I glance at Jésus and swallow heavily. The look on his face says it all. This isn't optional and it's as much a test as the last few weeks have been. I silently take the seat next to the guy. I'm not about to fail now.
13
Jude
A cool breeze howls over the top of the hill. The near full moon disappears behind thick clouds, making the lights from Jésus’ house in the distance seem all the brighter. I shift on the hood of the car as I adjust the focus on the pair of binoculars glued to my eyes. I search each window for a glimpse of her. I just need to know she’s okay, then I’ll leave.
The door to the patio opens, the movement catching my attention. Tor steps outside. The white dress catching on the wind and almost making her look like an angel. But she’s too tainted to be an angel, and I know that. She rests against the stone balcony and stares off, her gaze eventually straying to the very fucking hill I’m on. For a moment, I pretend like she’s looking for me. A small line sinks between her brows and she looks...lost.
“Why did you leave me, Tor, huh?” I whisper. “Why?”
Just as I'm about to pull the binoculars from my eyes, the patio door opens again. Tor turns when Jésus walks outside, and I tense. Smiling, he reaches for her, pulling her close to his chest before wrapping his arms around her waist. My pulse kicks up, angry blood hammering through my veins as I watch his hand slowly trail down the small of her back to her ass. He says something to her and she smiles. She fucking smiles just before he kisses her. She lets him kiss her.
I drop the binoculars and slide off the hood, pacing as I drag my hands through my hair. My heart slams around in my chest so hard I can't catch a good breath. The word betrayal doesn't touch this. She said she wanted vengeance—I glance back toward that fucking house on the hill. That is not vengeance.
She is giving that fuckface my smiles, my kisses, my damn life. I pound my fist over the hood again and again until it's dented to all fuck and back. My knuckles sting from the splits. Blood coats my hand and trickles to the ground as I go back to pacing.
I've lost her in the worst sense possible. Within death, you can make no changes. Fate did not decide this. Tor did. She decided love wasn't enough, or maybe there's only so much shit one woman can take before love morphs into hate.
"Fuck you," I shout, my voice fading into the rolling hills overlooking the desert. I let my shoulders fall as I go to the driver's side of the car and yank the door open. I slam it closed so hard the car rocks, and then I crank the engine and peel off, leaving her to the life she's chosen.
She's not the woman I once loved.
She's no longer my Tor.
14
Tor
The driver speeds along the rough desert road. He takes a hard turn, the abrupt movement sending up clouds of dust around the Hummer. Three of Jésus’ armed guards sit in the car with me, and anxiety bubbles in my stomach because I know exactly why Jésus is sending me to deal with the Juarez cartel. He wants me to deal with Gabriel. Jésus wants Gabe to witness my loyalty to the Sinaloa cartel, and honestly, he probably wants to insult him by sending someone he won't take seriously.
The car pulls up outside a ramshackle gas station in the middle of the desert. The tint on the windows is peeling; the pumps have weeds growing out of them. When the car comes to an abrupt stop, all the guys get out. One of them holds the door open for me, and I step out of the car, my high heels clicking over the dusty tarmac. There’s an old man wearing a straw hat in the rocking chair on the porch of the shack. He has a pipe hanging from his mouth, but no smoke is coming from it. He tips his hat to us before pulling it down over his eyes as though he's taking a nap. I slide my sunglasses onto my face and glance across the expanse of desert. In the distance, there’s a trail of dust billowing into the sky. When the approaching car gets closer the sun glints off the black paint.
I steel myself and hold out my palm, waiting as Michael hands me a gun. I feel the weight of the cool metal when he places it in my hand, and I grip it. The car finally pulls up, skidding slightly on the loose gravel a few feet away from us. The windows are tinted, so I can’t see inside. The engine cuts, and I wait on baited breath to see who will get out. There's every possibility that Gabriel will show up himself and bring Jude. Some cartel bosses let their men make deals for them, but Gabriel tends to get his hands dirty. Having spent time in the Sinaloa cartel, it's something I've come to respect about him.
