River grabbed my shoulders. “Now, what happened just then?”
“I hit the bag?” I shook my arm out, trying to loosen it up and stop the pain.
He shook his head. “No. You bitch-slapped the bag. I want you to really HIT the bag. When you hit something, you follow through with your whole body. You don’t just slap the bag around – you smash your glove through the bag. Now—” He stood there, hands on hips. “Do it again.”
I grunted, and returned to my pose. River turned the music up with the small remote in his hand. “Go, Mack. Put your body into it. Through the bag.”
I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, and it was far too early in the damn morning to start arguing. I swung my arm out as I got closer to the bag and connected with it. This time, it didn’t hurt as much.
“Good, getting there. Get up close and personal with the bag, Mack, and imagine you’re pushing it as you punch.”
I did, and the bag swung away from me. And then it swung back and hit me in the chest, throwing me backwards onto my arse. As I sat there on the floor, River’s laughter met my ears. So did someone else’s whoop of amusement. I turned and saw Chase standing at the doorway, amusement evident on his face. I bit my lip in embarrassment, closed my eyes, and lay back on the floor. Typical fucking timing. I could feel the blush crawling up my neck to my face, and knew that it would be in full force by the time I opened my eyes.
“When did you get back?” I heard River ask.
“A few hours ago. I ended up driving back down.”
“Mission accomplished?”
I opened my eyes to see Chase shake his head. “Not really. Yes, Osiel Ramirez is done, but Alicio Mendoza is here now, so I followed him back.” He looked down at me with amusement, and extended his hand.
My stomach exploded with fluttering as my fingers wrapped around his, and I had to take a deep breath as he effortlessly lifted me to my feet. “Thank you.”
Chase smiled, his aqua eyes locking with mine. “You’re welcome. So…” He raised an eyebrow at River. “You’re teaching her how to box?”
River laughed. “Not really. More teaching her a few self-defence moves just in case she needs them.”
What? I put my hands on my hips. “I thought you were teaching me how to fight?”
Chase put his hand on my bare arm, and I felt my skin tingle. “Mack, he is teaching you, but let me tell you, it takes years for someone to become an advanced fighter. And they can still lose.” He glanced at River “So what he’s teaching you? It’s probably enough to get you out of a situation and then run. That would be my advice anyway.”
“And that’s what I’m doing,” River commented. “You’re going to have to learn how to get yourself out of a compromising situation, and then run.”
I looked between the both of them. “Or I could just shoot my way out.”
Chase laughed. “You could indeed.” He looked at River. “Mind if I take her off your hands for a while? I think she should come and train with me for the morning.” He smiled. My pulse raced.
“Be my guest.” River chuckled.
Chase took me down towards his bedroom, and my nerves went wild. “What are we doing?” I asked, choking the question out.
He smiled coyly at me. “Well – I’m going to get changed into something a bit more comfortable, and then I thought we would go and see a little scenery.”
We walked into his bedroom, a suite just as lavish as my own.
“Take a seat,” he said as he disappeared into his closet. He pulled a couple of things out, and walked through to the bathroom. I could see his reflection of the mirror as he stripped his top off. My mouth went dry, and I turned away, trying to become interested in something else. Anything else.
Moments later, he emerged dressed in shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes. “Oh dear God,” I muttered under my breath. I picked up a design magazine and started leafing through the pages. I wasn’t paying attention to the pages as I turned them. I was more curious as to why Chase had design magazines. I thought he would be more into men’s health magazines, or maybe even some of the luxury goods magazines, given the way he dressed. This design magazine showed him in a different light.
“What?” he asked, as he transferred his glasses for contact lenses.
He’d just caught me gazing at him, but I hadn’t really been ogling, thank God – I was just watching him more out of curiosity, “Nothing.”
“So, I read River’s entire file when I got in. You two have been busy. Nicandro and Alvarez at the ball, huh?”
