Heavy footsteps lumbered down the hallway, and within seconds, Alex stood in front of my cell twirling a set of handcuffs around his finger. “Well, it looks like your girlfriend has agreed to testify against you,” he announced, a smug lift in his voice. “I’m happy to say you’re going to be arrested.”
I briefly held his eye before leaning my head against the wall and staring at the ceiling. “Am I supposed to be shocked?”
He chuckled. “You’ll see the judge in twelve hours. Stand up, Cortes. Time to smile pretty for the camera.”
* * *
I let out a sigh of relief as a bald officer with a tree trunk for a neck shoved me into a new cell and slammed the door.
“Might want to get comfortable, asshole. I hear processing is slow with paperwork tonight,” he sneered, squeezing one of the bars with his ridiculously huge bicep to intimidate me. Too bad I wasn’t impressed. Bullets flew faster than fists.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against the wall. “Might want to lay off the gym candy, Arnold. I hear juicing shrinks your nuts.”
I hit a nerve—or at least one of the veins currently popping out in what used to be his neck—because he slammed his hand against the bar and muttered a few unoriginal racial slurs before stomping off. The whole thing would’ve made me laugh if it didn’t bore me so much. Men like him riled up so easily it lost all entertainment value.
Sighing, I glanced around the room, fatigue setting in. There weren’t any clocks, but the grit in my eyes told me it’d been at least twenty-four hours since Leighton and I had been dragged out of the townhouse. Just from experience, I knew even if someone posted bail immediately, it would be six to eight hours before I walked out of here.
“What a dick.” Pushing off the wall, I turned toward the hard bench when a low laugh drifted in from the next cell. Walking back toward the bars, I pressed my face against them and craned my neck. “Something funny?”
“Yeah, you.” A heavy Mexican accent floated between his own bars as a pair of arms dangled between them. “That pinche cabrón’s name is really Dick.”
I laughed despite the fucked-up situation. “Of course it is.”
“What’d you do to land your ass back in tambo?” he asked, his hands gesturing toward our neighboring cells. “I thought you were in Mexico City livin’ the good life on that big ass yacht.”
It irritated the hell out of me that I couldn’t see his face. Obviously, he’d seen me walk in and knew who I was. Only someone on the inside would know my rank and that Val had a weakness for the open sea.
Not sure who might be listening, I switched to our native Mexican dialect. “Quién eres tú y cuál es tú rango?” Who are you, and what’s your rank?
“No importa,” he growled, pulling his hands back and all but disappearing into his cell. “No hay necesidad de rango si no hay cartel.” It doesn’t matter. There’s no rank if there’s no cartel.
I started to remind him the Carrera hold on Houston was just as powerful as ever when his strong reaction triggered the full meaning of what he’d said.
If there’s no cartel.
I pressed my forehead against the cold steel. “Eres un oficial de Muñoz.” You’re a Muñoz official.
It wasn’t a question. I had no doubt we were two made men who’d battled on opposite sides of a war fought on the same soil. The Muñoz Cartel had been our only rival, and it dismantled just before I returned to Mexico four months ago, crippled after the death of their leader, Manuel Muñoz.
I should know. I was there when Val’s wife pulled the trigger.
“Sí,” he confirmed, switching back to broken English. “My congratulations to your boss and his wife on their bouncing baby psychopath.”
I jerked against the bars, hissing out a warning, “Ten cuidado con tu maldita lengua, o la arrancaré de tu boca.” Watch your fucking tongue, or I’ll rip it out.
“Calm the hell down, Cortes,” he chastised, fueling my anger. “Nobody’s around. They think they’ve got you by the balls, so they don’t give a shit to listen anymore.”
“Why? Did Dick tell you that? Do you two have pillow talk after he pounds you in the ass?”
Fuck it. If he wanted to be an asshole, so could I.
Instead of pissing him off, my insult made him laugh. “Word on the street is Delgado and Diaz are dead. Sounds like an inter-personnel problem to me.”
I backed up. “What do you know?”
He paced while running his fingers across the bars—a stall technique designed to make me crazy. It was working.
“If you think Atwood is your only problem, you’ve been in Mexico too long,” he said, coming to a halt.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Houston isn’t that big, amigo. I have no interest in helping a Carrera, but, unlike your boss, when it comes down to another oficial or a narcopolitico, I side with my own.” A hint of hostility crept into his voice, but I listened intently without interjecting. “You need to ask yourself who had the most to gain by shutting those two up permanently. Seems to me your problem is our fine mayor.”
His insinuation hung in the air. “Lilith Donovan may be corrupt, and she’s definitely a puta—but a murderer?”
His feet shuffled again. The next time he spoke, his voice was so close it sounded less than an arm’s length away. “Three of your men knew she liked to walk on the wild side. Two are dead. I’d ask the third before he is too.”
No. Only five people knew about that.
“You’re lying.”
He muttered under his breath. “You should know better than anyone how power can close steel bars. You think I’m facing twenty to life because I’m careless? I made a deal that went bad. Two guesses on who it was with.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Leighton
I wore white.
