by Lisa Cardiff
My mom sucked in a breath, and her face flushed red. The air buzzed with years of mutual anger and resentment.
My dad waved his hand in front of his face. The three of us sat in silence. His expression held no sign of judgment. I listened to the low hum of restaurant, picking up fragments of conversation from nearby tables.
“Hattie, are you happy? Does he make your happy?” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.
I nodded. “Yes. Very much.”
My dad leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the white tablecloth. Every thud sent my heart higher and higher until every frazzled beat vibrated at the back of my throat, suffocating me.
He blew out a breath. “That’s all that matters. Why didn’t you bring him tonight? Do we know him?”
“His name is Ryker and he’s out of town right now.”
“Are you living at his house?”
“Yes.” I shrugged. “For now. He’s out of town for a couple more weeks, and I still don’t have anywhere to live. It made sense.”
“Right.” My mom nodded. “What does he do?”
Here came the unanswerable questions. My body sagged like someone had placed a hundred-pound weight on my head. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
My dad’s eyes narrowed. “Is he employed or does he plan to live off you and your family?”
My anger flared, but I bit the inside of my cheek, pushing back the emotion. I didn’t want to pick another fight tonight. “He does consulting. He doesn’t need your connections or your money.” I lifted my chin. “Neither do I.”
“Those are big words for a girl who doesn’t have a job and hasn’t finished her master’s,” my mother said.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, which was fitting. My mom excelled at low blows. “I’m fine. You and dad don’t need to worry about me. My life is back on track again. I know what I want.”
I looked over my shoulder, and my gaze collided with Noah’s. He didn’t even pretend to blend with the other patrons at the bar. All of his attention was focused on my family and me. I flashed him a small, quick smile and turned back to my parents.
Desperately seeking a diversion, I lifted my menu, concealing my face. “What’s good here? I haven’t had a thing to eat since breakfast. I’m starving.”
My dad smiled. “You do seem happier than you’ve been in a long time.”
“I am.”
My dad nodded. “I can’t wait to meet the guy who changed your life.”
“Soon,” I promised, even though I didn’t know if it would ever happen.
So many things had to come to pass before we could be together. Did it make me a terrible person that I didn’t care who we had to hurt to get what we wanted?
My mind whirled with a million and one questions. I shook my head and pushed it all away. I was getting too far ahead of myself. I needed to move forward one step at a time, and step one was making it through dinner with my parents.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ryker
Yellow, pink, and orange streaks tinted the late afternoon sky. Rever’s bright yellow convertible Porsche darted in and out of traffic along the coastal highway, drawing more than a few stares. Wind tunneled through my hair and the smell of exhaust burned my nostrils.
“Couldn’t we have driven something less conspicuous?” I yelled.
“Nah,” Rever responded without looking at me. “Everyone knows this is my car.”
“Exactly my point,” I grumbled.
Rever chuckled. “Everyone will stay clear of us when we’re driving home. It’s perfect.”
“Right, but everyone will know our whereabouts tonight. That’s what I’m worried about.”
“They’ll know we’re in Playa del Carmen for dinner, but they won’t know anything more than that. It’s the perfect cover.”
“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled more to myself than him.
A wide grin stretched across his face as we darted across traffic, earning more than a few honks and angry hand gestures. “Trust me. You’ll see. Besides, if our suspicions are correct, it won’t matter in a couple days.”
“I have a feeling you’ve done something like this before.”
“Not exactly.” His tires squealed as he slammed on his brakes and reversed into a tight spot next to the high-curbed sidewalk.
We both got out of the car, and Rever pointed to a restaurant with an open-air patio. “I hope you like Italian food.”
I shrugged as Rever greeted the hostess. “Does it matter?”
“Not really. We’ll sit down for five minutes, then make our way out the back door of the restaurant. Nobody will suspect a thing and if they do…fuck ’em.”
“If you say so,” I said as we strolled through the restaurant to a table near the kitchen.
Heads turned in waves, watching every move we made. Murmurs and hushed whispers followed us like ghosts. I kept my chin up, and my eyes focused on the back wall. I couldn’t imagine a day when I would get used to the attention of being affiliated with the Vargas Cartel. For the most part, Ignacio confined me to the compound as a child, but on occasion he took me out and flaunted our connection. I still hated the way stares filled with fear followed me everywhere.
I settled into the chair across from Rever, stretching my legs out to the side with my back pressed into the wall. Rever was confident our high profile would shield us. I didn’t agree. The war with the Alvarez Cartel had eroded some of Ignacio’s power. Killing Enrique Alvarez had halted the power shift, but it left us susceptible to challenge.
Rever scanned the menu, commenting about the food he liked. I didn’t respond. Instead, I watched the restaurant staff and fellow patrons studiously avoid eye contact. Even the tourists avoided looking our way despite the fact that they were generally oblivious to the ugly side of Mexico. They viewed Mexico as a relatively inexpensive vacation with free flowing alcohol and long sandy beaches. As an unspoken rule, the cartels didn’t allow the violence to spill into tourist areas, but it happened on occasion.