“Huh,” I murmured. “Yeah.” I looked up at him. “Was Gabe back when you got home?” I asked, suddenly remembering that Gabe had spent the evening with Carmen.
Chase grinned. “No. I picked him up on my way through.” He walked towards the door and then turned back to me. “You coming?”
I jumped up after him, and he took me down the hallway, and out towards the back of the house. We went down a set of stairs, and Chase opened a door out to a small terraced garden area. “I like it out here,” he commented. “I thought River was mad when he first bought this place, but we needed a base in Central America, so it was ideal really.”
“So where are we going now?” I eyed the stone pathway in front of us.
“For a run,” he said with a grin as he stretched. Oh my god. Before I knew it, he had started jogging down the pathway, and I was scrambling to catch up. I hated running. I was never very good at sports, and athletics had proven to be embarrassing moment after embarrassing moment for me during school. In the sprints I would trip over my shoelaces, I would crash through hurdles, and don’t even get me started on the high-jumps they used to make us do. That was probably one of the core reasons why I chose a profession where very little movement was required. Yes, being an historian required me to rifle through archives, and hang out in libraries, and every now and then I went to an historical site – but the majority of the time I was sitting on my arse writing. It was the way I liked it.
We ran down the hill and out towards the coast. The downhill part wasn’t so bad, but once we hit the flat area, my lungs started to burn, and I was quickly regretting the number of cigarettes I had smoked lately.
Chase ran effortlessly without even breaking into a sweat. For all I knew, he did this every day. I didn’t want to do this for much longer. Chase noticed that I was starting to lag behind him, and slowed down a little to allow me to catch up. Once I reached him, I bent over and gulped for air for a few moments. “Jesus,” I wheezed. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He leant back against a fence and watched me with a grin. “You need to get in training. That’s all there is to it. So, for the next few days I’m going to bring you out running every morning until you’ve built a bit of stamina up. Then you can resume your self-defence fight training with River.” He sighed a little. “And then… depending on how you go, I’ll start teaching you some more finesse around your fight moves.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled.
He started walking. “Come on – we’ll take it slowly from here to give you a break, and then we’ll pick it up again.”
Taking it ‘slowly’ didn’t really cut it for me. My heart was still thumping in my chest, and I would have loved for someone to drive down the road and pick me up right now, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I reluctantly followed after him, and fell into step.
“I need to track Alicio Mendoza today, if you’d like to come with me.”
I stayed silent as images of the man flashed up in my mind, and I swallowed.
“Come on, Mack.” Chase slapped my upper arm lightly. “This will do you good.”
“Yeah…right.” I didn’t want to meet Mendoza any time soon not knowing how violent he was. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”
Chase smiled. “Possibly. I was getting Gabe to look at a few things for me this morning, so hopefully he’s come up with something.”
The Mexican morning heat was starting to get to me, and I seri
ously wanted a drink, anything liquid would do. We reached the coast, and made our way down the sand dune area to the beach. The tide was out, and the sand stretched for miles in front of us towards the States. The sea breeze cooled me down significantly, but I had an overwhelming desire to jump in the water and cool down properly. I was never much of a swimmer when I was younger either.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Chase said once we reached the water's edge.
I turned to him. "What's that?"
"How are you coping with all of this ... stuff?" His sharp eyes scrutinised me, and I turned back to the sea.
I shrugged. "I don't know. It's all going so fast. I have this crazy psycho woman who wants to kill me, and the chance of me getting out of Mexico alive is kinda dwindling..." I took a deep breath. I refused to cry in front of Chase. "And then there is all this other rubbish happening, which appears to be keeping me thoroughly distracted. I've never really seen anyone die before, you know. Well... apparently I saw my parents die, but my mind has kind of blocked that trauma out. Not like now," I added, the images of both Regina and Filipo as they died flashed through my mind.
Chase put a hand on my shoulder. "I've never really had the pleasure of being as innocent as you, Mack. My first kill was my abusive step-father when I was eleven years old."
