Dangerous Choice KO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  "It's pretty good work if that's true," Diego commented. "I can't see any blend on the picture."

  "Amelia, one of the Salazar cousins, is a graphic artist. She's particularly close to Rico. I'm sure she did it," Bethany said.

  Diego flipped through several more shots, all suggesting that Michael had had a series of meetings with Pedroza. He clicked out of that file and opened another. This one showed inventory and shipments of wine bottles.

  That information didn't make any sense to Tara, but it was probably damning for Michael.

  There were more files with financials, deposits, withdrawals, and then a copy of an alleged email between Pedroza and Michael about going into business together. Michael wrote that he had no allegiance to the Salazars. They were not his blood.

  "Clearly, Michael didn't write that," Bethany said. "He very much thinks of the Salazars as his family. He's incredibly loyal."

  "He seemed that way to me, too," Diego muttered.

  "What else do you think?" Tara asked. He hadn't said much as they'd looked through the drive.

  "It's going to take some skill and some additional knowledge about the Salazar operation to make sense of what we're looking at," he said, punching several keys. "I'm sending this to Wyatt."

  "Who's Wyatt?" Bethany asked, concern in her voice. "I thought we were handling this on our own."

  "Wyatt is a friend and a damn good FBI agent with a lot of connections in organized crime," Diego replied. "He's the one who helped us find you."

  "But this information could put Michael in jail," Bethany said. "Do you want that for your brother?"

  "We're not building a case against Michael; we're trying to figure out what this is," Diego retorted. "And it's happening, so get on board." After hitting Send, Diego got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

  Tara sensed his patience was hanging by a thread, so she let him go without a word.

  "I don't want Michael to go to jail," Bethany said, worry in her eyes. "I didn't steal the drive to give it to the FBI."

  "Well, this is where we're at, Bethany, and I don't think Diego wants to send Michael to jail, either. But whatever happens is not the result of what Diego does or I do, or even what you've done. It's about Michael. If he's a criminal, he's going to have to pay for what he's done."

  "But the Salazars forced him into his life."

  "A life that seems to have provided Michael with money and opportunity, and I don't think he's an innocent, Bethany. He might not be conspiring against his family, but it looks to me like he's involved with drug distribution and/or laundering money. You need to start accepting the fact that while you might be able to save his life, you might not be able to save him from jail."

  "There has to be a way," Bethany said, undaunted by her words.

  "I can't see one."

  "That doesn't mean there isn't one. And Diego is Michael's half-brother. Doesn't that count for something?"

  "I'm not sure. But we're going to have to play this out."

  "I want to show Michael what I found," Bethany said, pulling the drive out of the computer. "I'm going to call him. Give me your phone."

  She was astonished at Bethany's request. "You can't do that. I'm sorry, but we need to play this through Diego."

  "We don't need Diego to call the shots. We can decide what we want to do. Come on, Tara. It's you and me—just like the old days. Are you with me?"

  She wanted to be with Bethany, but she also wanted to be with Diego. "No."

  Bethany's gaze filled with shock. "No?"

  "No. Diego almost lost his life looking for you. I will not go against him. We three have to work together. It's the only way we're going to survive."

  "I can't believe what you're saying. This isn't you, Tara. He's brainwashed you."

  She smiled at Bethany's dramatic statement. "I'm thinking quite clearly for myself. I'm sorry, Bethany, but you're not running this show anymore. Now, why don't you give me the drive and go to bed?"

  "We need to keep talking."

  "You look like you're about to pass out."

  "Tara—you have to help me save Michael."

  "I'm going to do everything I can, Bethany. I promise. But this is bigger than all of us. And I don't want any of us to die over this flash drive. I almost lost you to that hit-and-run driver. I've just gotten you back. You need to work with me. You're not in this alone, even if you'd prefer to be. I'm a target now, too. So is Diego."

  "I get that, but I need to have a say in what we do."

  "Of course you'll have a say. We all will." She held out her hand.

