Carrera Cartel: The Collection

by Kenborn, Cora

  “What did you do, Eden?”

  “Shooting cans is easy, Val,” she said with a knowing glint in her eye. “You just hold the gun on your target, allow your finger to barely touch the trigger, and let it go limp.”

  As she threw my own words back in my face, I knew immediately what she’d done. I looked away, not wanting to hear her say it any more than she wanted to admit it.

  She’d murdered Manuel Muñoz.

  Still, her supreme smugness drove me to point out one glaring omission she seemed to gloss over. “Eden, Marisol Muñoz is still out there.”

  Acknowledging me with a curt nod, Eden intertwined our fingers, turning them so her palm faced up. “Marisol Muñoz won’t be a problem. Call it women’s intuition, whatever you want. She said it herself; she doesn’t have the stomach for the rough stuff. She’s a planner. Without an army, she’s nothing.”

  “Cereza, she has an entire cartel.”

  She shook her head defiantly. “No, Manuel had an entire cartel. Why do you think she hid behind him the entire time? Do you seriously think all those men would pledge their allegiance to a woman who couldn’t even stay in the same room to witness her biggest enemy’s execution? I don’t think so. No, she’s in the wind.”

  Fuck, I loved that woman’s mind. “You’re kind of brilliant, Eden Lachey.”

  “Aw, you’re just saying that because it’s true.” Flashing a devoted smile, she squeezed our hands.

  “Get your ass in this bed,” I commanded, pulling the sheet back.

  Her brows pulled together as she glanced around at the wires hooked up to me. “I don’t know, Val. The bullet tore your liver. You were in surgery a long time. I don’t want to bruise anything.”

  “The only thing you’re going to bruise is my ego if you don’t get that hot ass beside me, Cereza.”

  Moving slowly, she snuggled in, taking care to keep her weight off me. I ran my fingers through her hair as she played with the frayed edges of my hospital gown. “Val, can I ask you a question?”

  “Depends on what it is.”

  “Why was Brody with you? How do you know him, and how did you find me? I was out most of the time, but I know we were in a car and a plane, then a boat. Eventually we crossed the border to that god-awful house in the middle of nowhere. There’s no way you found that by accident.”

  I debated on whether to tell her the truth, then decided what we went through in that basement had given us a clean slate. Lying to her would only taint it. Taking her questions one at a time, I explained my relationship with Brody Harcourt, and how he used his connections to track her to the rural house that didn’t exist.

  Reaching under the neckline of the ugly scrubs she wore, I pulled out the broken Santa Muerte pendant and tapped it. “GPS.”

  As she glanced down at the pendant in my hands she shook her head and frowned. “You tracked me like a dog too? What the fuck is wrong with you, Val?”

  Raising a hand, I effectively silenced her. “You can be mad at me all you want, but I won’t be sorry. You were volatile before we left, and I couldn’t take the risk of something happening to you. Besides,” I said, giving it one last tap, before letting it drop back down against her taped ribs. “It saved your life.”

  She sat silent for a moment. I watched her, waiting for the eventual curve of a smile that told me I was forgiven. Eden never stayed mad at me for long.

  Yet, the longer the muscles in her jaw tightened, the more rattled I became. In any other situation, we’d argue, throw shit, hurl insults, then fuck the mad out of each other until we couldn’t walk. That’s just the way Eden and I worked.

  But, lying in a hospital bed, with a newly-closed gash healing above my stomach, sex was off the table. I didn’t know how to reach her, and I didn’t like it. “Eden?”

  “I’m still mad at you,” she finally offered, running the pad of her thumb across the top of mine. “But I don’t have a good argument for what you said. You’re right. It did save my life, and I guess I should be grateful.”

  “Damn right you should.”

  She fought a smile. “Don’t push it.”

