Fight

by Paige Hill

  His confession doesn’t shock me as much as I’d expect it to. I’ve wondered before what his sexual preferences were, but it always felt too invasive to ask.

  “He took all the evidence to our Capitan and convinced him I was the traitor. But not everyone lacks loyalty like him.”

  “In my time under, I had befriended another lackey. As much as you can when you lie to them about who you are. Anyway, he was the one instructed to kill me. A year prior to that, I lied to the boss about something he messed up, saving his life. He didn’t care that I lied. In his eyes, I had earned his respect. In turn, he let me go. I figured since I was “dead” anyway and no one was looking for me, I could start fresh. He is still a loyal friend to this day. You met him at the bus station.”

  His confession has me reeling. This can’t be real life. But one thing about his story is eating at me.

  “I’m sorry he hurt you. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You deserve more than that.” My heart breaks for him. That kind of deception would tarnish the average person. But not my Manny.

  “Thank you, Baby Girl. He didn’t break me. It was a blessing in disguise. It truly was.”

  Ever the optimist.

  After a quick shower, I dress, opting for a pair of denim shorts and vintage band tee. I choose to wear my hair up, not something I do often. Wrapping it up into a messy bun, I glance at myself in the mirror. I can’t help but smile at my reflection. I look happy. With a fresher outlook on the day, I head toward the living room to see that Declan has changed as well and appears to be waiting for me.

  Declan’s house is central to everything in downtown Miami. It makes the drives short but there is nothing like soaking up the Miami sun. The warm ocean air is the perfect complement to such a beautiful day.

  Declan kills the engine, making me realize I was so lost in the trip that I hadn’t realized we stopped. The smile on his face tells me he is amused by something, but I have no idea what. Exiting the Jeep, he comes around to open the door for me. That is something I’m still trying to get used to. He takes my hand in his and guides me toward the store.

  I say nothing as Declan fills a cart with pizzas, cupcakes, and enough booze to intoxicate an entire fraternity. Trust me, I’ve seen it.

  “How many women are you planning to feed?” I ask.

  “I don’t know how much women eat. I’m covering the bases. Anything else while we’re here?” he asks, scanning the isles.

  “I think we’re good.” I chuckle.

  Soon after, we check out and head to his Jeep with the “supplies”. The moment I exit the store, something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it, but something isn’t right. I try not to let Declan see that I’m starting to panic. The last thing he needs is to be worried about my bullshit. I cautiously scan the parking area, the knot in the pit of my stomach growing. I see nothing out of the ordinary, but I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

  Deciding I’m overreacting, I focus on helping Declan load the items into his car.

  Something doesn’t feel right, but I can’t place it. I’ve visually scanned this entire parking lot, but nothing appears to be out of the ordinary. I even do a quick sweep of the truck, thankfully without Teagan noticing. Instinct has kept me alive more times than I can count. If I let my guard down, even for a second, the consequences could be dire. The feeling in the pit of my stomach shakes me and as much as I want to call off the raid, too much is at stake. I’m just going to have to suck it up and do the best I can to protect her from miles away. Piece of cake, right?

  Pulling into the drive, I try my best to shake the forlorn feeling. Teagan was quiet the entire drive back to the house. I’m praying that she hasn’t picked up on my shift in mood.

  “Thank you for everything,” Teagan says as she opens her door to get out. I simply nod my head in response and step out of the Jeep.

  Our arms loaded with bags, I somehow manage to unlock the door.

  One trip or die trying.

  I’m putting the last of our groceries, if you can call it that, in the cabinet when Teagan speaks up.

  “What time do you have to leave?” she asks with one hip resting against the counter. Her expression is thoughtful, making me wish I could read her mind.

  “I need to leave here by six, so I have time to be briefed, get my gear together, and get in position,” I reply, still running through my mental checklist. “Do you think your friend can get here before I leave? I need to meet her before I leave you alone. Besides, I refuse to leave you anywhere alone. Not until I figure out how big a treat this asshole is.”

  Remembering I haven’t heard back from Briggs on this Celeste chick, I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text.

  Declan: Were you able to find anything on Celeste Martinez? I need to know who I’m leaving Teagan alone with.

  “Probably. I’ll call her really quick.” Teagan pulls out her phone, touches the screen a few times then holds the phone to her ear. I can hear the voice on the other line clear across the room. Teagan’s face breaks into a smile and suddenly my chest and cock are fighting over available blood supply.

  “We didn’t discuss a time earlier. Think you can be here by six?” Teagan asks the voice on the line.

  “Sure. Do I need to bring anything? And where am I going?” the voice asks.

  “No, we should be good. Declan bought enough for an army of women. I’m staying at—um, a friend’s house right now but it will only be the two of us.” I can only enjoy Teagan’s nervousness for a second before a shriek bellows from the other side of the phone.

  “Ooooh, who is this elusive Declan?” the voice teases. “Are you shacking up with a boy toy and forgot to tell me?”

  Teagan’s beautiful grey eyes go wide as saucers.

  “Uh, can we talk about this later?” she begs. On a sigh, she adds, “don’t forget, six o’clock,” then rattles off my address and hangs up the phone. But not before the voice on the other end laughs hysterically.

