by LP Lovell
It rings and instead of going to voicemail someone picks up. “Ah, ese, have a nice stay at the Holiday Inn?” he laughs and all that does is piss me off even more. “I told David to take good care of you. I see he gave you your phone.”
“Tor just called me and said she is sending your sister—your fucking sister who is with the fucking Sinaloa cartel—to meet me with Cayla.”
“Ah, Camilla, that’s a long story—”
“Gabriel,” I growl his name, blood pulsing through my jugular, “I’m supposed to meet them in two hours. What the fuck where you thinking?”
“Well, you shot Boris. I told you, you have anger problems. I couldn’t trust you wouldn’t go nuclear and kill half my men trying to find Tor. I’m in enough shit as it is, ese. I didn’t need you making this any messier than it is with these fucking Russians,” he shouts the word so loud his voice cracks, “all over the place.”
“Get me the fuck outta here.”
“I’m coming to get you.” And he hangs up.
Shaking my head, I fall back onto the lumpy jail cot, the springs creaking under my weight as I rest my elbows on my knees. What did Tor promise? I could hear the fucking desperation in her voice and the fact that she’s so tormented makes me angry. I don’t care if she sells me out for Cayla. That’s fine, but the fact that Ronan didn’t let her know it’s a plan—the fact that he just let her believe this was her only option, it infuriates me. And Gabriel’s sister—he never told me Camilla had been taken by Jesús, which makes me suspicious as all fuck. “Shit,” I groan, burying my face in my hands because all I can do is wait, thinking over what may happen. Knowing damn well I may die without ever holding my little girl again. I take peace in the thought that Tor will make sure Cayla knows how much I loved her. That she will tell her she was my everything. After all, death is certain and all that really matters is the legacy we leave behind. Up until Tor my life was nothing but bloodstained chaos. She brought peace to an earthly form of hell. A sacrificial angel who taught me what love was. Who gave me a daughter, hope, a reason for my shitty existence. If I die, it will be knowing that I’ll leave one thing behind that’s not been tainted, and that’s Cayla.
40
Tor
I wrap my arms tightly around Cayla, pressing my cheek to her soft head. "I love you, baby girl."
"Wuv you," she says, playing with my necklace. The thing that breaks my heart is that she's too young to understand anything that's happening. She doesn't know that she'll never see me again. She doesn't know what I had to do to save her. The thought that she will lie awake at night crying for me and Jude ruins me. I don’t want her to think we abandoned her, that we didn’t love her, but what else will a two-year-old think? I fight back the sob, the utter destruction working its way through my very soul as I cling to my child for these last few moments. I wonder what she’d think of me if she were to ever find out what I’ve done? Would she hate me? Would she understand? But then again, until she is a mother herself, she will never be able to understand because a mother’s love is something unexplainable. I place my lips to her forehead and close my eyes, inhaling her scent one last time. I fight back the tears because I don't want to upset her, but it's so hard. This is the last time I'll see her.
Camilla steps closer, her eyes swimming with sadness as she looks at me. "I'm sorry, Tor," she says quietly.
"She'll be safe.” I shake my head. “That's all I want."
We once had a fairytale. We once lived in paradise with our perfect family but fairy tales don't last, and soon the monsters come crawling back in. Lizzy will give Cayla a normal life. She'll live in a suburban house and go to school and have friends. Jude and I never would have given her that, even without the cartel chasing us. I pass Cayla to Camilla and smile through my tears. Reaching behind my neck, I unclasp my necklace and place it around Cayla’s neck.
"Your daddy gave this to me," I whisper. "You keep it safe for me, okay?"
Cayla grasps the little silver hummingbird in her hand and nods. That necklace is more than just a trinket. It was Jude's mothers. He gave it to me right before he let me go. It was his way of telling me he loved me when he couldn't yet speak the words. That necklace was I love you and goodbye, just like it is now.
"I love you, Cayla. More than all the stars in the sky." I give her one last kiss on the cheek and force myself to step away, to let her go.
