War (Wrong Book 4)

by Stevie J. Cole

  I'm sitting at the dining table, my mind a million miles away, when I hear the roar of several engines pulling up outside. Brakes squeal and gravel skitters off the brick work of the house. The front door slams open and through the open door I see several men burst through, a couple of them covered in blood. I jump up, my heart beating in my throat for a moment.

  My body relaxes the second I see Jude. A deep-set frown masks his features as he walks into the room. "What happened?" I ask.

  Aggravation clings to him as he drags a hand down his face. "Some fucker shot Gabe."

  I press my hand against my chest. Gabe's a pain in the arse ninety-nine percent of the time, but he's also like family now. "Is he...?" I can't even finish the sentence. We're so close, so bloody close, and they take him out now? The day after they agreed to a deal.

  "No, it was shitty shot, but he's sure as shit not going to be in any shape to go to that meeting."

  I narrow my eyes at him, and then Marney comes through the door, whistling. "Where have you been?" I ask, folding my arms over my chest.

  He holds up his paper and a packet of cigarettes. "Can't a man get the paper?" He glances around. "What the hell’s going on?"

  "Gabe got shot," I say.

  He looks at Jude. "Well, ain't that some shit?" He shuffles off, placing a cigarette between his lips as he goes. Those two are up to something, I know they are, but I say nothing.

  I grab Jude's arm and pull him to the side, away from everyone. "So, what now? We just go to that meeting without Gabe?"

  "Yeah." He grabs a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, staring off into the nothing.

  I chew on my thumbnail. "Jude, we can't do this without him."

  "Oh, Jesus Christ." He turns and glares at me. "What the hell do we need Gabe for, huh? We just need his men."

  "I don't know! It just seems like shitty cartel etiquette for a boss not to be at a meeting between two rival cartels. We aren't the Juarez cartel, Jude. We're nobody, bloody gringos as far as they're concerned."

  He takes a step toward me, his jaw clenching. "Do you think I give a fuck about their goddamn etiquette?" He leans down closer to my ear. "We're going in there to die, remember?"

  I rake my fingers through my hair, dropping my gaze to the floor before I glance back up at him. Those dark green eyes lock with mine, swirling with turmoil and rage. "Just make sure we take them with us."

  "No one will be getting out of that building," he says. "Don't worry."

  I snort. "Those might be the most pointless words ever spoken."

  He smirks, wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck. "Maybe."

  My hands tremble as I place my fingers around his wrist. I'm scared. I can admit that to myself. No one wants to walk to their own death, and there's something horrible in knowing you're going to die. It's the brutal truth of humanity. We're born, we live, we die, but I'd just rather not know when, even if the cause is just. I just don't want to admit that to Jude.

  He sweeps a finger over my cheek. "It's okay to be scared, doll," he whispers.

  I can't help but smile because he always knows. "It's for Cayla. I would do anything for her." I shake my head, unable to find the words because there's a 'but' in there, I'm just too proud to speak.

  "I'd be worried if you weren't," he says before he gently kisses my lips.

  For the first time since we started this, I realise that Jude will die. My strong, angry, beautiful man will cease to exist, and that hurts far more than my own death. A world without Jude just seems...wrong.

  I grip the front of his shirt and kiss him back, my heart squeezing out desperate, broken beats inside my chest. A wall of emotions assault me in a barrage, and I pull away from him, turning my back. I can't do this to him right now. He needs to be focused on the meeting, on destroying the Sinaloa, on freeing Cayla. Nothing else matters. Nothing else can matter.

  "Tor." His arm slips around my waist and I rest my head against his shoulder. I bite my bottom lip, fighting a sob as I wind my fingers through his. I lift our entwined hands and kiss over his knuckles.

  "You should go and handle Gabe's men," I say.

  He exhales a deep breath and presses his cheek against mine, brushing his lips over my jaw. He slowly pulls away. I listen to his heavy footfalls as he leaves the room. I just can't be around all of this right now, so I grab a bottle of tequila from the kitchen and disappear into our bedroom. Might as well die with a hangover.

  Hours pass and the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. I sip the bottle of tequila as I sit on the balcony, my back against the wall and my knees pulled up to my chest. Fireflies lazily drift past me and I reach out, stirring the air around them. I feel everything and yet nothing. It's as though my head is just an angry swarm of emotions so loud that I can't grab onto anything through the deafening buzz. I hear the bedroom door open and, a few seconds later, Jude appear in my periphery. I wordlessly lift my bottle of tequila. He takes it from me, tipping it back.

  I can see it written all over his face. He's afraid. Jude Pearson is afraid. He crouches next to me, placing his warm hand on my knee. "The sky's pretty, huh?"

  I smile and glance at him. "Jude Pearson commenting on pretty things. Now I know the world is ending."