What seemed like a perfectly logical idea walking in now felt ridiculous as I exited the courthouse dressed in the abomination that now flapped in the breeze like a giant virginal flag.
Such an over-the-top gesture was unnecessary, but I’d walked into the clerk’s office with my head held high and asked for Melinda, speaking with conviction while signing both mine and Mateo’s names to a Declaration of Informal Marriage form. My hand didn’t even shake as I paid the obligatory thirty-one dollars, slipping Melinda two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills for her trouble.
Now, standing on the steps outside, I glanced down at my outfit with disdain. The long-sleeved, baby doll dress was covered in so much white lace I looked like an oversized toddler, but it was done.
In the eyes of the state of Texas, Mateo and I were married.
“Leighton? Do you want to sit down?” A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, dragging me out of my fog.
“No,” I said, letting out a resigned breath. “They’ll be here soon to pick us up.”
She squeezed my shoulder then settled her hand over her small belly. I snuck a glance out of the corner of my eye. Other than looking like she’d swallowed a toy ball, Eden Lachey hadn’t changed much. She still had shocking bright red hair that was piled on top of her head, but it was the black dress she wore that made me laugh. Sexy and form-fitting, when paired next to my sacrificial virgin costume, we looked like the living embodiment of yin and yang.
“You’re right,” she said, staring straight ahead with a slight nod. “I probably wouldn’t get back up without a crane anyway.”
I appreciated that she didn’t push me. Marriage may have bound us into some twisted sisterhood, but it would take a lot more than a piece of paper for us to link arms and start calling each other “bestie.”
However, I was curious how things were going. Brody had insisted that I meet him at his apartment, so he could drive me to the courthouse himself. I humored him, not expecting to find Eden and the Carrera kingpin himself sitting in his living room.
“Do you think Val found someone to post the money he put up for Mateo’s bail?”
“Absolutely
. One thing you’ll learn is that most everyone can be bought. Usually, the ones with the highest moral compass are the ones with highest price tag.”
“That’s depressing.”
“It’s reality,” she countered, cocking her chin with a sympathetic stare. “Something tells me you know more about it than you’re willing to admit.” I stiffened, and she let out a sigh. “Look, Leighton, I know what it’s like. You feel like you can’t trust anyone. There’s a voice inside you telling you if you take your foot off that ledge and leap, you’ll lose the only part of you that’s ever made any sense. Because what our men do?” She shook her head. “I’ll never try to convince you it makes any sense, but I’m here if you need a friend.”
“Then why did you leap?” I had to know why a perfectly sane woman would leave everything behind to follow a criminal.
“Love.” She smiled as a black Land Rover pulled up by the curb. “I considered the consequences of living a life with Val or without Val. The reward of being with him outweighed any risk waiting for me in this life or the next.”
The window of the Land Rover rolled down and Valentin Carrera poked his head out, his eyes shielded by reflective sunglasses. His hair was shorter than Mateo’s but just as dark, the longer strands at the top slicked back.
“Cereza, get in the car,” he called out. “We have a groom to collect.”
Eden grinned, grabbing my hand and leading me down the steps. Just before climbing in, I caught Brody’s eye. Forcing a smile, he tightened his hold on the steering wheel and blew out a nervous breath.
Me too, big brother. Me too.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Leighton
In the middle of wringing my hands, I froze. A side door opened, and Mateo walked out, flanked by two uniformed officers. He looked like a wild animal ready to strike, but it was the feral look in his eyes that stole my breath.
Needing to regain my focus, I turned my gaze toward my brother. “Now what?”
Brody hesitated, eventually stepping between us. “Now I pronounce you...whatever this is.” He opened his fist revealing two gold bands. They weren’t fancy—just simple circles. Reaching for Mateo’s wrist, Brody tilted his hand and deposited both bands into his palm. “There’s a big show outside, kids,” he said, frowning. “Put your game faces on.”
“Mom?” I asked with a sigh.
“She’s worried about you, Lil’ Bit. She’s just doing what she thinks is right.” He smiled while shaking his head.
“For who, though?”
He didn’t answer. Maybe it was for the best. My brother would never see anything but the best in our mother, and who was I to try to sway him? Besides, if her contacts came through for her and found Stella, maybe I’d be the one swayed.
As the three of us walked toward the door, I slowed my stride. Both men turned around, ready to bark commands at the same time when I held up a hand.
“Brody, I think you should stay behind.”
“Why?”
Taking his elbow, I led him toward the tinted window and pointed toward the meticulously landscaped grass covered in wires, cameras, microphones, and hungry anchors. “That’s why. The last thing you need is to be photographed coming out of the police department with a suspected cartel member and his new wife.”
“What about you guys?”
I snorted. “And miss all the fun? Not on your life.”
For once, Brody didn’t argue, pulling out a set of keys and handing them to Mateo. “I had a soldier park your Tahoe one block over in the alley.” Giving me a quick kiss on the forehead, he glared at Mateo. “Take care of my sister, Cortes.”
Before either of us could say a word, he was gone.