Camilla rests her hand on Cayla's back and gets in the car. The second the door closes, I fall apart. My heart shatters, crumbling to dust. I will never see her grow up, never see her get married, or have a child of her own and it kills me. But she will do those things now. She will do them, and just knowing that has to be enough for me.
Jude and I sacrificed everything to keep our baby safe. I just hope she doesn't one day hate us for it.
A few hours later and there's a knock on the bedroom door. Camilla steps inside, sweeping her curtain of hair back behind her ear. I sit bolt upright, swiping at my tear-stained face. "Did Lizzy get her okay?"
She nods. "Yes, your sister took Cayla."
A huge weight releases from my shoulders and I breathe a little easier. "Good. That’s...good."
She comes and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. "You did the right thing. What you're doing... it's brave."
I pull my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them. "I don't feel brave, Camilla." I feel broken.
"Cayla is lucky to have a mother as strong as you. You remind me of my mother." She gently runs her fingers through my hair. "She died when one of my father's enemies tried to kill Gabriel. She took a bullet for him."
"How do you do this?” I look at her for a moment. “Live in this world of violence?"
She shrugs, a small smile touching her lips. "It's all I know."
I nod. "Thank you for taking her. I didn't want her to be with Jesús’ men and be scared."
The door bursts open and Camilla leaps from the bed, moving to stand in front of me. I peer around her and see Jesús looming in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest.
"What's this, little gatita?” he says. “Feeling protective?" He crosses the room, stopping in front of Camilla and stroking his knuckles down her cheek. She jerks away from his touch. “Perra estupido,” he says, and she slaps him.
Much to my surprise, he laughs. I stare wide eyed as she saunters past him and out into the hallway, slamming the door as she goes.
He swipes at a spot of blood on his lip. "Colombian women. A little too feisty, eh?" He walks toward me and I shrink away from him. Smiling, he leans over and places a finger beneath my chin. I go rigid when he brings his face closer, dragging his nose up the side of my throat and inhaling. "I prefer my women to cower a little." He laughs again and straightens. "Come, chiquita, I have a bookie to kill. You wouldn't want to miss the show now, would you?"
He wants me to watch him kill Jude? I can't. He shoves a hand inside his pocket and pulls out a piece of cloth. “Turn around,” he says. I have no choice but to obey, so I do. He slips the soft piece of material over my mouth, tying it so tight around the back of my head my teeth cut into my lips and the bitter taste of blood fills my mouth. I mumble against the gag.
"Shhh, Victoria” He softly strokes a thumb over my chin. “Soon this will all be over." And then he turns around and heads toward the door. "Come."
How much more can I take? He wants me to lose Cayla and Jude in the same day? I guess he figures he might as well get all the breaking over with at once, but I have to wonder if there's a point where someone is just too broken, a point of no return. If so, then surely I'm on a collision course with it.
I follow him through the house and to the driveway where a line of black SUVs wait. The second in line has the back doors open wide. Jesús points to the car and I go to it, climbing into the back. Jesús slides in beside me, resting a rifle across his lap. Nausea washes over me and I swallow heavily. Cayla is safe and as long as that is the case, I can do anything. I reach for my necklace th
e same way I always do when I'm anxious, but it's gone. I close my eyes and picture Cayla: older, happy, and beautiful with that hummingbird around her neck. She may never truly know what that necklace means, but it brings me comfort knowing she has it.
Jesús skims his fingers down my cheek and my skin crawls. I turn my gaze out the window, watching the barren desert fly past. Everything looks the same. Sand and sky. Eventually the car slows as it trails off into the sand.
Jesús shoves me forward. “Just to make sure, chiquita,” he says as he grabs my hands and pulls them behind my back.
There’s the click of a zip tie being fastened before I feel plastic bite into my skin. Steeling myself, I look out the windscreen. A single Hummer sits about fifty yards in front of our convoy, and leaning against the front of it is Jude looking so dark and deadly. Ready to make the world bleed if he needs to. Gabriel stands beside him, a gun in each hand. My heart clenches painfully. He came. I really hoped he wouldn't. And now...now I'm going to have to watch him die, because not even Jude and Gabe are no match for all Jesus' guys.