“Why is everyone starting at us?”
Rever looked up from the laminated menu and tapped the corner of the wooden table. “Get used to it.”
“How do they know who we are?”
“The staff probably knows or suspects something and the rest of them are sensing the tension.”
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally.
Rever stood. “All right. Let’s get out of here.”
“How far is the walk?” I asked, following him.
“A couple of blocks. Maybe less, but either way he won’t have any idea we’re coming.”
I fingered the top of my gun under my linen blazer. Sweat trickled down the middle of my back, and I wanted to strip off the jacket and dump it in the trash, but Mexican gun laws were really strict. I didn’t want to be caught on the wrong side of the law right now. Ignacio had plenty of governmental officials on his payroll, and he could make the charge disappear with one phone call, but I couldn’t stomach being indebted to him for anything else.
Five minutes later Rever paused in front of the blue door of Emanuel’s house. He slipped his gun from the holster behind his back. “I’m going in first.”
I nodded. “I’ve got your back.”
Rever glanced over his shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “You better, asshole. This was all your idea. If it fails, I’m blaming you.”
He didn’t wait for my response. He shot the deadbolt on the door. The wood splintered, and I shaded my face, protecting my eyes from the flying debris. With his gun in front of his body, he kicked the door open. Following his lead, I slid my gun out of the holster.
Emanuel stepped out of the shadows, his gun drawn. “What the hell are you two doing here?”
“Put your gun down before I put a bullet between your eyes,” Rever said, his voice cold as ice.
The veins on the side of Emanuel’s neck pulsed with anger. “Ignacio is going to kill both of you.”
&nbs
p; “We’ll take our chances with Ignacio.” I pulled the trigger of my gun and successfully shot him in the foot, immobilizing him.
The gun slipped from his hand, and he stumbled forward onto one knee. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You know,” I started, “after I talked to you last week, I had an epiphany.” I tapped my gun against my thigh.
“You’re crazy,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“All this time, you were pretending to be Ignacio’s faithful servant without any ambition for more,” I continued, ignoring his words. “Then, I realized you not only wanted more, but you were also actively manipulating Ignacio and Juan to consolidate the resources of the two most powerful cartels in this region behind you. Only Ignacio and Juan were too stupid to see you for what you are.”
“You’ll never prove anything,” he taunted, reaching for his gun on the floor in front of him.
Pop!
I shot his hand.
“You piece of shit. You’re going to kill me.”
“He’s right,” Rever said, his voice eerily flat. “You shouldn’t toy with him before we get him to the torture room. If he loses too much blood, we’ll have to let him recover before the fun starts, and I’m in the mood to see lots of blood. I have so many plans for him.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m an immediate gratification type of guy. Maybe we could do it here.”
“Nah. We have better tools at the compound. We should wait.”
Emanuel grabbed a knife from the inside of his pant leg. He lurched forward and it flew through the air in slow motion heading for Rever.
“Rever, watch out,” I screamed, but it was too late.
The knife plunged into Rever’s shoulder. He staggered backward, falling to his knees. His eyes widened, and his lips parted. I charged forward, tackling Emanuel. His head cracked against the tile floor. My legs straddling his waist, I wrapped my hands around his neck. Emanuel clawed at my arm, but I didn’t feel anything. I wanted to strangle the life from his body second by second. His lips turned blue. His eyes bulged. His legs twitched. A haze of red filled my vision as I summoned the specter of death with my bare hands.
“That’s enough,” Rever grunted. He pulled the knife from his shoulder and tossed it on the floor. Blood oozed out of his wound, staining his white shirt.
“No.” I tightened my hands around his neck. “He helped Juan Alvarez abduct Hattie. She could’ve been killed.”
Rever slid a pair of handcuffs across the floor. “Yeah, well, we need to get a confession before you kill him. Otherwise, we’ll never get Ignacio to do what we want him to do.”
My body sagged, and my grip on his neck loosened. “Fuck,” I yelled, slamming my fist into the wall behind me. White dust coated my knuckles.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get the chance to do whatever you want with him,” Rever said, cupping his shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers.
I spat on Emanuel’s face and flipped him onto his back. I snapped one ring of the cuffs around his wrist and the other around the iron stair railing.
“Take my car keys,” Rever said, dangling them from his fingers.
I snatched them out of his hand and started moving toward the front door.
“Text me when you’re out front and get the duct tape out of the glove box.”
“I’m on it. See you in a few minutes.”
“Hurry the fuck up. I don’t want to get in a gun fight while you’re gone.” His hardened gaze drifted across the room. “I have to find some bleach to clean this mess up. I don’t want it to look like we murdered someone in here.” He chuckled at his own joke. “That’ll come later. Much later.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hattie
Sunlight streamed through the edges of the dark brown wooden blinds. I stretched my arms over my head, rolled onto my side and inhaled. Even though weeks had passed since Ryker had slept in this bed, I pretended I could smell his scent. Honestly, it smelled more like laundry detergent than anything else.