  I studied her face as a piece of candy-red hair fell across her eye. Pushing it back, her gaze lowered to the wires protruding from my chest. If anyone had told me a month ago—hell, a week ago—I’d have made the risky decisions I did to be with her, I’d have laughed in their face. I’d been a man who built a reputation on fear and destruction. Emotional attachments had no place in my world and only served to weaken me. I’d never missed something I’d never had.

  The second Eden Lachey stormed into my life, something inside me knew I’d never be the same. As volatile as our circumstances were, I knew she’d be the one to get in and make me question everything I’d ever known. After touching her for the first time, I vowed I'd never be denied the light she brought to my darkness or the morality she crossed with my wickedness.

  For her, I would and did risk it all.

  Suppressing a groan from the searing pain tearing across my abdomen, I twisted a hand around her hair and tugged her down to me. “Come here, Cereza.”

  “Val…” She pulled back gently, bracing a hand on the mattress. “You just got out of surgery. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  “What I think,” I growled, impatiently, “is that you’ve been taken from me for too long. I’m owed this.”

  “Well, as long as you have a good reason.” Laughing softly, she held her weight on her arms as she lowered her lips and gently pressed them against mine.

  Oh, hell no.

  Tightening my fingers in her hair, I forced her lips open and tasted every inch of her mouth. It was like coming home.

  Breaking the kiss, she rested her forehead against mine. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”

  We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us speaking, until she glanced toward the door. “Mateo is probably pacing outside like a caged animal. I guess I should give him his turn with you.”

  “Wait.” I grabbed her arm, holding her inquisitive stare. “You need to call Janine. We may not have a physical building anymore, but RVC is still an operational company for now.”

  Her eyebrows lifted in question. “Why would I call Janine?”

  “To put your townhouse on the market. You’ve got to find a buyer before we leave.”

  “Leave? Where are we going, Val?”

  She couldn’t be serious. After all we’d been through, she had to know it’d come to this. “Eden, when I get out of here, I’m moving back to Mexico. My men need me there to run the day-to-day operations.” I searched her face for signs of understanding. “I thought you knew this. In Mexico, you asked me if I came to take over the cartel.”

  “But, I thought after everything happened with Manuel and Marisol…I just thought…”

  “Cereza, we’ve cut off the head of the dragon, but it doesn’t mean it won’t grow another one. The Muñoz Cartel won’t lay down and die just because Manuel did. This is my life and my legacy. I can’t turn my back on it.” Her blue eyes reddened as she dropped my hand. Warning sirens raged in my ears and my chest tightened. “Eden, I need you with me. I can’t do this without you.”

  With tears spilling down her face, she wrapped her arms protectively around her chest. “I killed a man, Val. I sold my soul to get revenge for my brother. I got it, but I don’t feel any better. I thought I’d have this weight lifted off my shoulders once Manuel was dead, but instead it’s gotten heavier. It almost destroyed me when Nash died, and when I thought I’d lost you. I’d convinced myself I could eventually deal with it because everything was over, but you’re asking me to live with that worry on a daily basis. I can’t…I can’t do that.”

  I couldn’t think straight. I’d lay down my life for her, and she was walking away from me. As she pulled back, I grabbed her arm, my heart racing. “What are you saying, Eden?”

  “My home is in Houston, Val.
We can have a good life here.”

  “What life, Cereza? Who’s left here for you? You have no family.”

  A sad look crossed her face at the same time as a dejected smile dusted her lips. “I am. I’m stronger than I was before, and I have you to thank for that. I’ve learned to depend on no one but myself and that will protect me for the rest of my life. The word family doesn’t exist for me anymore, Val. Families protect each other no matter what the cost. For my father, the price was too high.” Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on my lips again. “Te amo.”

  Moving off the bed, she walked toward the door and out of my life.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Eden

  Six Weeks Later

  “Thanks, Janine.” Tucking the phone under my chin, I reached for a white wine glass from overhead. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be by in the morning to sign the papers. I appreciate everything. Have a good weekend.”