  A soft smirk works its way over his lips, and he laughs. "Only for us, doll." He sweeps his hand along my jaw, cupping my cheek. "But you know what? " he kisses my lips so sweetly. "I regret nothing when it comes to loving you."

  My heart flutters in my chest as tears prick my eyes. When you have a love like this, it's so hard to let go of, even if you know you're taking it with you to the grave. I reach for him, winding my fingers through his thick hair. Those deep green eyes meet mine, his gaze so unbreakably strong. "God, I love you," I say, my voice breaking slightly.

  "And I love you." He kisses me again before pulling back and staring into my eyes. "Thank you for giving me reason." I watch his nostrils flare. "For Cayla…for loving a man who is unredeemable."

  The tears break free and I shake my head. I can't talk. I pull him to me and kiss him, holding him as tightly as I can. For the last three and a half years, Jude Pearson has been like oxygen to me. It seems only fitting that without my oxygen, I should cease to exist. His hand glides up the side of my face and his thumb strokes over my jaw. Our kisses our painful and sweet, full of desperation and a cloying need.

  "I want you. One last time." I reach for his shirt and yank it over his head, exposing tanned, tattooed skin over chiseled muscles. He has always been so beautiful and dangerous, like forbidden fruit. He has been my love, my addiction, but I'd rather live a short time feeling Jude's brand of high than a lifetime without it. He shifts, cupping the back of my head as he pushes me down on the tiled floor of the balcony.

  "Promise me you'll never forget the way I loved you." His hands glide beneath my shirt, pushing it up until he pulls it over my head.

  "Never."

  His lips brush my neck, and he places slow, drugging kisses over my skin until my head swims and my breaths become erratic. The warm evening breeze touches my exposed body.

  His hands slide over my thighs, up to my hips, and he grabs my shorts, yanking them down with my underwear. His hand immediately finds its way back between my legs, his finger sliding over me. "God, I'll miss this," he whispers next to my neck as he slides his fingers deep inside me.

  I grip the back of his neck, pulling him down to me. "You won't though," I breathe against his lips. His tongue grazes mine as his fingers move, pushing and twisting inside me. My fingers rake over his back, scratching across his hot skin. I breathe him in, wanting to touch him everywhere, commit him to memory, even if it is just to take to the grave with me. He's my soul mate, and for us, ‘til death do us part seems fitting. What we have far exceeds any bond of marriage. He kisses me slowly, and as my body trembles and shatters for him, he watches me come, his eyes never leaving my face.

  His takes his hand away from me before he lifts me
from the floor. My legs part around his hips and the rough denim of his jeans brushes over my sensitive flesh. He lays me on the bed and kisses my cheek, the corner of my mouth, my jaw.

  "Fucking beautiful," he says. I watch as he strips out of his jeans and boxers. "I love watching you come, doll." I feel the blush hit my cheeks, and he laughs, dropping his naked body over mine. His thumb brushes my cheekbone and his expression grows serious. "I am sorry, Tor."

  I press my finger to his lips and shake my head before I push up, forcing him onto his back. I straddle him, feeling his hard cock beneath me. "Not now. Not anymore." I lean forward and touch his lips gently before covering them with my own. His hands roam over my body, the heat of them causing me to break out in goosebumps. I fight the tears swimming in my eyes, I fight that tight feeling growing in my chest. I want this to just be us. One last time. Us. Our love—I want the rest of the world to fade away the way it always has when I'm with him. One last time before it fades away for good.

  He slides inside me and I focus on each slow movement I make over him as I glide my hands over his muscular chest. His hands slide over my waist, up to my breasts.

  "I fucking love you, Tor."

  I slam my eyes shut as I bear down on him, burying him as deep inside me as I can. "I love you, too." And with that, the tears break free, streaming down my cheeks. I'm crying so hard I'm barely able to move, but Jude grips my hips, forcing me so slowly up and down on him.

  "At least we have a chance to say goodbye," he says. I can hear the emotions choking him, I can feel his chest trembling underneath my palms, and it breaks me. What we have done to each other over the course of three years breaks me. He sits up, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me so tight against him, like he's afraid to let go. And I don't want him to.

  I move over him and he rises to meet each subtle movement of my hips. His lips dance over my throat, along my jaw until his mouth is against mine. His hands find their way into my hair and he fists it as he deepens the kiss and buries himself hard inside me. The longer we kiss, the more desperate our movements grow, as though our souls are trying to express—to explain— the unexplainable, how deeply we love each other, how much we need each other, because some things just cannot be explained with words.

  I grasp his face and touch my forehead to his, breathing him in. He grips my hips, forcing them to roll over him, slow and deep. "Let go, Tor," he whispers.

  That small tremor of sensation works through me, building and rolling under his dominant hold. I can't help but break for him, and he kisses me, swallowing my moans as he stiffens beneath me. We still, and I stay here with him, chest to chest, him still buried inside me and his rapid breaths blowing over my face.

  This is all we have, but we will always have it. Not even death can take this from us.

