couldn’t even move that.
Fear burned down my throat and mixed with impotent rage as I sucked in air through my nose.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Santos walked into the room and lifted the hem of my dress as the sun fell into the ocean.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t move.
I could only glare.
Long shadows cut across his severe face. “Finally decided to wake up, huh?” He smiled, revealing uneven teeth.
I wanted to kick him in the mouth.
He shoved my already hiked-up dress further up my thigh. “Still not talking, I see.” His smile graduated to a grin as he tested the restraint across my forehead. “Or moving.”
The stench of fear, blood and depravity filled the room, and my stomach rolled as bone-deep cold settled in to my soul.
I blinked twice.
He laughed. “No, you’re not awake?”
He was going to rape me, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
He trailed a finger up my thigh. “You look awake to me, bitch.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “In fact, you look like you’re asking for it.”
I blinked twice, not wanting to grant him so much as a grunt.
His evil brown-eyed gaze on me, he shoved my dress over one hip. “I think you mean yes.”
If by yes, he meant that I was going to kill him when the restraints came off, then yes. That’s exactly what I meant. I was going to watch him take his last breath out of his putrid mouth.
His insipid chuckle filled the darkening bedroom again. “Oh, puppet, I think we’re both going to enjoy this.”
He hooked a thumb in my underwear and yanked them halfway down my thighs.
My back bowed and pain cut into my wrists and ankles, but I didn’t cry out. I wouldn’t. No matter what, I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
“That’s it.” He pulled out a knife and sawed my underwear until the material ripped. “Go ahead and fight me.” Leering down at me, he tossed my panties aside. “It only turns me on more.” Leaning a knee on the bed and shoving my dress over my bra, he ran his hand over my stomach then drew a finger between my legs.
I remembered it the same time he felt it.
He smirked. “What’s this?” He tugged on the tampon string.
Wild rage overrode all my fear, and I yanked on my leg restraints hard.
The wood-framed poster bed rattled, and Santos moved.
Gripping a handful of my hair, he pulled it until my scalp burned then he brought his face an inch above mine. “You think this will stop me?” The pressure on the string tightened. “You. Are. Wrong.” He yanked the tampon out in one sharp, fast jerk.
“Santos!” My uncle snapped from the living room.
“What?” Santos yelled back, tossing the tampon behind him without taking his eyes off me.
“Get out here.”
Wet leaked between my legs.
“Busy.” Santos twisted my nipple through my bra, and bile rose.
“Now.”
Gripping my throat, Santos squeezed just hard enough to make my eyes water. “Wait for me, puppet.”
He got up and walked out.
My nostrils flared, and I arched my back, yanking on every single one of my restraints. The bed rattled, wet speared underneath me, and I pulled on my arms until a small squeak of pain escaped my throat.
But nothing budged.
SHOULDERING MY BAG, I STEPPED off the boat.
Strapped with two 9mm in holsters under each arm, Addis came walking down the dock.
“Your asshole lackey took my phone,” I bitched by way of greeting, purposely not taking in the four guards in my peripheral. “Then he patted me down and scanned me. Little fucking paranoid, don’t you think?” I didn’t bother mentioning the blood smears on the deck leading to the cabin. You didn’t get fired in this line of work, you got a bullet between the eyes. I was betting the reason Addis needed a warm body was because there was a cold one below deck.
Addis scanned the shoreline, then the dock before looking me in the eye. “It’s protocol. Sorry we were running behind.” He held his hand out. “Good to see you.”
I crossed my arms on purpose. “Your man was three hours late. That’s not running behind.” I’d waited in my truck near the dock on the mainland, knowing full well I was being watched until they decided I wasn’t being followed or bringing my own damn company along for the ride.
Addis dropped his hand. “Something came up.”
I threw down the kind of attitude I was known for. “Don’t waste my time again. You either have a job for me or you don’t.”
He sighed like he was stressed the fuck out, but not with me. “I got a job all right.” He tipped his chin toward the main house I’d seen in the aerial photos. “This way.”
I took an exaggerated scan of the dock, the small beach and miles of ocean surrounding us. I could barely make out the spoil island behind the next island south of us where Christensen’s boat was supposed to be anchored come nightfall. “Nice fucking view,” I said dryly, suddenly wanting off this forsaken place surrounded by water and crawling with fucked-up vibes.
“You’ve never been here before?” Addis asked, testing me.
“You know we were both here once with Nathan.” Our old boss had armed us to the hilt, and we’d cruised down in a borrowed yacht in the middle of the night and picked up so many fucking bags of cash that I wouldn’t have been surprised if we’d loaded fifty million on the boat that night. “Looks better at sunset than the dead of night.”
Addis nodded. “Seems like that was a lifetime ago.”
A shit life I was lucky to get out of. Our old boss was violent as fuck, but he didn’t hold a candle to the rumors I’d heard about Dante. Addis would be lucky if he made it out alive. “Just another paycheck,” I quipped, downplaying it as I spotted three more guards spaced out in front of the house.