  Dropping the phone on the counter, the hardware store flashed in my mind. Earlier in the morning, I’d cleaned out the last box at the store and turned the key, locking the door to my past and the last reminder of the cursed Lachey legacy. The new CEO and liaison at RVC Enterprises, Janine Banfield, worked relentlessly and found a buyer for Lachey Hardware who was willing to pay close to my full asking price. The money would be enough that I could take a little time for myself before selling everything else I owned.

  I had no idea where I’d move, but my home held nothing but memories for me—some bad, some good, and some that still tore my heart in two. I needed a fresh start and sticking around constant reminders wouldn’t allow me a chance to put what had happened behind me.

  “Eden, are you going to pour that wine or dance with it?”

  Shaken out of my thoughts, I shot an annoyed glance at Tiffany as she tapped her toe on the other side of the bar. Snickering, she motioned to the bottle of Kendall Jackson I hugged to my chest as I narrowed my eyes.

  Bitch.

  Tightening my grip on the bottle, I imagined it was her neck as I turned to the nice dressed couple at the end of the bar. “Chardonnay, right?” A woman with way too much makeup nodded, and I over-poured on purpose.

  Screw this bar and their rules.

  Bending over, I shoved the bottle into the mini cooler as Tiffany tapped her toe behind me again.

  “If you want to keep that toe attached to your foot, I suggest you stop.”

  Shifting her toe behind her opposite heel, she crossed her arms over her massive chest. “We’re not supposed to be on our phones while we’re at work.”

  Slamming the refrigerator door, I stepped in close and lowered my voice to a warning growl. “We’re also not supposed to wear uniform sizes that fit a fucking toddler. Now get out of my face before I get that wine bottle back out and break it over your head.”

  With her mouth forming a perfect circle, Tiffany shook her bleached blonde hair and stomped off with her ass hanging out of her Lycra shorts.

  God, I hate these outfits.

  I felt and looked beyond stupid in the black booty-shorts and half-shirt announcing to everyone that I was a ‘Naughty Irish Girl.’ Besides, I was Scottish, not that anyone cared.

  After leaving Caliente, I realized Nash had been right. I had no skills other than the ability to mix a Long Island Iced Tea in under forty-five seconds. After searching through every trash can in my house, I finally found one of the University of Texas brochures he’d stuffed in my purse and started the application for admission and financial aid. While I waited to hear if I got accepted, I got a job doing what I did best—slinging drinks. Only this time, instead of shaking margaritas in a Mexican cantina, I poured Guinness in the shittiest Irish pub in town.

  Cashing out my bartender book, I nodded to Zach, the newest hire, who’d come to relieve my shift. He was a nice guy with a mop of sandy brown hair and a beard he tried hard to grow. Maybe one day he’d succeed.

  “Hi, Eden. How’s tips?”

  “Shitty, as usual.”

  “Tiffany here?”

  I rolled my eyes and pointed my thumb over my shoulder toward the manager’s office. “Unfortunately, yes, and probably ratting me out for threatening to cut off her toes.”

  Zach laughed until I glanced up from grabbing my purse from underneath the bar, my eyes cold and serious. He swallowed uncomfortably, and a satisfied smirk coated my face.

  “Enjoy your night, Zach. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure thing, Eden.”

  Pushing the heavy, wooden door open, I inhaled the mild, seventy degree, September weather. With a full chest and clear mind, I realized the exchange with Zach epitomized the new Eden Lachey.

  The person that walked into the hardware store that June morning was no longer me. Even the way I reacted to situations and people had drastically changed.

  I’d never again be anyone’s victim or second choice.

  * * *

  I knew the day would come, whether I pretended it existed or not. I could tell myself as much as I wanted I was prepared for it and could work through it. Keeping my mind occupied proved to be useless.

  September second, my brother would’ve turned twenty-eight years old. Initially full of anger, the indignant side of me wanted to blow the whole day off and get drunk. By the time my car left the bar, I knew what I had to do, and where I was headed.

