Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1)

by Leigh K. Hunt

  Chase gave him a cold smile “Does that matter?”

  Osvaldo turned his attention to me. “But I do know you,” he said as he looked me over. “Yes …” He mused.

  I watched him, my lips pursed. He was right. He did know me; as Rachel White. I looked down at him. He was stocky looking, clean, his corporate white shirt marred by the bright red blood seeping from the gun wound to his arm. The last time I had seen him he had two women flanking him when he met with Javier in a private club. I was, naturally, Javier’s companion that night. Most of what had been said I hadn’t understood as they spoke Spanish, and I was more distracted by the finger that Javier had been trailing up my bare thigh.

  “You look different, Rachel,” Osvaldo said, amusement lacing his tone. He looked pointedly at my hair and licked his lips. “Red suits you.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered. Osvaldo had been pleasant the last time I met him. He still maintained that air about him, despite the situation.

  A scuffle in the hallway diverted our attention, giving Osvaldo the chance he needed. He stood up and launched himself at Chase. Chase reacted instantly, turning to deflect the blow. The pair of them crashed into the desk. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to do something. I don’t know why Chase hadn’t just shot him to begin with.

  Gun shots sounded from the hallway, and I heard a thud. I turned to the door, and raised my weapon, preparing to defend us against whatever came through that door. I was not going to die in this fucking dirty, old warehouse. Granted, I knew I might not have a choice in the matter, but I could only try. Something hit the door, and my finger landed on the trigger ready and waiting. Out of the corner of my eye, Chase was still grappling Osvaldo. They were fairly evenly matched, while Osvaldo was shorter than Chase, he was stockier.

  Something thudded against the office door again, causing me to flinch and redirect my attention back to it. The worst thing was that I had no idea what or who was going to come through that door. Or even when. The anticipation was killing me. The sounds of a struggle met my ears, and I frowned. My reasoning told me that River was out there, or else we would have cartel members through those doors in seconds.

  “What do you want from me?” Osvaldo exhaled hard, as Chase reached for him again.

  I saw Chase shake his head. “Not much.”

  “I’ll cut you a deal.” I heard Osvaldo say. “Anything you want.”

  Chase sneered at him. “A deal? The only deal I’ll make is that if you stop being difficult, I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

  A part of me believed it, but the other part of me didn’t. I could tell Chase was damn frustrated and more than pissed off. He had dark scratch marks down his neck from where Osvaldo had tried to throttle him, and he was covered in blood. I did a quick assessment, and deduced it wasn’t his, but Osvaldo’s, from the bullet wound. Someone fired a gun just outside the room, and my heart raced. My hands were clammy from gripping the gun so tightly, but I didn’t dare let go to momentarily wipe them.

  River burst through the door, his eyes met mine. Relief flooded me, and I relaxed my grip on the gun. He took in the scene before him instantly, and raised his weapon. He let off a bullet, and the big plate glass window behind us shattered. The sound of tinkling glass raining down on me made me move quickly away from the window. River crossed the room is about three strides, throwing Chase out of the way; he picked up Osvaldo as if he weighed nothing.

  Osvaldo started screaming obscenities in Spanish, River just shook his head. And then he threw him out the broken window. Everything in that moment seemed to slow. I hesitated then I took a couple of slow steps towards the window. Air rushed in at us from the Tijuana winds, ruffling my hair. But that wasn’t what I paying attention to. I was looking down at Osvaldo’s body impaled on the tall steel fence that surrounded the perimeter of the warehouse. Several steel rods were protruding from his body, growing in size as Osvaldo’s lifeless body slid down them. Blood pooled on the dusty ground as it dripped from him. My hand flew to my mouth, and my eyes were wide as I looked at River standing there, silent and still.

  His eyes were dark, not just from the violence and bloodlust, but also from anger. It was a side I had never seen in him before. Usually he was relaxed in every situation, went with the flow. Even as we destroyed Carmen’s house, he had been fine, light-hearted almost. This time it was different.

