She would do anything to protect Cayla, and I will do everything in my power to protect them both. I reach across the console and grab her hand, stroking my thumb over her small knuckles. "We'll get her back. I promise," I whisper.
She drags her free hand through her hair and leans her head back against the seat. "What if she never knows, Jude?" she asks, her voice breaking. "What if she never knows that we loved her?" She turns to face me and I have to look away.
"She will." I grip the steering wheel and try to just breathe.
“Okay,” she whispers. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and she’s staring out the window. I want to say something to her, reassure her, but I know it's useless. All she has been fighting for, to this point, she feels has been in vain. We are leaving our baby girl in Russia—in another fucking country. No words I can utter will provide an ounce of comfort, so I just drive to the airport where a plane is waiting to take us back to Mexico.
Fourteen hours later, we touch down in Juarez. I don't even have both feet on the tarmac before Gabe's storming across the runway shouting. "He has my fucking sister, that pale bastard." He spits. "He has Camilla."
"I can't do this," Tor whispers as she passes by me and heads to Gabe's Hummer.
"I know, Gabe," I say. "I know."
"Bastardo, and now, now..." He lifts his fist and shakes it. "He says he'll kill her if I don't take over Juarez and let him shove his hand up my ass and be his little puppet." He stops in front of me, his eyes wild with rage. "Jésus, I didn't worry about, but Ronan..." He closes his eyes for a brief second. When he opens them I see fear, which sends a shiver down my spine. Gabe grew up in violence and bloodshed. He grew up in a world most people would fear, but this—Ronan Cole is what scares him. "What the hell have we gotten into, ese?"
I shake my head because I don’t really know. "A pile of fucking shit," I say and head toward his car.
22
Tor
My back presses against the rough brick of Gabe's house as I sit on the railing of the stone balcony, one leg dangling over the edge. A bottle of tequila rests against my thigh, and I tap my nails over the glass. It's gone midnight and I haven't seen Jude since we got back. He disappeared as soon as we got in, talking things through with Gabe, I guess, or maybe he just needs some space.
The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silver light over everything. I imagine that same light shining through a window somewhere in Russia, looking down on my little girl. I wanted to see her, of course I did, but I hate that it upset her. Her anguished scream has been branded into my mind. An eternal heartbreak. I lift the bottle and take a long swallow, relishing in the burn that brings with it a numbing sensation. It both soothes me and makes me feel guilty. Surely I deserve to feel every bit of this pain? I picture Cayla clutched in Camilla's arms, crying herself to sleep. It should be my arms that hold her, my fingers wiping her tears. And she wouldn't have tears if I weren't half a world away from her. I tip the bottle back again, craving the numbness far more than the pain.
I catch movement in my peripheral vision followed by the cherry-red glow from a cigarette. Smoke wafts past me as I brace my head against the wall, inhaling the smell that I will always associate with Jude.
When he steps out onto the balcony, he eyes the tequila in my hand. "What are you doing?"
I hold up the bottle. "Thinking."
He moves closer and takes the bottle from me, taking a long drag from his cigarette. When he lowers his hand, I pinch the smoke between my thumb and forefinger and pluck it from his grasp. He huffs a laugh as I inhale a lungful of smoke. It's somewhat cleansing, stress relieving. He turns the bottle up and takes a swig.
"You did what was right."
I snort, taking the bottle back from him and offering him his cigarette. "I've given up on what's right or wrong. It all just turns to shit no matter what we do." I tip the bottle back, wincing against the burning liquid as it cascades down my throat. "It's never enough to save her."
"But you haven't given up on her, and that's all that matters."
I think of Cayla, her joyful smiles and chubby cheeks, the way she clutches my hair in her hand when I hold her. My eyes prickle with tears even though soft smile pulls at my lips. "Never."
He wraps his hand around the nape of my and pulls me away from the wall, turning me to face him. His large body presses between my legs as he tugs me close. I can feel the tension, the loss clinging to him every bit as tightly as it clings to me. We're tied together, bound in grief and driven by the simple need to sacrifice everything for the one thing we love more than each other.