  I walked out of the supermarket and ripped open the box of popsicles before I reached my car. Hitting the gas with a heavy foot, I rolled down the window and tossed all the orange and purple popsicles onto the highway, one by one, until only a box of red ones remained.

  Holding the box tightly, I dropped everything on my way from the front door of my townhouse to the deck, not bothering to care where they landed.

  One right after another, I sat by myself and ate almost the entire box until my lips were numb.

  * * *

  “Yes, I understand. Thank you, Officer Helms.”

  Placing the phone back on the glass table to my side, I shook my head at the reach Val had across the border and deep into law enforcement. Nash and my father’s disappearances were classified as missing person cases, boxed and buried in files never to be reopened. As far as the Houston Police Department was concerned, my only family would be missing until the end of time.

  Only, I knew their bodies would never be found. If they even still existed at all.

  Still huddled on my deck, I faced the city lights and chased the red drip of the last remaining popsicle with my tongue as it ran down my arm. Shifting in my lounger, I hugged the empty box to my chest as my eyes clouded with tears.

  * * *

  “I look like I’ve shoved my hands up a baboon’s ass, thanks Nash.” Holding my red-stained hands out for his inspection, I threw the dark red sponge in the sink and rolled my eyes at him.

  Nash just grinned. “You should’ve come home and checked your mail instead of going to the bar with one of your ex’s fraternity brothers.”

  “I was just blowing off some steam, big brother. I’m allowed after all I’ve been through, don’t you think?”

  Folding his hands in his lap, Nash seemed to take a moment to choose his words. “Be careful around Brody Harcourt, Cherry. I know him well enough, but I don’t trust him…especially with my sister.”

  “Will you please stop calling me that?”

  “No.” He laughed, his resolve to tease me relentlessly obvious.

  Plopping down in a lounger beside him, I stared out at the city lights of Houston from the deck of my townhouse. “What is it about me that makes everyone leave, Nash? First Mom, now Davis.” Lowering my chin, a shudder shook me as I fought the impending breakdown I’d held in for so long. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

  Reaching over, Nash grabbed the arm rest of my chair and dragged it over until it touched his. As he wrapped his strong arm around my shoulder, I rested my forehead against his chest, and breathed in his familiar Giorgio Armani cologne. “Nothin
g is wrong with you, Cherry Pop. You should never change to meet anyone else’s expectations. If they can’t love you for the amazing, strong, and adorably quirky person you are…fuck ‘em. They aren’t worth you or your time.”

  “But what about you? You’re all I have left, Nash. If you ever left me, I don’t think I could handle it.”

  Giving me a squeeze, he kissed the top of my head. “I swear to you, Edie, no matter where we end up in life, I’ll always be here for you.” Chuckling, he picked up one of my beet red stained hands and held it up. “Besides, there isn’t any situation that can’t be fixed by red dye number forty and a hug from your big brother.”

  * * *

  I wiped the tears as they fell and bit the tip off the popsicle.

  I’d have to settle for red dye number forty tonight.

  Snapped out of my memory by the shrill ring of my phone, I dropped the melting popsicle on the glass table and glanced at the caller ID.

  “Were your ears burning? I was just talking about you.”

  “With who?” Brody asked, his voice curious.

  “Nash.”

  “Cherry, have you been drinking?”

  His concern for my sanity made me laugh out loud. “What’s up, Brody?”

  “I know it’s late, but are you busy? Can I come over?”

  “Look,” I sighed. “We talked about this, remember? I like you, and you’re a good friend, but just because he’s gone doesn’t mean I’m ready to see anyone else right now.”

  Or ever.

  “Yes, I know that, Eden. You’ve made that perfectly clear on multiple occasions,” he retorted dryly. “Besides, the last thing I plan to do is get on the wrong side of Val Carrera. Been there, done that, don’t ever plan on it again.”

  My spine stiffened at the mention of his name. “We’re not together, Brody. You know that.”