  Teagan’s skin blushes, clearly embarrassed by her friend’s questions.

  “I think I’m going to like her,” I joke as I strut out of the room.

  “There is clearly something wrong with the both of you!” She giggles and heads into the living room.

  My phone dings with an incoming message.

  Briggs: Yeah, I did. Came back fairly clean. Her business is in the green, no current romantic relationship, no outstanding debt or history of violence.

  It doesn’t escape my attention that he mentioned her relationship status. That is not part of a standard for a background check.

  Declan: What do you mean “fairly clean”?

  He never mentioned a criminal history.

  Briggs: Well, there is this one thing.

  Declan: What the hell man? Spill before I beat the shit out of you. Again.

  Briggs: Not cool man. It doesn’t count if the guy getting his ass kicked drowned himself in bourbon.

  Screw this, I need answers and I am not a patient man. Tapping the screen a few times, I pull it to my ear and wait.

  “Fuck, you’re impatient.” He chuckles in greeting.

  “What did you mean by fairly clean? Is she into drugs or some shit?”

  “Damn, this girl has you wound up tight.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Anyway, it looks like Teagan’s girl has a wild side. Apparently, she was arrested for prostitution a few years ago.”

  What in the actual fuck?

  “How is that fairly clean?” It’s difficult to keep my tone even.

  “Turns out, she had been out with friends one night, drank too much and called her then boyfriend to pick her up. When he showed up, they started arguing before she even got in the car. He drove off pissed and left her there. Some asshole rookie misinterpreted the scene and accosted her. She must be pretty feisty because the report states that she told him to, and I quote “dip his dick in a donut and fuck off”.

  “You have got to be kidding…” There is
no way this is true.

  “It gets even better. When the asshole tried to arrest her, he cornered her, and she kneed him in the jewels. There is even video!” He shouts, laughing so hard I can barely understand him. “A random club-goer recorded the whole damn thing.” I swear he is wheezing.

  Fucking hell, the woman is insane.

  Teagan and I spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled on the couch watching action movies. I can honestly say I’ve had more fun in those few hours than I’ve had in a long while. We joked, we talked, we even made out like teenagers. But I never took it any further. For her sake, I know we need to slow things down.

  It isn’t until the doorbell rings that I realize its nearing six. Looking through the peep hole, I see a petite woman with dark hair. I recognize Celeste from the photos Briggs sent. Disarming the system, I open the door and am immediately greeted by a five-foot-nothing ball of energy.

  “Declan, this is Celeste. Celeste, Declan.” Teagan makes her introductions as she walks up behind me.

  “Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand in greeting. She shakes it firmly and her eyes assess me closely. I must meet her approved expectations because she turns to Teagan and hugs her tightly.

  “So, do I call you Teagan or Taryn?” she asks, masking her concern with a gleeful tone.

  “Teagan is fine.”

  “Okay, well, I’m going to get out of you ladies’ hair. I have work to do,” I say, gently tugging Teagan’s arm, insinuating that I want to talk in private for a moment.

  “Celeste, will you give me just a sec?” she asks.

  “No problem, just point me in the direction of the booze,” Celeste quips with a shit-eating grin on her face.

  “In the kitchen—“ she cuts Teagan off.

  “I’ll find it. Go maul your man already. He needs to leave so we can talk about him.”

  “I’m really sorry about her,” Teagan says through a smile as she follows me down the hall toward the bedroom.

  “I really do need to head out.” I lean in, taking her mouth with a heated kiss. Seizing my opportunity, I close the door and press her against it. My hands flex on the globes of her ass and she automatically wraps her legs around my waist. I realize she is just as desperate as I am when she tilts her head, deepening the kiss. Having Teagan in my arms like this… I grind my growing erection into her core, causing her to break the kiss on a moan. Taking a second to control my breathing, I lean my forehead on hers. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to walk out that door right now.”

  Thrusting her hips into mine, she replies,

  “Yes, I do.”

  Growling, I crash my lips down onto hers one last time before I force myself to break away. I really do need to leave. Briggs is probably already pissed at me.

  “When I leave, set the alarm just like I showed you.” She nods her head and I start to open my mouth again, but she beats me to the punch.

  “I won’t open the door for strangers either,” she teases, fingers up in Scout’s Honor.

  “Very funny,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll. With that, I grab my bag and give my goodbyes to Celeste and head out the door. I stand at the door, needing validation that the alarm is set. Once I’m satisfied that the house is secure, I make my way to the Jeep.

  “Ho-ly shit! Where have you been hiding him?” Celeste asks the second I secure the alarm system.

  “Uh, that’s a really long story,” I reply, hoping she lets it go.

  “Lucky for you, I’ve got all night.” She smiles somewhat devilishly.

  I should have known better.

  Celeste turns to finish mixing the drinks and I collapse into a kitchen chair.

  “I met him at Blind Luck. He’s a bartender there.” Celeste nods, signaling for me to continue. “He saved me when I was attacked in the alley. Some drunk douche tried to rape me.” I exhale heavily.