I tip my head back, meeting his eyes glinting like two pieces of jet in the moonlight. He strokes my hair away from my face and stares at me for a moment. This is it, this is the final stretch, the race to the wire. It seems fate has done everything to destroy us, and yet, here we are. There are some things that never should have been and yet...they just are. Jude and I are one of those things. Fate doesn't have a clue what to do with us. I press my face into his chest, allowing the warmth of his body to seep into mine. His arms wrap around me and, for a moment, I feel untouchable. Invincible. He makes me feel as if maybe, just maybe we could actually win this and walk away. A pipe dream, but a beautiful one nonetheless.
"It feels like we were always destined for tragedy, Jude," I whisper.
"Maybe..."
I focus on his chest, on the hills and valleys of his muscles beneath his cotton shirt. "I love her more than anything, but sometimes...sometimes I wonder whether she deserves so much better than us. If we do this, and we die, perhaps it's really a kindness. I just have to make sure she's taken care of when we're gone." I swallow around the lump in my throat. "Lizzy will give her a normal life."
"What the fuck is a normal life anyway?"
I glance up at him. I can barely remember a time before Jude. He's branded me, imprinted himself irreversibly on my soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But there was a time before him. Before this life. "I had normal once," I whisper. I had normal and I gave it up for him, for love.
"Were you happy?" he asks.
His dark green eyes burn into me. I reach up, sweeping my index finger over his bottom lip. "A captive animal may think it's happy having never known what it is to be free."
He stares at me for a moment, smirking. "Can you just answer the damn question?"
I smile, biting my bottom lip. "I thought I was."
"Have you been happy in the life I've given you?"
I stroke his jaw, brushing my lips over his. "It's not about the life you gave me, Jude. It's just you. You make everything before seem... inconsequential."
"So, love then, huh? Love makes it worth it?"
I close my eyes and touch my forehead to his, breathing him in. "Always."
"Well, doll, if that's what makes it worth it, I'd say Cayla's pretty lucky, wouldn't you?"
I sniff back tears and nod. The thing is, Cayla won't remember us. We'll be nothing more than the parents she never knew. But she will be that animal, in it's nice, safe cage, never knowing the dangers of the wilderness, never knowing this life. I want that for her. I need that for her, even if it's not the path I chose for myself.
Jude presses his lips to my forehead, lingering there as his arms envelope me. I feel like he's physically holding together all my fragmented pieces, like a cracked vase stuck back together with sticky tape. Without him, I would be an ugly mess right now. His hand trails down my arm and his fingers lace through mine. "Let's go to bed," he says, then pulls me towards the doorway and into the room.
My head is spinning from the tequila, and I feel emotionally drained. Jude reaches for my shirt, dragging it over my head before he rummages through the bag on the bed and takes out a t-shirt. His eyes lock with mine as he removes my bra and shoves the shirt over my head. Next, he unfastens my jeans and pushes them down my legs until I step out of them. His jeans and shirt disappear, and he gets into the enormous bed, pulling me with him. I
wrap my arm around his waist and rest my cheek against his warm chest. At a moment where we've lost the most precious thing we have; he feels like the only thing left. His fingers stroke through my hair soothingly as I listen to the steady beat of his heart.
"I love you, doll."
"I love you," I breathe.
Jude drifts to sleep, and though I'm exhausted, I can't sleep. Eventually, I give up, sliding out from beneath his thick arm. I get out of bed and quietly leave the room.
Marney’s laughter float up the stairwell, and I follow the sound until I find him in the kitchen. Gabe and Marney are sitting at the table, smoking and drinking with cards in their hands. "I'll raise you a hundred," Marney says.
I clear my throat and they both look up before I step into the room and pull out a chair. "Hey."
"Want in?" Marney winks and tosses some poker chips at me.
I shake my head. "I'm good.” There’s a pause. “I actually need to talk to you both."
"Suit yourself," Marney grumbles.
Gabe puts his cards down and brings his beer to his lips, I guess waiting on me to say something.
"This is bad. You know that..." I trail off. "We're taking on a cartel. You know that the likelihood of us surviving that is slim. I have to plan for that."