I turned to him wide-eyed, shocked that one; he was telling me something about himself, which was pretty damn rare, and two; about his step-father. "You killed him?"
Chase nodded, the breeze ruffling his hair and he stared out towards the ocean. "It was an accident, actually. But they still put me into a penitentiary system for boys. I haven't seen my mother since. I looked her up a few times over the years, and I’ve seen her from a distance, but never engaged with her."
He kicked at the sand with his shoes for a bit, and I stayed silent.
"She never protected me from him. That was her one job, and she failed." He ran his hands through his hair. "I understood how she had failed me as a child... more so once I was in the system. All of the other boys in there had been failed by their parents as well at some point or another. A group of us started training in martial arts as a way to protect ourselves in the future. I vowed never to allow anyone have that sort of power over me ever again."
I sucked in a breath. "And then what?"
Chase shrugged and smiled at me. "I was recruited. I trained incredibly hard, won a lot of competitions, and then one day my teacher came to me and introduced me to another man, Archer. He said that he required a diversion." He paused. "I guess a bit like how we recruited you, actually." He smiled. "Anyway, he needed a boy with my fighting skill. I was thrown into a competition ring of street fighters - all bigger and older than me. I should have lost that day, and in a way, I did. I lost my innocence... the very same innocence that you're still trying to hold onto."
"You killed someone?"
Chase took a deep breath. "Yes, but not in the ring. After the competition, I went searching for Archer, and found him upstairs in a standoff with another man. Archer wasn't in good shape at all, and for some reason - I liked him. If I understood anything about being in a youth penitentiary, it was that teamwork and trust were crucial to achieving any goal. So I intervened. Somehow, I managed to throw the best kick in my career, and I kicked Archer's opponent backwards. He fell against a big window, and he went through it." Chase went quiet for a moment. "Don't get me wrong. I knew what I was doing. I was a trained fighter, and I knew the power behind the kick. But I also knew that Archer probably wasn't going to leave that room alive if I didn't do something to protect him."
"Wow," I murmured. "That was a hell of a thing to do for someone you didn't really know."
Chase turned to me, his eyes cutting directly to mine. "I did my job. Archer paid me a hefty sum of money after that, and I joined his business. You see... Archer was a contract killer. What I didn't know at the time was that he was also very sick, dying of cancer. He hid it well from me. In a way, Archer became the father that I never really had, and I craved his approval."
"You trained under him," I commented.
Chase nodded. "Yes I did. I soaked up everything he taught me. When Archer died two years later, I was seventeen, and the sole inheritor of his estate. I never wanted anything from him but for him to teach me. Instead, he gave me a whole new life, but in the same breath - it was a life where I took others."
We started walking back towards the sand dunes, towards the house. "So what happened after you lost him?"
Chase shrugged. "I don't know. I was pretty depressed, but I eventually turned back to martial arts training, and re-centred myself. If martial art gives you anything, it’s centring. I booked myself a holiday to Tokyo on my first fake passport, and trained under an Aikido master for two years. I lived and breathed everything that the old man taught me, and then before I turned twenty, I decided that it was time to come home."
We paused at the edge of the dunes, and Chase let me climb up them first. After a few fumbles and clumsy moments, I managed to get to the top, and as I caught my breath, I turned to watch him effortlessly scale them behind me.
I held out my hand for him to step up the last bit. "Thanks." He grinned. "So I went home... and I started recruiting. I actually got two of the boys who I was in the youth penitentiary with to join me. But they were young. I had seen so much that they hadn't, and the divide between us became evident. After a while, they left me to go partying, and hook up with women." Chase smirked at the memory. "And once again I was on my own. So I linked up with two of Archer's old contacts, and I ran about with them for a little while. Eventually, I started to make my own contacts, but business was slow. People don't want to employ an amateur assassin. They want to contract professionals. So I knew that while the few kills I had would keep food on the table for a while, I needed to up my game."