41
Jude
I hear Gabriel talking to David and I grab my shirt from the end of the cot and jump up, walking straight to the bars and gripping them. David grins as he shoves the keys into the lock. The door groans as it swings open and I rush out, stepping right up to Gabriel and glaring at him. "I can't fucking believe you," I say, pointing at him before I slip my shirt over my head.
He shrugs. "Eh, I did what I had to do to make sure your crazy ass didn't get us all killed. I told you, ese, you got a bad temper." He laughs. "Shooting the fucking Russian." He shakes his head as he steps to the side, allowing me out of the cell. "They sent me a fucking Boris number two. I don't like him any better."
I glare at him as I wipe the sweat from my brow and follow him through the shitty little jail. I want to cuss him out. Hit him. But there is no point, this anger needs to be funneled toward Jesús. "We better be going to get my girls," I say as we walk outside into the bright-ass sun, the door slamming closed behind us.
"We are." Gabriel heads toward the Hummer parked to the side of the building. The back window is cracked and I see a stream of smoke floating out of it before Marney rolls the window the rest of the way down.
"What's that make?” Marney says. “An Alabama prison, a federal prison, and now you've served time in a Mexican jail," he chuckles as I round the car. I open the door to the back and slide in next to Marney.
"Not in the fucking mood, old man."
He laughs again and takes a drag from his cigarette. I glance to the front and notice a pale guy in the driver's seat. Gabriel opens the passenger side door and gets in.
"Who the fuck is this?" I point at the driver.
"Boris number two."
The man turns in his seat, veins popping in his forehead. "Alex," he says before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. Marney holds out a pack of smokes and his lighter. I take one and light it as I stare through the window, watching the desolate landscape pass by. My stomach kinks and knots. Never in my life have the stakes been so damn high. My entire life has revolved around taking bets, but now the wager is the death of those I can't live without.
***break***
The Hummer rattles down the desert highway before veering off into the sand and slowing to a crawl. Gabriel bangs his fist over the dashboard. "Why the fuck you driving so slow, Russian?"
Alex turns his cold, blue eyes toward Gabriel and smirks. "Trust me, this path is...tricky."
Gabriel groans and turns up the radio, classical music filling the inside of the Hummer. Marney glances over at me, his brow wrinkling as he blows smoke from his lips. "What in the ever-lovin'…"
"Flower Deut," Gabriel says, waving one hand through the air as though he were conducting an orchestra. A small smile spreads over his lips. "It gives me peace."
The car comes to a slow halt and we stare out over the desert, the mountains to our side. I glance at the clock. Ten minutes. My heart pounds in my chest. My shirt clings to my sweat slicked back and chest. Marney grumbles next to me as he loads his gun, gripping his cigarette between his thin lips. "Never in a million years did I think I'd be in the fucking Mexican desert with a Mexican and a Russian." He shakes his head. "Always thought I'd die in a bar fight. Hmph." He cackles to himself.
"Jesus, Marney..." I groan, gripping my gun in my hand.
Gabriel turns in the seat to look at me. "This—" he points to Alex, "this is what the almighty Lord of Narnia gives us? One fucking man?" He slouches down in the seat and grumbles. "Fucking bullshit."
"There are more," Alex says as he stares forward.
"Yeah, yeah, that's what he promises. I don't see them." Gabriel points through the windshield. "I want to see them with my fucking eyes. I don't like this sneaky-sneaky bullshit." Groaning, he turns the radio up and inhales a deep breath.
"Aw, shit," Marney says, leaning up in the seat. "Here we go."
I stare at the red cloud of dust billowing in the distance, my stomach knotting. They are still miles away, but we can see them coming. My pulse quickens. This is it. This is my last chance to save my family. We all sit in silence, taking in the peaceful sound of the music playing. They're close enough now that the blaring sun reflects off the paint of the vehicles.
Alex turns in his seat and glances at me. "Do not step more than twenty feet away from this car." He looks at Marney, then at Gabriel, and pulls his gun from the console, cocking it.