"I don't plan on surviving each day," Gabe says.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Well, I need you to, Gabe." Sighing, I meet both their gazes. "I need you to promise me that you will make sure Cayla is safe." I look at Gabe. "Camilla has her. Get them out of there, get Cayla to Lizzy." He opens his mouth to speak, but I rush on. "And I'm going to need papers for Cayla and Lizzy. Birth certificates, passports, a driver's license. New names, make it so Cayla is Lizzy's daughter." That hurts so much more than it should.
"What do I look like to you?" Gabe tosses his hands in the air. "I run a cartel, not a secret service."
I clench my teeth. "Gabe, do not mess with me right now. I know you can get this shit. You're a corrupt fucker. Just get it done. I'll pay whatever you need."
He glares at me before he sniffs. "Corrupt... I run a legitimate business."
"Ah, don't take it too hard, Gabe," Marney chuckles, staring at the cards still fanned out in his hand. "She don't mean it."
"Promise me," I say, staring at Gabe. "Please..." My voice hitches, my façade crumbling fast.
"Fine. Fine." He picks his cards back up and pushes a stack of coins towards the center of the table. "I'll raise you another fifty, gringo."
I roll my eyes. "Marney, a word?" I stand up and start walking towards the door.
Marney grumbles something under his breath and drops the cards on the table before he grabs his cigarette from the ashtray and places it between his lips. The chair legs scrape over the floor and he grabs the waist of his jeans, hitching them back up underneath is gut.
Gabe swears in Spanish and throws his cards down. Marney follows me out of the kitchen, coughing while we move into the hallway. "What's up, darlin'?"
I stare at the floor. "I'm scared, Marney," I admit. "I'm scared of leaving my little girl in this world without me, without her father." He grabs my shoulder, squeezing it in his meaty palm. "Your family to her,” I say, “and I know it's asking a lot, but I want you to go with her and Lizzy. Watch over her like you watched over Jude and Caleb." God, we've lost too many people we love, and it just feels like a bottomless pit.
He inhales, his gaze drifting to the floor. He takes the cigarette from his lips and blows a puff of smoke through his nostrils like a bull. "Now, now, you ain't gonna die." He glances up at me. I can see the doubt behind his old, blue eyes, the worry. "But if it'll make you feel better, I'll promise you I'll take care of her. Don't need to promise it because no one's dying, but I'll promise it anyway."
I smile sadly at him and kiss his cheek. "Thank you." I back away from him and turn around. And that's it.
I have done all I can. Cayla's fate is now in Marney and Gabriel's hands, which isn't completely reassuring, but I trust them to make sure she's okay. I trust Lizzy. Now, I have to push down all these emotions. I have to take the memory of Cayla, the pain of her loss and lock it in a tiny box. I need to become someone I don't like. I need to be the woman that the cartel themselves fear, the woman who killed Jésus Lopez.
23
Tor
I sit at the breakfast bar clutching a cup of coffee. My head is pounding and my stomach churning from last night's tequila. Gabe strolls into the kitchen wearing only a pair of jeans and a scowl. He's still harbouring a slight limp from where I shot him.
"Tor," he says curtly.
"Gabe." I push a cup of coffee towards him and he inspects it as he takes a seat across from me.
"Is it poisoned?"
I roll my eyes and shove his arm. "Don't be a dick."
"I'm sorry if I have problems trusting a woman who shot me."
"I shot myself if it makes you feel any better," I say, sipping my caffeine supply.
He lifts a brow. "It doesn't."
I roll my eyes. "Don't be such a pussy. It's just another scar to add to your array." I nod towards his chest littered with old knife wounds and bullet holes. There's a tattoo of a naked lady on his arm with her head blown off by a nasty bullet scar.
Jude stumbles into the room and plops down at the table next to me. He scratches his hand through his hair before grabbing my mug. I glare at him and he grunts, placing his hand on my thigh as he takes a sip.
"So, we need to win a war..." I say, looking between the two of them. Jude glares at me and Gabe snorts over his cup. "Well, any suggestions on how we do that?"