  Bethany reluctantly handed over the drive. "I am exhausted."

  "I know," Tara said, as she helped her up from the couch. "We'll talk again in the morning."

  * * *

  Diego moved back into the kitchen as Tara led Bethany down the hall to the second bedroom. He smiled to himself as he poured a cup of coffee. He'd been about to offer the women something to drink when he'd heard Bethany demand Tara's allegiance.

  He'd wanted to hear what Tara would say. There was a part of him that had wondered if she'd give in to Bethany. Tara had a lot of love for her friend, as evidenced by everything they'd been through. But she'd said no. She'd told Bethany in no uncertain terms that she would not sneak around behind his back.

  He'd been surprised and pleased by the fervor of her response, the way she'd stood up to the woman she'd considered a sister. And she'd done it for him.

  He knew there were feelings between them, but he hadn't had time or the desire to define those feelings. They were too caught up in everything else.

  But hearing Tara put herself on his side had touched a part of his heart that he'd locked away a long time ago. His father's anger, resentment, and ultimate rejection—and his mother's unwillingness to come back for him—had hardened him. The word love had lost all meaning. He'd stopped looking for it, stopped wanting it. And he hadn't thought he'd missed it—until now.

  That thought hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

  He wasn't in love with Tara, was he?

  He really shouldn't be. He'd hurt her. She'd want more from him than he could give.

  A dozen reasons why they couldn't work ran through his head.

  But he knew it wasn't about what she wanted from him; it was more about what he felt he could give, whether he could open himself up enough to be the kind of man she deserved.

  He'd asked her to trust him with her life, and she had. But could he ask her to trust him with her heart?

  "Diego?"

  He spun around at the sound of her soft, hesitant voice and forced a smile onto his face. "Do you want coffee?"

  "No. I'd like to get some sleep tonight."

  "How's Bethany doing?"

  "She was nodding off before her head hit the pillow."

  "Are you sure she's not pretending to sleep until we go to bed? I wouldn't put it past her to sneak out of here."

  "You heard our conversation."

  "Some of it," he admitted.

  "I have the flash drive, and I also took her shoes and hid them away, just in case."

  "So, my concern is not unfounded."

  "No. It's not. She's worried you're going to put Michael in jail. She wants to warn him. She wants to do what she set out to do—show him the flash drive, so he can see that the Salazars are trying to take him down. Then she would like to convince him to run away with her. She thinks they could disappear. Michael could get out of that life, and they could live happily ever after."

  "That's one plan."

  "Do you have another one? Because I'm thinking that you probably don't relish the idea of putting your little brother in jail or watching the Salazars destroy him."

  "Neither scenario is good."

  "Is there another way out of this for Michael? Or is this going to come down to brother against brother, good against evil?"

  "I honestly don't know. That depends on several factors, including whether or not Michael wants a way out
. Talking to him earlier didn't give me a lot of hope."

  "But Michael doesn't know the Salazars are setting him up. That might change his perspective. Bethany didn't think he would believe her if she just told him what she'd heard. She thought he needed concrete proof."

  "I think he does, too. Otherwise, he'll find a way to dismiss everything. I wish to God I could have protected him from all this. I wish I'd found a way to go after my mother earlier."

  "None of this is your fault, Diego."

  "Logically, I know that, but emotionally…"

  Her gaze softened, and she walked across the room, sliding her arms around him, as she rested her head on his chest. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

  He set down his coffee and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're doing it."

  He loved how well they fit together, his chin resting on the top of her head. Instantly his body hardened. He wanted another night with her. He didn't know how many more they would have, but he wanted at least one more.

  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with emotion. "Let's go to bed, Diego."

  He gazed down at her. "To sleep?"

  "After," she said. "But let's make sure we have the car keys, and our phones in the room with us."

  He smiled. "I like that you can love Bethany and still know her for who she is."