  He turned around and saw Chase sitting up on the floor. He reached down, and extended a hand to assist him. As Chase saw the end result out the window, he shook his head. “What a fucking mess.”

  I bit my lip, exhaustion flooded my system as I let go of the breath I had been unconsciously holding. “What now?”

  Both Chase and River looked over at me, almost surprised that I was there.

  “We go home,” River muttered. “We clean up.” He looked over to Chase, “And then I think we make plans to get out of this place.”

  Chase ran his hands through his hair, and nodded his agreement. “Time to really go home.”

  “To England?” I asked. I felt stupid, but I had to clarify. When Chase gave me a curt nod, my heart leapt. This was the best news I’d had since we came to Mexico. I glanced back at Osvaldo, and grimaced. This trip to Mexico had been the worst trip of my life. I would like nothing more than to just go and jump on that private jet that the team had and get out of this bloody country. The more I looked at Chase and River, the more I saw the stress and worry they had been harbouring. This job was taking its toll on them. I had been so damn consumed with my own problems with Carmen, and paying Luke out – I hadn’t really stopped to consider them.

  I followed them from the room, keeping close just in case River had accidentally left someone alive out there. We stepped out onto the metal walkway, and I took in the sight before me. There were bodies everywhere – at least twenty of them. Blood and God only knows what else had splattered against the cocaine sculptures, making the vista a stark and gory reality. A lot of people had died today, and I was partly at fault. If I hadn’t stopped to look more closely at the sculpture of David, my assailant never would have made that phone call. I couldn’t believe that River, who was normally such a gentle soul, could have caused so much bloodshed and damage.

  Chase tugged at my sleeve “Come on. There could be more people coming, and we need to get out of here.”

  He was right. I followed him down the metal staircase, my shoes clunking with each step, and my hand trailing blood on the railing. As I looked out over the warehouse, the air was thick with white powdered dust from the bullets hitting the cocaine sculptures, and instinctively, I held my breath. Stepping over bodies on the warehouse floor, we took the side door we’d come in through, and went out into the fresh air and sunlight. I felt tainted and dirty. The blood on my shirt was no longer sticky, but drying hard. I wanted nothing more than to get home to River’s, shower, and throw these clothes out, never to see them again.

  18

  Water thudded against my skin, washing away the death from the day. It felt good standing under the hot water, just leaning against the tiled wall and letting it pummel me. I couldn’t help but think about all the blood on the sculptures that had been shot to bits, all the bodies that were scattered about the warehouse.

  River certainly was a dark horse underneath that relaxed exterior of his. He had managed to kill just about everyone in that building today, but not without a few scrapes of his own. He’d been shot in the side of his abdomen. It was only a graze, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. He could move fine, and operate normally. But it had still pissed him off. Chase said he’d hesitated with Osvaldo. In hindsight, he knew that he should have just shot him as soon as he had the chance, but a sinister side of him wanted to play with Osvaldo. I could understand why. Osvaldo had been a smug bastard, even when facing his own death. He actually thought that someone would save his hide. I guessed that the last person he expected to walk through the door was River.

  Shouts from my bed
room bought me back to the present and I pushed off from the wall, and shutting the water off. Chase burst through the bathroom door, and I tried to cover myself up. “What the hell?” I yelled, shocked by the interruption.

  He shook his head, and threw my towel at me. “We have to go. NOW!”

  “What? Why?”

  “GET MOVING. We have the Cartel almost on our doorstep.” Chase left the bathroom, and I stood dumbstruck. “You have thirty seconds,” he yelled through the closed door.

  I kicked into action, pulling on my clean underwear as fast as I could. It wasn’t easy since I didn’t have time to dry myself off. I looked down at the sundress I had picked out to wear with disdain. I wasn’t going to be able to move fast enough in it. I flew out the bathroom door, and directly into the pathway of Chase, who was in my wardrobe throwing a few things into a bag. Pulling a sleeveless t-shirt over my head, I sought out a pair of track-pants, pulling them on as rapidly as I could. Chase nodded with approval, throwing me a pair of socks. I pulled them on, and found him passing me some training shoes and a hooded sweatshirt.