We crossed the road, and made our way towards the house. I was utterly enthralled by Chase's story. I knew deep down that Chase wasn't such a bad person. Yes, he killed people for money, but it was the only profession he knew. He hadn't come from a good loving family like I had. He'd came from the streets.
"River actually found me, in the end. I was a job for him. MI6 didn't want people running about interfering with their missions, so they had a crackdown on the assassins based in England. River was one of the spies in the team." Chase smiled as he remembered. "You know, he's a few years older than me. But he took a liking to me. Between us, a bond formed. River saw that I needed a more professional approach, and he took it upon himself to give that to me. I had the money and collateral from Archer's estate behind me - River had the technical knowledge. He retired from MI6, and joined me. We’ve been working together now for more than ten years and never once have I questioned his judgement or his skills."
I smiled. "He's your best friend," I commented. Any fool could see how close those two were. They never did anything without consulting the other. I knew that the first time that I saw them in a room together. That was the night River let me live. And the reason I was here now.
I looked up at Chase, who quirked his lip as his eye caught mine. "Yes, River is my best friend. So is Gabe. We are an elite, professional team, and we get the job done." He blew out a slow breath. "Most of the time, our marks don't even know that we're there. I feel it’s more humane that way."
I snorted. "Yeah, well... whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart," I muttered.
Chase laughed. "Death is death. Luckily for us, we don't do death unless we get paid well for it. Gone are the days where I would take jobs just for the money. Now I choose what I want to do."
We reached the gate at the bottom of River's property, and started up the little pathway that we’d run down earlier. "So, if you earn so much, then why not retire?" I thought of the sheer amount of money they were being paid to take out the El Diablo Cartel members.
Chase nodded. "Yes. It pays well. River, Gabe, and I have all made our retirement fund, and it's been put aside and locked down. When
the time comes that one of us want out of this business, we’ve decided that we’ll close up shop. But we’re not ready for that step in our lives yet."
"Wow," I commented, stunned by the commitment they had to each other.
Chase laughed. "That's the nature of the business, though, Mack. To quote Alexandre Dumas, 'All for one, one for all.'" As we reached the small courtyard area, he added, "And after rising from nothing... I wouldn't have it any other way. Would you?"
* * *
"So, tell me - how was Carmen last night?" I asked Gabe as soon as I walked into the dining room with a fresh cup of coffee. Gabe was looking a little worse for wear, but I refused to feel sorry for him.
"I did it for you, you know."
I shook my head. "Don't use me as your excuse. So, how was she?"
"I didn't sleep with her, if that's what you're implying. She loaded me with tequila and tried to get into my pants a few times, but she was constantly interrupted. Thank god," he muttered.
"Interrupted? By whom?" River asked as he joined the conversation. He gave me a small smirk. I was still slightly annoyed at him about the whole 'self-defence' thing.
Gabe sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "By special deliveries." His eyes flicked to mine, and I was immediately overcome by the sinking feeling of dread.
"What sort?"
Gabe shook his head. "Ugh. Heads, actually. Three more were delivered to Carmen last night." Gabe scrubbed his hands through his hair, and his eyes found mine again. "Don't look at me like that, Mack, I didn't have anything to do with it. I saw one, and the whole thing was so revolting I had to force myself not to throw up. Carmen, though,” he exhaled loudly, “she's septic about Rachel White."
My mouth went dry, and I could feel the fear rising within me. Three more heads? That meant that there were another three bodies out there somewhere. A part of me wanted to know who those women were, but the other part wished that I could just hide in a hole somewhere and forget about this whole ordeal.
I stood up and reached for my cigarettes. Once I was out in the sun on the patio overlooking the coast, I started to think. I had to get out of fucking Mexico. These people weren't going to stop until they found me. I couldn't get near Carmen even if I wanted to right now, and if I got close to her, I would probably be dead within moments.
Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1) Page 7