  “Oh, Chicka,” she coos, pulling a chair closer to mine and placing a cocktail firmly in my hand. Thankful for something to calm my nerves, I take a hearty drink.

  “Declan pulled him off me. I could see the pure rage in his eyes. I honestly think that he would have killed him if I hadn’t asked him to stop.” Reliving that night with the added knowledge of his past, I know he would have. The look in his eyes was so feral. Like a caged beast.

  “I’m sorry that happened, but swoon.” She waves her hand to fan her face.

  “Oh, it gets better,” I promise. “When my husband sent me a threatening message, I was forced to tell him who I really am.” I paused to let that sink in. “Turns out he’s undercover DEA.”

  “Wait! Let me get this straight. He’s an undercover agent and you’re a fucking fugitive. Why hasn’t he turned you in?” she asks, confused. “No, offense,” she amends.

  “He believes me.” My statement is simple, but it holds a level of power that I know she understands. “And none taken.” I laugh.

  The heaviness of the evening soon fades as we settle in for a marathon of, you guessed it, romantic movies. We are heartthrob deep in the iconic Say Anything scene. Both of us deeply entranced as John Cusack holds up a boom box, professing his love.

  Crash!

  Broken glass flies all over as the living room window shatters.

  “What do we know so far?” I ask Ramos, our team leader, as I set my bag on the locker room bench. He stands, his hands busy strapping on his Kevlar vest. DEA is boldly stamped across the chest in white.

  “Not much, but it’s enough. I’ve mapped out our positions. The vessel carrying the cargo containers is scheduled to arrive at midnight. We move on my signal.” His slight Spanish accent remains calm as usual.

  “Do we know who the seller is?” I ask, mentally preparing. The big question here is the buyer. We know he’s American, sly as fuck and ruthless. Beyond that, we have jack shit.

  “Someone new. Word is, this new guy declared war on Alvarez. It’s just speculation at this point, but we are preparing for his retribution to trickle into the states. Rival cartels that blood thirsty ain’t gonna be able to keep it contained to Cuba.”

  Fuck. He’s right.

  “But they aren’t the target tonight,” he continues to the group. “Tonight, the objective is to identify the faceless fuck who has managed to smuggle millions of dollars in cocaine across our border.”

  The team is ready, all in standard issue tactical apparel. Next stop, the gun cage.

  “Looks like the package has been delivered. Standby.” I hear Briggs’ voice crackle through my earpiece.

  From my perch, I have a clear shot where the target is expected. The view through my night force scope allows precision focus. From here I can see a few men pacing with what appears to be AR-15s. Shifting my line of sight, I see a small group of men in suits approach the cargo container in question. Greg and the money man from the other night are among them. The man who appears to be in charge is much younger than I expected him to be. The thought sends up a red flag.

  Another crackle and Ramos’ voice penetrates my thoughts.

  “Possible target in question has been located. Wait for confirmation.”

  I know where he is because of the position layout during the briefing but I am unable to see him, even through my scope. Turning my attention back to the container, I watch at the ready as the doors swing open.

  Bingo.

  Stacks of white packages line the interior. I watch carefully as the target steps forward to inspect the merchandise. My location is too far away to hear the discussion but that’s not what catches my attention.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  Refusing to believe my eyes, I press my finger against the bud in my ear. The sudden rush of adrenaline causes me to break out in a cold sweat.

  “Anyone else fucking see what I’m seeing?” I whisper into the radio. Briggs’ deep voice booms through the earpiece.

  “I fucking see it. This shit is bigger than we thought.” He replies, his voice a low growl.

  “Goddamn it!” Ramos cuts in, his
accent thickened by his anger.

  I watch carefully as five women are marched out of the ship. Barely clothed and clearly malnourished, the sight has me fighting the urge to vomit. We’ve just crossed the line from drug smuggling into full blown human trafficking.

  I continue to watch the exchange for several more minutes until the conversation turns heated. The suspected target is furious about something and, without preamble, pulls out a gun and shoots one of the men, point blank. At that exact moment, chaos ensues. Gun fire rains and the hostage women scream as I hear the order.

  “Now, now, now!” Ramos screams. I take that as my cue, not once hesitating as I aim and fire a round into the shoulder of some unsuspecting asshole. I see Ramos approach the scene and watch through my scope as he whips out his Glock and carefully steps around the side of the container.

  Shit.

  Both of Ramos’ hands raise as a gun is pressed firmly into the back of his skull. Without thought, I pull the trigger, popping off two rounds into the assailant’s forehead.

  “Thanks.” Ramos smiles in my direction. Cocky bastard.

  I place the rifle shoulder strap across my chest, in favor of the pistol at my hip. The black balaclava covering my face is stifling but necessary to conceal my identity. The last thing this operation needs is for my cover to be blown. My body moves at a rapid pace, jumping from my posted position on top of an empty container in the ship yard. The smell of gunpowder permeates the air. As I make my way around, I can see Briggs and a few other team members closing in.

  I feel the cold steel press to my temple not even seconds before I am assaulted by stale, hot breath. Where the fuck did he come from?