I push the door open, the unbearable desert heat wafting into the car. Gabriel meets me at the front of the car and Marney and Alex duck behind the open doors of the Hummer, guns aimed.
I watch the convoy of cars come closer. The first one rolls to a stop, followed by the second. The back door on the second opens and Jesús gets out toting a rifle over his shoulder. I aim my gun, my finger touching the trigger as he reaches back inside and drags someone out, bound and gagged. Tor. Smiling, he grabs her long blonde hair and yanks her in front of his body. I drop my gun to my side.
"Jude Pearson! Corredor de apuestas," he shouts. "I brought your woman to watch you die!" Tor's brow scrunches in pain and she thrashes in his hold.
I start toward them. “Jude, do not go more than twenty feet!” Alex says with a slight growl.
Another car drives over the desert—boom—a huge ball of fire explodes. Black smoke balloons up into the sky as pieces of metal and rubber go flying everywhere.
Jesús ducks down against the side of the car, using the open door and Tor's body to shield himself. Tor turns her face to the side to protect herself from the heat that visibly radiates from the explosion.
"Holy shit, ese," Gabriel says, dropping behind the open door.
One of Jesús’ guys jumps out of their car. There's a small pop in the distance and the guy falls to the ground, sand flying up around him as blood oozes from his head. Jesús shouts and the other men fire at us. Bullets ping off the cars, they skitter in the sand. I aim and fire at one of the men and he falls. Another explosion shakes the ground followed quickly by another, smoke puffing up from the ground. I watch as one man runs across the sand and then bam the ground explodes, the man's body blowing to bits as pieces of skin and bones rain down around us.
Alex picks up his phone and growls something in Russian into the receiver as he aims his gun at Jesús. "Don't fucking shoot at him!" I shout. "Don't fucking shoot at him!"
Tor is still hunched against the side of the car, tucked between Jesús’ legs to serve as a human shield. Suddenly, her body jerks and I freeze. The gunfire, the explosions, the noise all falls into the background as a red stain bleeds across the front of her white dress. Her head drops forward and she goes limp, Jesús catching her before she collapses completely to the sand.
"No!” I shout, panic wrapping around my throat. “Fuck, no!"
Jesús is shouting at his men as he stands and drags Tor up with him. I take several fast steps toward them and someone grabs me, yan
king me down. I fall to the ground, the hot gritty sand stinging my flesh. I struggle against the person's hold. Shouting and screaming.
"You will die, ese," Gabriel says. “There’s fucking land mines.”
I manage to shove him off me and stumble to my feet before I feel his arm come across my neck, squeezing. I grab at him, clawing my fingers over his skin as I jerk violently in his hold. "The fuck, Gabe!" I elbow him in the ribs. I buck like a fucking bronco trying to get him off.
"Stop it. You can't fucking save her."
But I can't sit here and give up. I keep trying to pry his hand loose, but all he does is squeeze harder until I can't fucking breathe. I fall to my knees, Gabriel's arm still around my throat like a vice. All I can do is watch as Jesús drags Tor into the car, blood trailing behind her.
My ears ring, my vision narrows and Jesús’' car turns around, speeding off over the rugged desert terrain. Gabriel releases me and I sit back on my legs, watching the cloud of dust as they disappear. My chest heaves. I attempt to catch my breath. Tor's dead. And for all I know Cayla's dead, too. It's over. It’s all over…
Epilogue
"Clear sir," Donovan says through the car window. Since the American shot Boris, Donavan has become my right-hand man. He pulls the door open and I step out, brushing my hand down the front of my suit. I don't like this country. It's dusty, dirty, and hot.
I pass the metal gates hanging from their hinges. Dead men litter the ground like garbage scattered on a sidewalk. I step over a body, careful not to get blood on my Versace shoes. My men fan out in military formation. Jesús’ men never even saw this coming. After all, you can't fight what you can't see and snipers are impossible to spot from half a mile away. When going to war, it is stealth that wins. And why waste men when I can win so easily?