The car doors open and several men I vaguely recognise from Gabriel's compound get out before Gabe climbs out himself. He closes the door, and I find myself breathing a sigh of relief when I don't see Jude.
Gabe saunters towards us with that usual arrogant swagger he carries. Jésus is always dressed in a suit, but Gabe’s dressed in his usual low-hung Jeans and a plain black t-shirt that clings to his muscular body. He always looks more like an Abercrombie model than a drug lord. There’s a shotgun slung over his shoulder, a smoldering cigarette in his hand. His eyes drag over me, and a sneer pulls at his lips.
"Gabriel," I greet him coolly. All eyes are on me. I must not only prove my loyalty, but be the queen that Jésus wants me to be. This is the ultimate test, facing one of Jude's allies—one of my friends—and demeaning him. Jésus wants to make Gabe eat dirt, and by sending me to do it he's just rubbing salt in the wound.
"What are you doing here, Tor?" He glances at the men surrounding me before his gaze falls to the gun in my hand. He takes a drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke through his lips, completely unfazed as his eyes lock with mine.
"I'm here to negotiate with you on behalf on the Sinaloa cartel." I hold his stare, never flinching, never backing down. I've watched Jude enough to know that perception is everything. The way you hold yourself, the way you speak... it all creates an image. I need Gabriel to believe whole-heartedly that I've turned because word travels. Jésus hears things, and it all helps my cause. The more he trusts me, the easier he is to kill, but more importantly, the easier it is to convince the rest of the cartel that it wasn't me who did it.
His eyes narrow and he takes one last puff on his smoke before tossing it to the desert floor. "I don't negotiate with women or traitors." He arches a brow.
I inhale a slow breath and click the safety off my gun. His gaze flicks to the gun in my hand. "I don't negotiate with Juarez dogs, but here we are." The guys behind me chuckle.
"Wow, and to think I used to come over to your house for dinner."
I raise an eyebrow. "Times change. We came to talk, so talk. It's the only chance you're going to get. I'll be sure to relay your concerns to Jésus." I turn towards Michael on my right and hand him my gun. I hear a low curse from Gabriel, and I can guess why. On the left side of my neck, below my ear, is my tattoo. Jésus insisted that my hair be braided back on one side so it was clearly on show. He said it would offer me protection. That's bullshit, he wanted me stamped and claimed for Gabriel, and therefore Jude, to see. I turn back to Gabriel and he passes his shotgun to one of his men. I step forward and so does he until we're barely a foot apart. It's bullshit really, a sign of diplomacy I guess, to be unarmed. But there are six other armed men here. I really don't need a gun.
"I didn't call this meeting, your man did," he sneers.
I sigh. "You need to stop with the hits, Gabe. It's not good for business, for either of us." He's been killing Jésus' men, bombing drug factories, ambushing our drops. Of course, secretly, I want to shake his hand, but all he's doing at this stage is pissing Jésus off, and that's never good.
"Business, yes...” he laughs. “I see you are now very concerned with that." His eyes trail over me.
"It concerns the boss, and therefore it concerns me."
"There is nothing lower than a woman who turns on her man." Gabe glares at me.
I clench my fists until my nails bite into my palms. I shouldn't rise to it, but I do. "A man's job is to protect his family and when he can no longer do that, a woman will find the man who can." I hate it. I hate myself for sayi
ng it because I love Jude no matter what has passed between us. He has to buy this though. More importantly, the men standing behind me need to buy this.
"The man who can." He laughs again. "That Sinaloa shit took my sister, he killed your child, and yet you spread your legs for him,” he says through clenched teeth before taking a deep breath. "You're a whore. Jude deserves better than this bullshit." He turns and waves me off. "Tell Jésus I will not have dealings with you." He spits before he walks away from me.
Michael hands me my gun. "You will do business with whoever we see fit to offer you," I say. "Careful what you wish for Gabriel. Next time Jésus might just come in person, and you might leave missing body parts."
He flips me the bird. "Tell Jésus I look forward to the day I take a piss on his dead body."