  "I've had a lot of practice. You're only seeing the worst side of her, but she can be really kind and thoughtful, caring, too. I know it feels like you and Bethany are at odds, but you're actually on the same side. You both care about Michael. You want him to find a way out. You just differ on how to do that. But we can talk it all out in the morning."

  "We can do that," he agreed, as he put his arm around her shoulders and walked her down the hall to the bedroom.

  They closed the door behind them and undressed each other with loving, restrained purpose. But all that restraint went out the window when they fell into bed together. Then there was only passion—wild, consuming desire that drove everything else out of their heads.

  Tonight he just wanted Tara. He wanted her softness, her strength, her generosity—all the things that were uniquely her. And he wanted to take away her worries, free her from the fears of tomorrow, of the future. The only moment that mattered was the one they were in, and he was going to make it as good as he possibly could.

  * * *

  Diego jolted awake. He'd heard something.

  Sliding out of bed, he grabbed his briefs off the floor, pulling them on along with his jeans as he reached for the gun by the bed.

  "What's wrong?" Tara whispered.

  "Not sure yet. It could be Bethany sneaking out."

  "Or someone sneaking in," she said, as she scrambled for her clothes.

  He moved toward the door. Then he heard a scream. And he moved faster.

  He threw open the door and saw Bethany being dragged down the hall by Pablo. She was kicking and yelling, but Pablo was almost to the front door. "Stop," he yelled. "Or I'll drop you where you stand."

  Pablo froze, then put his gun to Bethany's head, as he kept his other arm around her neck.

  "Let me go, you bastard," Bethany hissed, as she tried to pull herself free, but she was too weak to get away.

  "This is between her and me," Pablo told him.

  "Wrong. It's now between you and me. Let her go."

  "I'd rather kill her."

  "And then I'll kill you. Is that the way you want this to go down?"

  The door behind Pablo flew open. Pablo looked like he'd been expecting someone else, his jaw dropping as Michael strode through the doorway, weapon drawn.

  Diego sucked in a breath. He had the terrible feeling his worst fear had come true. It was going to be brother against brother. And at the end, one of them could end up dead.

  Twenty

  "Michael," Bethany cried out in relief. "Thank God you're here. Pablo is setting you up. I have proof. I've been trying to get it to you."

  "The bitch is lying," Pablo told Michael. "She's the one setting you up. She's been working with Pedroza. You can't trust a word she says."

  "It's not true," Bethany protested. "I love you, Michael. You have to believe me. I heard all about Pablo and Rico's plan when I went to Cascada for Vanessa's birthday. They were drunk; they didn't know how much they were saying. They had everything on a flash drive, and I stole it, so I could give it to you."

  "That's a lie," Pablo began.

  "Shut up," Michael barked. He gave Diego a quick look, then turned back to Pablo and Bethany. "Let her go."

  "She can destroy all of us," Pablo said, refusing to loosen his grip on Bethany. "She knows too much. Ask Rico. He's in the car."

  "Rico is unconscious," Michael said coldly.

  Pablo blanched at those words. "What did you do? Are you crazy, Michael? You're turning on your family for this bitch?"

  "I'm not betraying you, Michael—they are," Bethany said. "It's all on the drive: photos of you and Alan Pedroza together, inventory from your bar, financial records. They want to take you down because Caleb loves you too much, and you're not blood. They're jealous."

  "I know," Michael said. "I figured it out."

  "You did?" Bethany asked in amazement.

  "Yes. I did a lot of thinking today, a lot of talking to people who are actually loyal to me. I know what Pablo and Rico have been doing. Let her go, Pablo."

  "No, she's coming with me. She knows too much, with or without the drive. I'm just looking out for you, Michael. You have to believe me."

  "I don't believe you," Michael said coldly. "And, you, of all people, Pablo…"

  Pablo paled. "It was Rico's idea. He forced me into it. He's the one who came up with the plan. He's the one who talked other people into it. Rico—"

  A shot rang out, followed by screams—Bethany, Tara, Pablo.