Addis didn’t comment as he headed toward a set of stairs leading up to the second-floor deck on the house.
I waited till we were on the steps before I went fishing. “For a place that’s surrounded by water on all sides, you’ve got a lot of hardware walking around.”
Addis paused midstep and turned. Dropping his voice, he leveled me with a look. “You want to keep breathing here, you don’t ask stupid questions. For now, Dante’s in residence, and I’ll introduce you. Then you’ll pick a fucking rifle and man your post. You want to collect a paycheck, drop the attitude. You want to live to see another sunrise, drop the questions. Understood?”
I almost smiled. “Getting a backbone, I see.”
His nostrils flared. “Don’t make me regret hiring you.”
He was gonna regret it all right, sooner rather than later. I tipped my chin toward the deck. “Lead the way.” I was fucking twitching without a piece in my hand.
Staring
me down a moment longer to piss in the sand, he finally turned and went up the rest of the stairs. He nodded at a guard outside the slider door. “Tavish, this is Ty, our new guy.”
Wearing aviators after sunset like a fucking tool and holding his rifle one-handed like a civilian, the prick sized me up like I was dog shit.
I didn’t hesitate.
I slammed my hand down on the barrel of his rifle at the same time as I grabbed the stock and twisted. Flipping the M16 around faster than the shocked idiot could grab for it, I tucked it under my arm and aimed dead center at his forehead. Then I did the fucking tool a favor and taught him a lesson.
“You don’t hold your weapon like you’re holding your dick. You cradle the motherfucker like your life depends on it.” Pissing on whatever pecking order Addis had going on, I flipped the rifle back around and held it out for him.
Livid, Tavish snatched it back from me.
Knowing I was right, or too pissed off to speak, Addis didn’t comment. He opened the slider door and walked the fuck inside.
Daring the tool Tavish to say shit to me, I gave him a look, then followed Addis.
In the middle of the living room stood the cartel’s magic maker, and he was smiling at me. “Well, well, well.”
Fucking Dante Cortez.
Wearing a suit, a smirk and an attitude, the sleazy prick eyed me as he handed me his play on a silver platter. “That was quite a show, Mr. Asher.”
Pissed the motherfucker knew my last name, I laid it back on him. “It was a lesson, Dante Orazco Cortez,” I said, throwing out the part of his last name he never used because it linked him to his mother’s family who was heavy into law enforcement in his country.
His head cocked, and he eyed me. “Any other tricks up your sleeve?”
The fucker needed to die. “Plenty.”
He laughed and glanced at Addis. “You brought him in?”
Looking like he was going to shit himself, Addis swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
Cupping his elbow with one hand as he scratched his chin with the other, Dante looked out the slider at the prick on the deck. “What do you think his punishment should be?”
“Sir?” Addis asked nervously.
Fuck this bullshit.
I grabbed the 9mm out of Addis’s left holster, flipped the safety and fired off one shot.
The bullet bit through the tinted glass slider and Tavish dropped dead to the deck with a hole in the back of his head.
I shoved the gun back in Addis’s holster and looked at Dante. “He was a liability.”
Addis sucked in a panicked breath.
Dante didn’t even blink. “Agreed, but that was an expensive, impact-resistant slider door.”
“Take it out of my bonus,” I clipped.
Dante almost smiled. “Bonus?”
“Yeah, twenty-five grand upfront for agreeing to come here and clean your shit up. You have three guards in front of the house, four by the dock, and probably another half a dozen posted around the island, but you know what not one of those fucking rent-a-guards did?”
“Not half a dozen, eight,” Dante corrected. “But go on.”
“Not a single fucking one did their job.” I paused, waiting to see if he would pick up on the fatal flaw of his bullshit guards.
Dante made a keep-going gesture with his hand. “By all means, enlighten me.”
I dropped my duffle on the coffee table. “No one searched my bag.”
Dante’s sharp glare cut to Addis.
Addis put a hand up. “He was searched at the mainland dock before he got on the boat.”
Turning to Addis, I threw him under the bus. “Did you actually see the face of the captain manning the boat as we pulled up?” His ball cap was pulled low, and he was so fucking preoccupied with whatever mess was below deck that he was heading for the cabin the second he’d gotten the boat tied down. He didn’t even acknowledge Addis. “You sure it was the same guy you sent to get me?”
Addis whipped his cell out and turned his back as he dialed before talking in an angry, hushed tone.
I looked at Dante and raised an eyebrow.
Dante nodded. “You’ve made your point, Mr. Asher.”
“Have I?” I went for broke. “A well-trained guard is worth five of the assholes you have out here, Addis excluded.”
“Let me guess, you’re offering to train them for a price,” Dante asked dryly.
“No.” I suddenly had a much better fucking plan. “I’ll bring in better men.”