I take a deep breath, lift the gun, and pull the trigger. Gabe hits the ground swearing, and suddenly there are guns pointed at me. The men standing behind me aim their guns, the click of the safeties going off surrounding me. Smirking, I stare down Gabriel's three men. I wink at the one that I know is his right hand of sorts. "Don't worry,” I say. “It's just a flesh wound." Gabriel groans, clutching his thigh. "Stop being a pussy, Gabe.” I smile. “That's for my fence post."
He glares at me as he manages to push to his feet. Blood soaks through the material of his jeans. "Tell your boss, that I'm going to keep coming at him until he's on his knees, and then I'm going to make him suck my fucking dick,” he says, and I roll my eyes at him. "You don't know what you're getting into, Tor."
I meet his stare. "I'll get into whatever I have to." I lift an eyebrow, hoping he hears the words I can't say here. I turn away from him and get back in the car. Closing my eyes, I press my head back against the seat rest as we pull away.
I honestly have no idea what I'm doing anymore. I just shot one of Jude's closest friends, and for what? To prove a point, to show loyalty to the man who has my daughter hostage. In the fucked-up world I live in, this is my reality.
15
Jude
The door slams shut and Gabe comes in cursing. He limps into the kitchen and grabs the bottle of brandy from the counter, yanking out the cork. I glance down at his leg. There’s a bandana tied around his thigh, his pants soaked with blood.
"Got shot, I see."
He glares at me as he tips the bottle back. "By your woman."
"What?" There's a pause. "What?"
"She's working for Jésus," he says before taking another swig.
I drop my head. A slow rage simmers in my veins as the mention of her and him brings the memory of their kiss to mind. Gabe leans down into my line of vision. "Did you hear me?" he asks. I push up from the chair and pace in front of the counter.
"She's turned, ese. She shot me." He motions frantically at his leg. "Look. Shot me! And she has the mark of the Sinaloa tattooed behind her ear. She's gone. Turned." He limps across the kitchen to the sink. "Fucking whore."
I don’t even realize what I'm doing. I just react, darting across the kitchen and grabbing him by the throat before I pin him against the cabinets. My heart races, my skin prickles with sweat as a war wages inside me, confusion drowning my senses. "Don't talk about her like that," I say through clenched teeth, and I'm not even sure why that should bother me anymore. She's not mine, and that's clear.
Gabe pulls at my hands and I let him go, taking an unsteady step back. "Your loyalties should be rearranged because Tor sold you out. She left you for a dirty bastard."
I stare at him, my mind reeling. Tor is working with the man who took our daughter, the man who wanted me dead. I no longer know who she is.
"She offers peace with one hand and shoots me with the other. Fucking Sinaloa." Mumbling, he paces beside the counter. "I've played nice, ese. I really have, but this..." He shakes his fists. "They want to try and fuck me in the ass, I'll fuck them in the ass." He snatches a phone from the counter and dials a number before pressing it to his ear.
She works for him. I try to process that. I try to make sense of it because deep down, no matter how much she may hate me or blame me, no matter what she's endured, at the end of the day Cayla was her world. She would never forgive someone for taking her much less work with them. What the fuck is going on? "Something's not right, Gabe."
He shakes his head. "Yeah," he speaks into the phone. "Gustavo? There's a new Sinaloa in the mix." My stomach knots. "A fucking gringo. A woman. Blonde..." Pausing, he glances at me. "Yes, that one. Watch her carefully. Do not trust her." He hangs up and stares at me. "I am sorry, ese, I am, but she is now the enemy, you understand that?"
My jaw clenches as I force a nod.
"Now, I have to go fuck them in the ass, if you'll excuse me."
"I'm going with you," I say as I follow him into the hall.
He turns and gives me an unwary look. "You don't want to do this, Jude."
"I do. I need to, Gabe."
His gaze drifts to the floor on a heavy sigh. "Fine." He nods before he disappears down the hall. “Come on,” he calls over his shoulder.
I remind myself that she was the enemy when I first met her, surely things have not come full circle?
***break***
Gabe and I are parked in an abandoned lot half a block down from one of the cartel bars.