  Diego instinctively pushed Tara back into the bedroom, as Pablo sank to the ground, clutching his bloody shoulder, and Bethany crawled away from him, crying in terror. He thought for a split second that Michael had shot Pablo, but there was another man in the doorway—Rico!

  "Rico?" Pablo asked in shock. "You shot me."

  "I'm protecting Michael—my brother," Rico said harshly. "I heard what Pablo told you, Michael, but it's not true. I had nothing to do with this. I didn't even know about the flash drive until this afternoon when Pablo asked me to help him find Bethany and get it back. I was curious to see what was on it, so I came with him. You didn’t have to knock me out, Michael."

  As Rico turned his head, Diego saw the blood on the back of his scalp.

  "I'm not your enemy," Rico continued. "It's Pablo and your bitch."

  Michael's jaw tightened at Rico's words. And Diego realized that his brother did actually have feelings for Bethany.

  "She's going to ruin your life—all these people will," Rico added, his gaze sweeping the room. "They have to die tonight. We clean up and we start over."

  At Rico's words, Diego's hand tightened on the trigger of his gun. He was prepared to take out Rico, Pablo, and Michael if he had to. He'd kill all three of them to protect Tara and Bethany. But he was terribly afraid that Michael felt the same way in reverse, that he'd be willing to kill all of them to stay in the Salazar family, to protect his lifestyle, his job, his criminal brothers.

  "You don't have to do it," Rico told Michael. "I will show you my loyalty by taking care of this problem for you."

  Rico took aim at Bethany, but before he could fire, Michael shot him in the heart.

  Rico stumbled back against the wall, blood spurting from his chest, shock in his eyes. Then he fell to the floor.

  "Fuck, man, you killed Rico," Pablo said in shock, still clutching his shoulder as he tried to get to his feet.

  "He just shot you. What do you care?" Michael asked coldly. "He was trying to pin everything on you."

  "He was lying," Pablo said quickly. "I told you it was all Rico's idea. If you want to shoot someone else, shoot him. He's FBI," Pablo said, waving his good
hand toward Diego. "I found out tonight. I have a source at the bureau. She told me they had Bethany. That's why I came here."

  Michael's head swung in Diego's direction, and as they faced each other once more, with guns drawn, love and hatred burning between them, images from a lifetime ago flashed through his head. He and Mateo building a fort in the living room, playing on a Slip-N-Slide in the backyard on a hot day, building war machines out of blocks, eating popcorn in front of the TV. He remembered Mateo crawling into his bed when he had a nightmare or when their parents were fighting. He'd always told his little brother that he would be all right, that everything would be fine.

  But now he was out of promises and out of time.

  He had a responsibility to protect Bethany and Tara. But he didn't know if he could pull the trigger on his brother. He wondered if Michael had the same doubts. After what he'd just witnessed, he doubted it. He wished for another way out, but there was no one coming to their aid. The building they were in was empty. No one else would have heard the shots. No one would know they were in trouble. He had to settle this now—with his brother.

  "Diego is your blood, Michael," Tara said from behind him.

  "Get back in the room," he told her, not trusting that his brother wouldn't shoot at her first.

  "Diego is more your brother than these men, Michael," Tara continued, as she ignored his plea and moved into the hallway. "And if you're going to shoot him, you'll have to take me out, too, and Bethany as well. Diego loves you and so does Bethany. Are you really going to kill the two people who actually love you? Because clearly these men have no feeling for you. They wanted you dead. They wanted to destroy you. But Diego remembers the little boy he used to play with, the kid he can't imagine being cruel and heartless. Bethany has somehow decided you are worthy of her love. She has risked her life for you. She had absolutely nothing to gain and everything to lose when she stole the drive from Pablo. And she did it for you—so you would believe her."

  Michael's gaze flickered toward Bethany, who was on the floor crying.

  "I do love you, Michael," Bethany said. "Everything I did was for you. What Tara said is true. And I know you feel the same way about me. We have something special. Please don't let it die here tonight."