Dante was shaking his head before I had the last words out. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not only a cautious man, Mr. Asher, I’m a smart man. I see what you’re attempting to do.”
I managed to look affronted. “What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do besides get better-trained men here so I don’t get shot in the back by some asshole who doesn’t know how the hell to aim, let alone hold a rifle.”
“My men here are loyal to me,” Dante countered.
Smelling a trap, I dished out the truth. “They’re as loyal as a paycheck.”
Addis hung up his phone and turned back around. “Sir, there’s no problem on the docks, or with your captain.”
I didn’t say shit. I didn’t have to. The seed was already planted. I’d gotten Dante to question Addis, and that was the best I could hope for. I wanted to find out where the fuck they were keeping Ludeviene without raising any suspicions, and the best way to do that was to be put in charge of some of the security around here and have an excuse to canvass. The sooner I got her the fuck out of here, the better.
Looking put out with Addis, Dante glanced with disgust at the body on the deck. “Take care of that, then make sure the yacht is ready.” He looked at me. “Have Addis introduce you to the other men. You’re going to stay here while I take a business meeting, and you’ll report to me every hour, on the hour.”
“I don’t have a phone, your captain took it.”
Dante held up a finger and continued as if I hadn’t said shit. “When I get back, after I’ve checked all the security feeds, and if I find everything to my satisfaction, then we’ll discuss your twenty-thousand-dollar bonus.”
“I said twenty-five grand.”
“And I said twenty, which should be more than enough for your sister to finish paying off her nursing degree.”
Blinding rage shot through every nerve in my body. It took all of my self-control to not move a fucking muscle.
Dante smiled. “As I said, Mr. Asher, I’m a cautious man.” He straightened his cuffs. “I make it a point to always know who I’m dealing with.” Smiling, he emphasized always.
Fucked five ways from Sunday, I ground out three words. “Twenty-five grand.” I told myself he hadn’t mentioned Nash, so he may not know about him, but that would only be a matter of time if he went after Mercy. This motherfucker was dead. So fucking dead.
Dante patted me on the shoulder. “Yes, well, take care of my houseguest, and if nothing happens to her while Addis and I are gone, then rest assured nothing will happen to your sister.”
“You touch my sister, and I’ll kill you.” Cartel or not, I wasn’t gonna let this asshole’s comment slide.
Dante chuckled as he looked over my shoulder toward a hallway and raised his voice. “Santos!” He looked back at me. “If you don’t fuck up, we’ll discuss salary when I get back.”
“What?” Someone called from down the hall.
Dante snapped an order at whatever asshole guard was down the hall. “Get out here.”
“Busy,” the Santos prick yelled back.
“Now,” Dante warned before looking back at me. “Fair warning, it isn’t only outside threats you’re going to have to protect my asset from.” He chuckled. “Santos is quite the handful. Creative, but nonetheless a handful.” His gaze narrowed. “But do not shoot him.”
“Who’s the asset?” I demanded, knowing damn well who it was.
Dante smiled like the piranha he was. “A lovely young paycheck.”
A muscled thug with crazy-as-fuck eyes came down the hall and walked into the living room. Ignoring me, he went right for Dante like a well-trained dog. “What’s up, boss?”
“Santos, meet Ty Asher.” Nodding at me, Dante gave the fuck my full name. “Mr. Asher is going to be in charge of security while Addis and I take care of some business this evening. Give him your phone for the next couple hours.”
With blood on his first two fingers, Santos reached in his pocket, yanked out a cell, and held it out to me while looking at Dante. “Anything else? I was just about to have some fun.”
I looked at the phone, but I didn’t take it. “Who’s the blood belong to?”
“Santos,” Dante warned, glancing at his hand. “You know the rules.”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know.” The asshole nodded. “I don’t leave any visible marks anymore.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Dante sighed, Addis looked like he was going to have a fucking aneurism, and Santos shook the phone at me.
“Here, take it.”
I crossed my arms. “Clean that shit off first.”
Turning his gaze to me for the first time, I saw his dilated pupils, but more, he had a look I’d seen too many times downrange. This fuck had lost his shit a long time ago.
Wiping the phone on his pants with an exaggerated gesture, he held it back out to me.
Staring at Dante, I took the phone, but then I made a calculated risk.
I dialed the last burner number I remembered for Luna, praying he still had the phone.
Luna answered on the second ring in Spanish. “Que pasa?”
“Hey, it’s Asher.” I purposely used my last name. Luna knew I never used it. “You still looking for work?”
Luna switched back to English. “Depends.”
“On what?” I asked.
Dante snatched the phone out of my hand and put it on speaker. “Yes, by all means, tell us what it depends on.”
Luna paused. “Who the fuck is that, Asher?”
Glaring at Dante, I answered. “Your new boss if I have to kill the motherfucker currently standing next to me.”
Dante chuckled as Santos went ballistic, lunging for the phone. “What the fuck?”