"It's too early for this shit," Jude grumbles as he pushes up from the table and takes my mug to the coffee pot. I watch him grab a second cup and fill both before bringing them back and sitting down at the table.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather Cayla," I look at Gabe, "and Camilla, weren't in Russia any longer than they need to be. So, we start now. Today."
"It's not fucking rocket science, Tor," Jude says. "Fuck."
Gabe snickers and I shoot a nasty glare at him. "If it's so bloody easy, then tell me why the Sinaloa run Juarez, Gabriel, and not you."
He stares at me before shooting me the bird. "I'm too lazy to run Juarez..." he mumbles.
"Bullshit."
"We have to be smart," Jude interrupts. "Take out their supply. Weaken the chain...inbetweeners, suppliers..." Jude takes a sip of coffee before lighting a cigarette. Small wisps of smoke seep between his lips. "We bring them to their knees. And it's best if we get them while whoever the fuck is in charge now is scrambling to maintain their reign."
"Who's in charge? Michael?" Gabe asks, looking at me.
I shake my head. "Jésus shot Michael when I came home with a bullet in my leg. I don't know who will step up now. I never saw the inner circle beyond Jésus and Michael."
Gabe drags a hand down his face.
"I had a list, before I knew you were alive," Jude says, taking another slow drag from his smoke, "of all the little fucks that worked with them. There was one guy...fuck, what was his name. De Costa—"
"Daniel De Costa?" I narrow my eyes.
Jude grins. "Yes. Dirty ass cop. I think he's the ringleader to all those little shit cops that turn their heads when their coke shipments cross the border. Taking his ass out would make it a hellava lot harder to get that stuff over the border."
I tap my nails over the marble work top. "I know how to get to him," I say, looking at Jude with a smirk. "But he's always with his police buddies. Take one and you'll have to take them all."
"Fuck the cops," Gabe says.
"They go to a bar in Juarez every Tuesday to pick up their money from the Sinaloa,” I say.
"So we just go in and shoot everyone." Gabe claps his hands together. "Perfect."
"Yeah,” I say, “if we want to die.” Gabe huffs before I continue, "It's where all the Sinaloa cartel members hang out. Dirty cops, gang bangers, sicario's...walk in there and w
e aren't walking out."
"Fine,” Gabe says. “We'll blow it up."
I shake my head. "You couldn't get close enough." I tap my finger over my bottom lip. "We need to draw them out."
"No," Jude says, already shaking his head. "I know what you're thinking, Tor, and abso-fucking-lutely not."
I fold my arms over my chest. "I haven't even said shit yet."
He shoots a condescending look in my direction. "You don't have to. You're predictable as fuck."
I roll my eyes and sigh. "I am not." He glares at me. "But I killed their boss, they want me. I'm distinctive. If they see me, they'll follow and—"
"They'll shoot you," Gabe says. "They want you dead.”
"Well, I'll just have to be quick then won't I?"
"Nope." Jude pushes up from the table.
"I'll bring them to you,” I say with a smile. “You guys kill them all. Done. I even have Jesus' bullet proof car! I'm like a flashing beacon for them, Jude."
"Don't give a shit." He points at me when I open my mouth to protest. "Don't start with me, woman. I'm not in the mood."
"We made a deal," I say, locking eyes with him.
"Yeah, but we have to fucking finish the job first." He stares angrily at me.
"What deal is this, ese?" Gabe asks, lifting a brow.
"Stay out of it Gabe," Jude snaps.
"Gabe, tell him he's being sentimental and fucking emotional," I say.
Gabe stands and makes his way to the door. "Why don't we go to my office, Jude?" And with that, Jude and Gabe head out into the foyer.
"Oh, it's like that, is it?" I huff a laugh. "I swear, I have bigger balls than the pair of you." I push away from the table and storm after them.
By the time I get to the top of the stairs, the door slams in my face and I hear the lock click. Fuck them. I press my ear to the door but all I can hear is muted murmurs. My temper is bubbling just below the surface and I swear, I'm going to kill them. I walk back to our room and take my gun from the bedside table along with a couple of spare clips before I head back downstairs and outside.
War (Wrong Book 4) Page 12