After a beat of silence, Mateo brushed my hair away from my eyes. “Te ves hermosa.” You look beautiful.
“Thank you.” My cheeks heated under his gaze.
“I think there’s only one thing left to do.” Holding my left hand, he kissed the small gold band before slowly slipping it on my finger. “For now, mi amor, this will serve as a reminder of my vow. I’ll die for you, and even then, I’ll fight my way back from hell to die for you again.”
Taking the other ring from him, my hands trembled, but I managed to slide it on his finger without dropping it. I didn’t have the perfect words to say, so, I just quoted a certain redhead who suddenly made a lot of sense.
“For you, Matty, I’ll leap.”
He smiled, and although I knew he didn’t understand my vow, I didn’t mind.
Our fingers entwined as we stepped outside. A microphone squealed as my mother’s voice commanded everyone’s attention. “My daughter is a victim here, not an accomplice. She was acting as an informant when members of the Carrera Cartel obviously threatened her.”
My feet moved on their own, carrying me toward the podium. It wasn’t until I was a few steps away that I realized Mateo was gone. Panicking, I scanned the crowd until I saw him leaning against the side of the police station. Lifting his left hand, he kissed his ring.
The words were silent. The meaning was clear.
You can do this, but you can do it alone.
He hadn’t deserted me. Mateo stood back, giving me room to leap.
The minute my mother saw me, she motioned me toward the podium, linking our arms in solidarity. “Speak, darling.”
Instead of making a scene, I settled into my new role. “Thank you all for coming, but I have nothing to say.”
“Did Mateo Cortes kill Hector Diaz? Is he part of the Carrera Cartel?”
The barrage of rapid fire questions came out of nowhere, but I remained calm. “I can’t comment on that. A wife can’t be coerced into saying anything incriminating about her husband.”
A gasp rushed over the crowd. “Husband?”
“Yes,” I answered, keeping my answer concise. “I’m married to Mateo Cortes.” I held up my left hand and flashed my ring. Behind me, my mother let out an Oscar-worthy cry.
A morning show anchor pushed her way to the front. “Are you saying the mayor’s daughter is the wife of an alleged cartel member?”
“No, my mother has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve been in love with Mateo Cortes since I was eighteen.”
The same blonde focused on my mother. “Why have you never mentioned you had a granddaughter, Mayor Donovan?”
I stepped back, happy to let her tap dance her way out of this one alone. Maybe if she hadn’t been so quick to believe her abusive husband over her own child, I would’ve given her a chance to know her granddaughter—hell, even given her a chance to realize she had one.
“Well, as you all know, my daughter and I were slightly estranged...” she explained, stumbling over her words.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Mateo’s eyes filled with fierce pride as I walked toward him.
“Leighton, can you explain why your daughter, Estella James, has been missing for over a week? According to our sources, no one has seen her. Has she become a victim of the cartel as well?”
Fuck. If anyone found out where she was, there would be a witch hunt, and everything would unravel. I turned around with fire in my eyes. “My daughter is in San Marcos visiting my grandparents. Get your fucking facts straight.”
“Leighton!” My mother called after me repeatedly, but Mateo wrapped an arm around my waist and led me around the side of the building and toward the Tahoe.
A few yards away, sharp nails dug into my arm and spun me around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I waved my gold band in her face again. “I’m celebrating the sanctity of marriage. You shouldn’t frown, Mother. It causes wrinkles.”
She smacked my hand away. “These people killed your father, and now Finn is missing. If you’re trying to get back at me for being an overprotective mother, that’s fine, but ruining our family isn’t the way to do it.”
I took one look in her selfish face and laughed.
“I don’t see anything funny about this situation,” she
hissed, grabbing my arm.
Stiffening, Mateo stepped forward, but I stopped him with a shake of my head. The last thing I wanted was to give her a reason to have him arrested again. Besides, I could handle her.
“I know, Mother,” I said, jerking out of her hold. “It’s because you honestly think everything is about you, but marrying Mateo has nothing to do with you.”
“Lower your voice.”
“Right.” Crossing my arms, I drew a tired breath. “Wouldn’t want the fact that I actually love my husband to make headlines, would we?”
Her shrill laugh echoed in the empty street. “If you think you know all his secrets, you’re a fool,” she warned. “He stole your innocence by staining your hands with blood.”
A radiating numbness spread through my body. “How do you know that?”
“Oh, please, Leighton. I know what you’ve done. I’m the mayor. I have access to all police reports.”
Which would be fine. If Alex had ever filed one.
Turning my back, I power walked the rest of the way to the Tahoe. Mateo kept up with me, wisely not speaking. I had no tears for what just happened. Tears made me feel weak, and I needed the strength of an army.
Just as I reached for the passenger’s side door, Mateo spun me around and held my face in his hands. “Did you mean what you said?”
“I said a lot of things.”
“What you said to your mother. You told her you loved me. Was that for the cameras?”
I trailed my hands down his chest, gripping his shirt in my hands. “There weren’t any cameras on us, Mateo. You’ve known how I felt ever since the first night you picked me up and carried me away.”
Carrera Cartel: The Collection Page 54