“You’re awake. I was afraid you planned to sleep until lunchtime,” Noah said, tapping a magazine against his thigh. A slim bar of light slashed across the sharp angles of his face, making the lower half light and the upper half dark.
“I was tired. I didn’t go to bed until late.” I scooted up to the headboard. “Speaking of which, have you heard from Ryker?”
“No.” He glanced to the side, his eyes distant. “Nothing.”
I eyed him somberly, wishing I could ignore the persistent stabbing in my chest. “But you’ve heard something, right?”
He scrubbed his hand down the side of his face. “Just that there are some internal power struggles going on inside the Vargas Cartel.”
I buried my hands in the sheets. “You’re scaring me. What does that mean?”
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. The rolled up magazine dangled from one hand. “I don’t have all the details.”
“What details do you have?”
“Emanuel, Ignacio’s right-hand man, disappeared a couple of days ago. His apartment was covered in blood. Nobody knows if he’s alive. Rumors place Rever and Ryker in the area around the time he went missing, but that doesn’t mean a whole helluva a lot.”
I cringed. “Do you think they killed him?”
“If they haven’t killed him, they will soon.”
My mouth dropped open, and my gut heaved. “Seriously? Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know for sure.” He exhaled, unrolled the magazine and held up the cover for me to see it. “On a different note, we did it.”
I scanned the glossy cover. Senator Deveron had his head bowed, and dark sunglasses covered his eyes. A blurb on the left-hand column in bright yellow print said, Senator Deveron funded by Mexican drug cartels.
I jumped out of bed and snatched the magazine out of his hand. “I didn’t believe they’d actually do it.”
Noah stood. “Go to page ten.”
I flipped open the magazine and scanned the story. “This is so good. They didn’t hold back at all.”
“Nope.”
I closed the magazine. “So what happens now?”
“We sit back and watch the show. The mainstream media has picked up the story. It’s only a matter of time before he’s forced to resign.”
A warm glow trickled through my veins. For the first time in two weeks, I could finally breathe. “Do you think he’ll go to jail?”
“He should.” Noah shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “I think that’s up to the Department of Justice, but I think you have some strings you can pull there,” he said, referencing my dad.
“You’re right.” I tossed the magazine on top of the bed and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Thanks so much for your help. I know Ryker’s paying you, but you didn’t have to do it. You probably have better things to do than play babysitter and accompany me to meetings.”
He leaned back and my hands slid from his body. “I would’ve done it for free.” He brushed his knuckles along my jaw, and my heart tripped in my chest. “You needed help and I wanted to be the one to help you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”
Unease trickled down my spine. I laughed nervously and backpedaled a few steps, my eyes trained on the grains of hardwood beneath my bare feet.
“It all worked out. It led me to Ryker so I can’t be mad about that. He makes me happy.”
He took one step closer to me, his golden eyes focused on me with enough heat to unnerve me. The air around us pressed against my chest, suffocating me. “Does he really make you happy or is that just what you want to believe?”
I shook my head slowly from side to side, never taking my eyes off him. “Noah, what’s going on? What are you doing?”
He grabbed my hand. “Why are you with Ryker?”
My throat thickened. “Because I love him,” I choked out.
His lips pursed into a tight line. “Do you really? Or
are you just holding onto him because you don’t feel like you have anyone else who cares about you? Or because of the baby?”
Tension curled my muscles into tight balls, and my pulse galloped inside my chest. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.” I yanked my hand away from him.
“You do understand that Ryker and Rever are trying to wrestle control of the Vargas Cartel from Ignacio.”
“Why would they do that? Neither of them wants anything to do with it.”
“They didn’t want anything to do with the cartel when it meant being controlled by Ignacio. If they could call the shots, they might feel differently. That’s what is going on right now, or at least that’s what my sources suspect.”
Stunned, hurt, and angry didn’t begin to express how I felt at that moment. My stomach swirled uncomfortably, and my knees wilted. I stumbled backward and sat on the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
“I didn’t want to spell it out. I wanted you to read between the lines.”
I pressed my palms into my eyes, willing the tears to disappear. I needed to be strong. I promised Ryker I’d be strong. He promised we’d end up together, and I still wanted a life with him even if it meant I’d be the wife of a notorious drug lord. I nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of my reality.
“Do you realize what you’ll be giving up to be with him?”
My hands dropped from my face. “I think I have an idea?” The words came out as a question.
“You’d be ostracized by your family. You won’t be able to come back to the States. Ryker would keep you tucked away in a glass cage for the rest of your—”
“No, he wouldn’t,” I said, interrupting him.
“He wouldn’t have any choice. If he didn’t, his rivals would use you to get to him.”
Even though I wanted to sink to my knees, I pretended to be unfazed. I stood, ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut. “I trust Ryker. He would never do anything like that.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I need to get dressed. Please leave.”
His heated stare settled on me, and it felt like I was standing in front of the pearly gates on judgment day. My gaze dipped to my feet, and I studied the circular grains on the hardwood floor. I had to look away. Otherwise, I think I would’ve shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces.