Concealed Identity

by Jessica R. Patch

  If he could only make her understand, but there wasn’t time. The Drummonds were still on the loose. Hector had gone to butcher Alejandro and Joseph Gonzalez. Holt could have chased after him, but that would have left Blair vulnerable. Hector knew Holt would choose Blair.

  The main house was a bloodbath, but it was empty. He needed to get in there and hopefully find a landline so he could call in Beckett. Hector’s goons had laid a sneak attack on him while Hector distracted him. Knocked him out, giving Hector time to get here first. They’d taken his phone. His head still thrummed.

  “I’m so sorry. I had to do my job. I had to protect you... I wanted to protect you... I love you, Blair. It’s the truth.”

  “Don’t you dare say that!”

  It wasn’t fair. But it might be the only opportunity to ever speak those words, and he wanted her to know.

  Horses whinnied. “We have to get out of here. Now.” Hopefully, Blair would be thinking straight enough to know she needed to go with him. “I won’t hurt you. Let’s go.”

  “Too late for that,” she spat out, then pointed to the floor. “Riella used that door. I can only guess there’s some kind of secret passageway. Don’t know where it leads.”

  “Riella?” He lifted the trapdoor, and cool air and decay hit his face. “I thought Sophia was La Mujer,” Holt murmured. His mind went in a million different directions.

  “Sophia is dead.” Blair pinched the bridge of her nose. “Riella is in charge of this nightmare.”

  Holt cupped the back of his neck and grimaced. “We need to climb down there. It’s too risky going through the stable when we don’t know where they are. My truck is at the main house. Let’s get you to it and get you out of here.” Once she was gone, he’d finish what he started. Hunt down the cartel members left standing and bring them to justice.

  Blair hesitated, then wiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hand and climbed down into the underground tunnel that might have been used during the Prohibition to bootleg liquor. The dank, musty smell turned up Holt’s nose.

  “I think it leads to the main house,” Holt said. Too dark to see much and he hadn’t brought his penlight. Blair’s footsteps shuffled behind him, but she remained silent. “Blair—”

  “How could you have used my brother like that? Why did you do it?”

  Holt’s chest ached so much he couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t want him to get hurt, Blair. I cared about Jeremy. Saw potential in him that day I busted him during an undercover assignment and got him into rehab instead of arresting him.”

  The tunnel took a hard left.

  “But then you put him out there as if he had training. Isn’t that your job? To investigate, to go undercover, to lie?”

  Her shaky voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned to face her in the dark. “I asked him to keep his ears open, not to sleuth. But he...he—”

  “Felt obligated to you. Loyal. Like he owed you. And you used that.”

  Had he? “No. I never wanted him to get hurt.”

  She brushed past him. “All this time, I’ve been blaming myself and you let me. Let me worry. Was the private investigator even real? The information you supposedly got from him... Did it really come from you?”

  “Yes,” he murmured. “I wanted you to have some peace. To know we were on the case, Blair. That we were looking. You were afraid to go to the cops. I had to do something. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “How about tell the truth?” she hollered, her voice echoing. He didn’t dare reprimand her.

  “I wanted to,” he whispered. “Especially when I knew I was falling in love with you. I even called my handler for permission after you were attacked in the woods.” Sunlight cracked ahead. “But I had no choice. I had to follow orders. It’s the job.”

  “So you did make a choice. You chose your job. Not me.”

  No, but he knew if he told her and she rejected him—hated him—he’d lose both. And he’d been right all along. Or had he? “Did you want me to choose you, Blair?”

  He invaded her personal space to see her face.

  “Doesn’t matter now.” A tremor threaded her weak voice.

  She did love him. Or had. It had been in her kiss. Her eyes. The way she had surprised him with the sign on his window. The way she’d worried for him.

  An ember of hope rose.

  “I love you, Blair.”

  “Stop saying that! I don’t believe you.”

  He grabbed her shoulder with his gun-free hand. “What do I gain by telling you that now? You do believe it. And I think you love me and it makes you mad. Because you’re hurt. So am I. But it doesn’t change the fact. I’m sorry for the lies. The secrets. For Jeremy. I am. But I’m not sorry for falling in love with you.”

  Blair held her hand up. “I can’t. I can’t deal with this right now.”

  Fine. This wasn’t the time or the place, but they had to talk about it eventually.

  “There’s a door here. Stand back.” Holt opened it. It led into the kitchen of the main house. Sophia lay dead on the floor. He listened. “I think it’s clear.” Holt cleared the kitchen. “Blair, come out. You need to get out of here.”

  She wouldn’t come. Now was not the time to be stubborn. He’d messed up. Big-time. And she was dealing with the fact that her brother was dead. But she needed to keep moving. Holt would get her to safety and finish what he’d started. Now that he had a face to the head of the snake, he could crush it under his boot.

  “Blair. Please, honey. We need to get you far away from this place.”

  Blair stepped out of the tunnel.

  Riella Drummond behind her, gun to her head. “Too late.”

  FOURTEEN

  Blair hadn’t heard Riella come up behind her. The woman must have heard her yell at Holt and hid, waiting. The barrel of the gun bit into her cheek, but she held back a cry as she stumbled forward.

  “Back up,” Riella commanded.

  Holt inched out of the kitchen and into the dining area of the house.

  “I’m going to need you to put that gun down,” Riella said as she kept Blair in front of her.

  “Not a chance,” Holt hissed.

  “He’s heroic,” Riella said to Blair, her sweet perfume choking her. “I’ll give him that.”

  Blair bit down on her lip and stared at the wall, her muscles watery and trembling. She couldn’t look Holt in the eye.

  She’d been nothing but a mark. A job. What could he gain by telling her he loved her?

  Nothing.

  But it didn’t matter. Holt had a career that brought too much danger from the drug world into his life. Even if Jeremy hadn’t been killed, Blair couldn’t be a part of that world. Once again, her judgment had been clouded. And everything was falling apart.

  “Riella,” a man hollered.

  “In the dining area.”

  Blair recognized one of the stable men. “Got the ducks. They were empty.”

  Riella growled and yanked Blair’s hair until she nearly fell to her knees. She pointed the gun at Holt. “You tell me right now where they are or I kill him.”

  No! No more death. It had to stop. Her pulse spiked and her head swam.

  “You get one shot. You that good? Because I am.” Holt’s cool tone shook Blair to the core.

  A whizz like a bee sounded and the man next to Riella dropped to the floor, knocking over a dining chair.

  “Hello, my sweet Blair.” Hector entered from the north side with Doc Drummond in a headlock. The gun he’d used on Riella’s stable hand was now jabbed against Doc’s temple. “Gabriella Menendez. You are a vision. I can’t believe you left me for this.”

  “What did you do to him, Hector?” Riella demanded. “Where’s Alejandro and Joseph?”

  Hector’s smil
e said it all. They were dead. Doc Drummond’s cheek was slicked with blood, a gaping gash down the middle of it. “I owed you one. Tit for tat. I like the red in your hair. Makes you look fiery and younger than forty. Did you throw a big party and not even invite me?”

  Holt kept his gun on Riella, darting his eyes from Hector to Riella. Riella’s gun was now gouging into the back of Blair’s head.

  A real Mexican standoff. Blair almost laughed out of delirium. “Hector, how did you find me?”

  “Your darling and very beautiful sister called.” He cocked his head, his voice husky and melodic. “Let her go. And I’ll let the man you left me for live. Simple. Easy.”

  “Nothing is simple or easy with you.” Riella gripped the gun. Blair bit back a moan.

  “You’re right, lover. It’s not.” He pulled the trigger.

  Blair jolted and gasped.

  Holt’s nostrils flared.

  Doc Drummond dropped to the floor, a small trickle of blood dribbling from the bullet hole in his forehead. Blair whimpered and shook. No one was going to get out of this alive.

  Riella cursed in Spanish but kept her gun on Blair. Hector stood with a calm grin on his face, his gun aimed right on her. As if he’d done no more than swatted a fly.

  Bad man, good man. It was still a life he’d taken.

  God, help us.

  Riella looked from Holt to Hector. “Why do you care if she lives or not?”

  “She’s familia. You know nothing of that kind of loyalty.”

  “You killed my husband. You think I’m going to let her walk out of here?” she screeched.

  “The minute you put a bullet in her, I put one in you,” Holt growled. “I promise you that.”

  “Ha!” Riella glared at Holt, but her eyes showed unease. She’d better believe him. Blair did. His eyes smoldered with deadly fury, but his body language was calm and cool. He didn’t so much as flinch, but this was his life. Dangerous. Full of lies and games. Blair could never be a part of it. Never.

  “You know I’m not lying,” Holt said.

  Riella glanced at Hector. “We can split the product. She has it hidden somewhere. We’ll even give you a cut of the profit, hero-boy.”

  Hector’s laugh was smooth and low, as if he’d heard a fabulous joke. “You don’t know who he is, do you? Oh, this is rich.”

  “Who is he?” Riella stared intently at Holt. As if trying to recall if she should know him.

  Hector snorted. “He’s a Drug Enforcement agent. And not one for the taking.”

  Hearing it again sent tears into Blair’s eyes. She was such an idiot. She should have picked up on it. The way he used a gun, searched her home, hot-wired ATVs! But she’d once again let her heart veil the truth.

  “DEA,” Riella huffed. Blair’s back was about to break. She needed some relief. Could she ram Riella and hope for the best? No, it’d get her killed. If she could get her to aim her gun elsewhere, Holt could take a shot.

  “Hector, we can kill him. Kill them both. Share the product.” Riella’s offer might tempt Hector. But Blair was banking on family loyalty prevailing. “She has it, you know? It was in the truck with her.”

  Hector’s eyebrows rose and long lashes fluttered over eyes too gorgeous for a man to have, especially one so evil.

  Riella tightened her grip on Blair’s head, nails digging into her scalp.

  Surely Hector wasn’t considering it!

  Holt kept his gun steady on Riella, as if assessing the situation or planning a sneak attack. But if he so much as moved, Blair would be dead.

  Hector inhaled. “Blair, where’s the cocaine?”

  Lips trembling, she shook her head.

  Hector made eye contact with Riella. They communicated silently, as only two people who knew each other well could.

  “Blair, tell me where you’ve hidden it. This can all be over. I promised you freedom. I am a man of my word.”

  “I don’t want to die, Hector,” Blair cried.

  “Tell me where it is...and you’ll live.”

  Riella wouldn’t let her live. And Blair wasn’t so sure Hector would, either. She could trust no one.

  Holt lurched forward and Hector trained his gun on him. “I wouldn’t. I said I wouldn’t kill Blair. I never said I wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you.” Blair was furious with Holt, but she would not watch him die.

  Riella slammed the gun into Blair’s cheekbone. “The truth this time.” Turning to Hector she said, “Tell him to drop his gun. Show of good faith.”

  If Holt gave his gun up, either cartel leader could kill him. Then kill Blair. This couldn’t be how it was going to end.

  Hector huffed. “Holt, put the gun on the floor and kick it to me.”

  Holt kept his eyes trained on Hector as he slowly squatted to put his gun on the floor. Then he caught Blair’s eye and mouthed, “I love you.”

  She closed her eyes as her lips quivered.

  The gun clattered against the hardwood as Holt kicked it across the room. “Blair, no matter what happens to me, you can’t give up the location of the drugs—”

  “Shut up!” Riella hollered.

  “Kids will die.”

  “She’ll die if she doesn’t tell us.” Riella pointed the gun at Holt. “But you’ll go first.”

  A gun fired.

  Blair toppled to the floor as Riella crashed down on her. Hector brushed invisible lint from his shoulder. “It’s all about trust, Blair. I give my word. I keep my word. You are familia. I needed the right moment to make my move.” He picked Holt’s gun up and pocketed it but trained his own gun on Holt. “In case you get any funny ideas.”

  Keeping an eye on Holt, he opened his hand for Blair to take. “Let’s get you home safely.”

  Blair didn’t know what to do. Would Hector kill Holt? She owed Hector now. “So you don’t want the drugs?”

  “No, I want the product. I have no plans to share them with Riella, but she had every intention of taking you and this agent out.”

  “Hector, please don’t make me tell you.” Blair wiped her eyes. “Please.”

  “Where?”

  Blair dipped her head. “I—They’re...”

  Hector crossed the room and put his gun to Holt’s head. Still Holt’s face remained resolute. “Do you wish for more death today, Blair?”

  “Don’t tell him, Blair. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “You’ll die,” she sobbed.

  “And if you let that cocaine onto the street, many will die. You won’t be able to live with yourself.” His eyes pleaded with her. “I took this job for this very reason. Because I didn’t care if I lived or died. Not after Trina. I knew the risks.”

  “How touching. Blair,” Hector said. “Where?”

  Even if he killed Holt, he’d end up killing Blair if she refused to give him the location. There was no way out of this. Blair darted her eyes from Hector to Holt. “And now? Do you want to live?”

  Holt’s intense blue eyes filled with moisture. “I want more for you to live. Guilt free.”

  Blair closed her eyes, then opened them and looked at Hector. “If I tell you, we both live?”

  “You have my word,” Hector said.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “He dies.”

  “And what if I still won’t tell you? You said you wouldn’t kill me.”

  Hector sneered and she glimpsed the darkness inside him. “I said I wouldn’t kill you. I never said I’d give you freedom.”

  He’d take her away. Lock her up somewhere. He’d wanted her in Dallas with him anyway. Maybe he’d let her go because he knew Riella had been here all along. Blair was an indirect line to her. But now that she was dead...

  “And I n
ever said anything about Gigi.”

  Blair’s blood hammered in her temples. No. Not Gigi.

  She had to make a choice. One life. Or many lives.

  God, I don’t know what to do. Help me!

  Everyone had risked something for her. Gigi had risked calling Hector. Holt had risked his life countless times. Didn’t matter how hurt she was, she couldn’t ignore the truth. Jeremy had sacrificed his own life to help others. To keep drugs off the streets because he knew how they sucked the life out of people.

  Grandma Viola had made the sacrifice to leave her home, a place full of memories with Grandpa Henry, to come and raise her grandchildren after Mom had died. Even Hector, with his warped sense of loyalty and family, had taken a risk to come and rescue her. He could easily have been murdered by one of the Juarez Cartel members.

  Too much bloodshed today. Too much anguish. Needless killing.

  For what? Greed. Gain. Utter depravity. Selfish agendas.

  “I’ve made my choice.”

  * * *

  Holt braced himself. All his adult life he’d taken risks, some necessary and some careless. He’d stopped living. Talk about the walking dead. He’d been it. Until he came to Hope. To a town that had welcomed him with open arms. He never dreamed it would crack the hard layers covering his deceased heart. Never imagined that the one thing he wanted most would run off the road into a ditch and reveal that hope could still be found.

  Living in the midst of a drug cartel, Blair had endured years of corruption and fear and she’d made it out. Not without some scars and a heavy dose of paranoia. But she’d fought for a better life, for a dream, and she protected the people she loved in a way that made him crave it, too. Not the feeling of being protected, but being loved by Blair.

  Here he was. The moment of truth. He was ready to go.

  God, I’ve wasted a lot of years. I’ve been angry and cold for so long. And yet You still have worked on my behalf to bring me healing, even when I didn’t realize I needed it. I want to live, but I want Blair to live more. So give her the strength and the courage to do what’s right. To do what’s best. Help her make a wise decision. I’m okay with coming home if You’re ready for me.