  He pushed past me into the bathroom, and grabbed a couple of wigs from their stands, and swept the contents on top of my vanity unit into the bag. Grabbing my arm, we ran down the hallway to the training room. I caught sight of myself in the reflection of the mirrors, dishevelled, wet, but bright-eyed and focused. I might look like shit, but surprisingly, I had a clear head.

  Chase ran to the cupboard, swung it open, and keyed something into a lit keypad. He slammed the cupboard shut, and pulled me over to one of the mirrors. It slid open. I felt my jaw drop, but couldn’t utter a word before he was pulling me into the darkness. I turned around to see the panel silently glided back into place behind us. As my eyes adjusted, I realised it wasn’t quite pitch black, like I originally believed. Tiny little lights dimly glowed, lighting the pathway ahead.

  We ran. Jesus H Christ, did we fly down that hallway. We descended into the depths of the hill beneath the house, Chase gripping my hand tightly. Not once did I stumble. I saw a slither of electric lighting, and realised we were running towards it. Now that I had a destination, it just forced me to run harder. We burst through a doorway, and all but bowled Gabe and River over. Panting, I half bent over, trying to catch my breath. “What the hell is going on?”

  “We’re getting out of here.” River grimaced. “Immediately.”

  As I slowly straightened, I finally took in our surroundings. Monitors lined the walls, and Gabe watched them intently. What I saw on those screens made my blood run cold. People with what looked like military grade weaponry were swarming the grounds and the house above us.

  My mouth went dry. “Shit,” I squeaked, looking up at River wide-eyed. It felt surreal. A couple of minutes ago I had been having a lovely time relaxing in the shower. Now I was holed up in some sort of bunker watching a really nasty home invasion.

  River pursed his lips as he watched the monitors. “Wait,” he said quietly to Gabe.

  I frowned, confused. Chase put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “Go get in the car,” he whispered in my ear, kissing me quickly just below my eye as he turned me away from the screens. Behind us, a big black truck sat gleaming in the neon light of the room. This place was a garage. Somehow I had missed that when we first entered the room. Chase handed me my bag with a grim smile on his face, and turned back to watch the screens with Gabe and River.

  I walked over to the vehicle, and climbed into the back seat. The car smelt of brand new leather finishing. I turned around to watch what was happening. River gestured to Gabe, who nodded. I wondered what the hell they were waiting for.

  And then I saw every single screen except for one light up like Guy Fawkes. One by one, the video feeds failed in rapid succession, and I heard a large rumble in the earth, and vibrations move the car. I gripped the door handle, hanging on for dear life, thinking we were having an earthquake, but it soon slowed. Gabe, River, and Chase all got into the car, River behind the wheel, Gabe riding shotgun, and Chase beside me.

  “What … what was that?” I asked in a quiet voice, as the car started slowly down another tunnel, headlights on. We came to a stop, and sat there in silence.

  I thought perhaps they hadn’t heard me. Then River responded as a garage door began to open in front of us. “That was my house blowing up,” he said almost as quietly as me.

  Chase reached over and grabbed my hand, linking his fingers between mine. I met his eyes and swallowed. That beautiful house. River’s sanctuary. Gone. I bit my lip. A part of me wanted to cry. “How?” My voice was a whisper, but River met my eyes in the rear-view mirror.

  “The house was rigged with C4. Once we could see that the majority of those people were inside, we blew it.”

  I stared at him. “C4?”

  Gabe looked at me, without any of the humour that usually laced his features. “Yes. As in the plastic explosive. We rig all our houses just in case we’re compromised. It’s a failsafe.”

  “Failsafe…” I whispered. As I processed that thought I came to the conclusion that these guys were erring on the side of nuts. I mean, they rigged their houses? Therefore blowing all of their possessions sky high as well as the men inside?