"This is where they exchange their money," Gabe says. "We'll go in there and take their shit, stab his men, piss all over them before we cut their faces off and sew them onto a soccer ball and kick it down the street, and then..." He stares through the binoculars. "Oh shit." He leans closer to the dash. "It's Tor."
"What?" I hold the wheel with one hand and snatch the binoculars with the other, placing them against my eyes. It is fucking Tor. I toss the binoculars down and my grip on the steering wheel tightens. "What the hell is she doing?"
"Something for Jésus."
"No shit, Gabe."
"Look, don't get all angry with me because your woman went rogue."
"Just...shut up."
He shrugs and settles back in the seat, mumbling under his breath. Tor pulls up in front of El Pedro's, some shitty little bar that serves as a front to launder money no doubt. There's one window in the white cinder block building and a single door. The door to the Hummer swings open and Tor steps out. The tight white dress she's wearing hugs every last curve. Her blonder hair is swept to one side and pinned and that damn tattoo is visible even from here. My chest tightens and anger beats away at me. Betrayal has never felt so hollow, so damn painful.
"See, ese. See!" Gabe shouts, pointing at her as she makes her way to the door. "She's tattooed."
"I see, Gabe." I grab my gun and open the door.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Going to talk to her."
"To talk to her?" He climbs out of the car and groans. "You're an idiot." He thumbs back at Tor's car. "See those shadows in that car, those are Jésus' men. She's Jésus' woman now..."
I don’t say a word, just walk right to the door and yank it open. There's a thick cloud of smoke inside and only a few people scattered about. The waitress behind the bar eyes me when I walk in and whispers something to Tor. Tor glances over her shoulder, doing a double take before she grabs a paper bag off the bar and walks right over to me.
"What are you doing here?" she hisses, glancing around nervously.
"I could ask you the same thing." I nod toward her neck. "Nice fucking ink, Tor."
She grips my forearm, drags me to a door at the back of the room, and pulls me through, shutting it behind her. We're in a cramped hallway, the door at the end open to what looks like a dirty office. Closing her eyes, she leans her head back against the wall and chews on her bottom lip. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Her eyes flash open. "You cannot be here, Jude. You're going to screw everything up."
I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it! I smirk and shake my head. "You shot Gabe."
She huffs out a breath. "He forced my hand. I have to look unfailingly loyal. A slight to Jésus is a slight to me. He said he want
ed to piss on his dead body. What was I supposed to do?"
I stare at her. I can't believe she's gone to these lengths when there is no reward...and what lengths exactly has she gone to? My eyes lock on that tattoo wondering how much of herself has she given to him? "This won't change a thing," I say. Anger slowly swells within me as I think about Jésus touching her, kissing her, trying to fucking claim her. "It won't do a goddamn thing," I shout, punching the wall behind her. She flinches. My knuckles split and I find the slightest form of relief in the pain.
She takes a tentative step toward me and places her palm on my chest. "Please just trust me. I'm in too deep now, Jude. Even if I wanted to walk away, Jésus is...he would hunt me. I have to finish this."
"In too deep?" I laugh as I lean in close to her. I inhale her scent, and it's no longer her, it's different. It's unfamiliar and tainted. Tainted by another man. "You fucking think?" I grate. Closing my eyes, I take a breath. "Tell me, Tor. How fucking deep in you has he been?"
She sighs and grabs my jaw. "Look at me." I glance down at her, my pulse thrumming in my neck. She's no longer mine and I've never known a time when she wasn't. I don't know what's going on in her head, her fucking mind, but all I know is she's lost. "I haven't fucked Jésus," she whispers, her eyes watering.
"So, you do his deals for him. Shoot fucking Gabe for him and yet, you haven't spread your legs for him. Come the fuck on, Tor." I groan. "Don't disrespect me with lies." I inch my face toward hers, brushing my mouth over her warm lips. It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to kiss her. I graze my fingers over her arm, her skin so soft under my touch, and then, I grab the bag from her. "Tell Jésus I send my fucking regards, would you, doll?" I turn away, but she grabs my arm.
"Give me the money, Jude."
I arch a single brow at her and smirk. "Nah. Can't do that."
War (Wrong Book 4) Page 7