  The car started moving again, exiting through the garage door, and River pulled out into the setting sunlight near the road. I turned back to look up at the house as we sped off. Fire and smoke marred the sky, and the acrid smell of it seeped into the car. “Where are we going to go now?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  “To beat these fuckers,” River said quietly from the driver’s seat. I gaped at him, and when he met my eye in the rear vision mirror, he grimaced. “And then we’re going home.”

  I saw Chase looking at me across the car, and I gave him a tired but emotional smile. I felt like crying, God knows why. I needed some sort of release.

  No one spoke ‘til we hit Tijuana city.

  “Turn left here,” Gabe directed. That brought me out of my daze, and I started to pay attention to where we were going. We were quite close to the US border, driving through a different warehousing area. I could see crappy housing that all looked the same lining the border into the distance. I never wanted to live in a place like this. I questioned whether or not that was from my experiences here, or whether I actually just didn’t like the place. I couldn’t really tell the difference at the moment, and nor did I want to try.

  It was quite dark in the city now, and Gabe was still giving directions. Finally River pulled to a stop and parked the car under a large tree, giving us some cover. I could hear people somewhere. Muffled cries, shouting, and some cheering. It was as if they were watching a football game. It was a weird notion to consider, especially when we were as good as homeless here now, with nowhere to go. Everyone else carried on with their lives, while we had just been in a big shootout with cocaine sculptures, and blown a house up.

  River and Chase got out and walked around to the back of the car, opening the boot. River passed bags to Chase, and lifted up the wheel housing. I strained to watch over the backseat. There was a lot of different shit in there; more grenades, guns, ammunition, something that looked suspiciously like a detonator. River handed me two small Glocks similar to the guns that I had used in the warehouse earlier. Chase opened my bag and pulled out my Cleopatra styled wig, throwing it to me. He then chucked a small clear packet of bobby-pins as well. I got to work immediately, blindly pinning the wig to my head. I had no idea how it looked or if it was even sitting straight but I did my best.

  I turned to Gabe. “This look all right?”

  Gabe looked up from his iPad, and gave me a quick nod of approval.

  I slumped back in my seat and rifled through the bag for a change of clothing. “What exactly are we doing here, Gabe?” I noted that someone had also included my double gun holster as well, and dumped that on the seat beside me.

  He gave me a cursory glance before he returned his attention to his screen. “River’s pisse
d. No…scratch that. He’s on the war path. He loved that house, and he’s more than fucked off that they managed to trace us, which gives us the insight that they have more cards up their sleeves that we were prepared for.” He blew out a big sigh, and looked up at me. His eyes were sad, and he looked tired.

  “So… we just go in there and take them down?” I found some jeans, and switched into them in the back seat. I then shrugged off the sweatshirt, clipped the holster to me, and pulled on a leather jacket that Chase had packed.

  Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not one of the action men around here.” He shoved his thumb towards the direction of the boot. “They are. I do what I’m told.” He jabbed a finger against the screen a couple of times, and then looked back up at me. “This time it’s personal,” he whispered. “They fucked with River directly, and now they’re going to get what they deserve.” Something beeped, drawing his attention back down to the device. “Fuck me,” he muttered. “Damn. Damn, damn, damn.” He put the iPad down while I looked at him questioning what the hell was going on.

  Gabe got out of the front seat, and walked around the back to River and Chase. “They know who she is,” he said quietly. I almost couldn’t hear him, but when I saw their faces, my blood ran cold. Everything seemed to slow. They were talking about me. My mouth was dry, and I desperately needed to think – to figure out what this meant.

  I quickly pulled on some boots without zipping them up, and got out of the car, lighting a cigarette.

  “How?” River asked.

  Gabe shrugged. “Looks like they ran facial recognition software on her and pulled some records. Driver’s licence, an arrest from like twelve years ago, and passport information.”

  I walked up behind them, my hands shaking, and my skin tingling. “I was never charged,” I muttered.

  River looked sharply at me, and shook his head. “It no longer matters,” he stated. “Gabe, wipe the records. Too late now of course, but we don’t want any of that to come up in the future.” He looked back at me. “You know what this means, right?”