  36

  Jude

  Gabe grunts as he sits up in the bed. I can see the strain on his face when he shifts and I feel like shit for having him shot. But I can't let this get fucked up.

  "Shit, ese. I feel like hell," he says, reaching for the glass of water by the bed.

  "Yeah..."

  "I trust you can do this." He looks at me with a sincerity I've not seen from many people in my life.

  I nod just as there's a knock on the door. The door slowly swings open and Gabe's men file into the room, each with guns and strings of bullets strapped across their chest. It looks like we are going into a fucking zombie apocalypse. Shit.

  "You know what you are doing," Gabe says to them. "Nothing has changed. You bomb your targets. He glances at a guy to my right. "And Daniel, you take your men with Jude to the warehouse. Protect him as if he were me. This," Gabe reaches over and places his hand on my shoulder, eyeing them all, "is who you follow today." He locks eyes with me and nods. "You take down the Sinaloa shitheads, ese. For your daughter, for my sister." His attention goes back to his men. "Do not question this gringo, si?"

  They nod.

  “Alright, go then,” he says, and the men leave the room like a small army.

  This is organized mass destruction. I'm taking out the leaders and these men are taking out what’s left. Building by building. Business by business. By the time we're done, there will be nothing left of the Sinaloa cartel.

  He takes a heavy breath as a soft smile works over his lips. "Be careful, ese, and I will see you later."

  We shake hands and I leave the room knowing I will never see Gabriel Estrada again.

  ***break***

  The desert is so fucking desolate and depressing. I watch the red sands whir past the windows. Never in a million years did I think I would end up here. In cartel land, trying to save my little girl. This is where it all ends, and the stress bearing down on me at this very moment is suffocating as shit.

  Tor's sitting next to me, her small hand in mine. We've barely said a word to each other on the long drive through the desert. What can you say when you know you are going somewhere to die? I've spent the last half hour playing out moments of my life like a movie. I guess trying to hold onto those things one last time because who really knows what awaits you in death? If heaven and hell are real things, I sure as shit know where I'm going.

  The driver pulls up to the warehouse, the rusted metal door still bolted. Four black Hummers sit to the side of the building right next to the wire fencing. The doors open and men climb out, only two of them with visible guns, and Tor's hold on my hand tightens. "For Cayla," she whispers.

  "Yes, for Cayla," I say and throw open the door. A handful of Gabe's men get out of the car behind us and follow me. I feel bad they’re going to die with us, but it was unavoidable. I couldn't exactly turn up with just Tor. We wouldn’t even make it out of the car.

  A man wearing a fitted suit steps forward. When he goes to slick his hair back, the sun glints from his watch. We walk around the front of the car, and one of Gabe's men holds up his hand to halt us.

  "I'm Pedro," the man in the suit says, "head of the Sinaloa cartel. So sorry Gabriel couldn't make it." He smirks. "But I do hope we can come to some agreement over Juarez."

  I don't respond. Just glare at him.

  The tension bristles from every guy here. Pedro looks the part, but I can smell his uncertainty like a shark smells blood. I shove my hand in my pocket and wrap my fingers around my cell phone, nervously checking that it's still there. One of Gabe's men goes to the rusted door of the warehouse and lifts the heavy bolt. He pulls on it and the large metal door creaks open.

  There's a moment of hesitation before we all walk into the dark warehouse. The guy in front grabs the lever on the wall and flips the switch. The fluorescent lights buzz to life before I scan the room, taking note of the barrels of gasoline I placed by the far wall yesterday. Stacks of abandoned wooden boxes lay scattered about the space. Pedro walks over to one and leans against it before looking at his watch.

  I motion Tor over to the side of the room, using my hand to guide her between me and an open doorway.

  "Jude..." she whispers.

  "Just wait, okay."

  She huffs behind me. Pedro locks eyes with me and we stare each other down. One predator sizing up another, trying to work out who will end up as prey. The longer our gazes our locked, the thicker the tension grows, until it's almost a living breathing beast. Tor shifts uneasily behind me, making me hyperaware each short breath she takes. Every one of Pedro's men glare at us. After all, I'm the bookie and she's the woman who murdered their boss.

  "It seems your friend's little cartel has caused quiet the problems for us over the past several weeks," Pedro finally says.

  "No, that would be me," I say, lifting a brow at him. "Tell me, how does it feel to have lost the Sinaloa in the space of a month? Hell, you must be the shortest reigning boss they've ever had." I smirk. I have to bide my time here. I need them to make the first move because the second I go for Tor, they're going to shoot. "You run this city like shit," I say. The men with Pedro shift uneasily as they exchange glances.


  He laughs. "Ah, but that is where you are wrong. Jésus ran the city like shit. Distracted by pretty things." His eyes flick to Tor, and he grins. "I, on the other hand, intend to be much more ruthless."

  I can see a slight flicker in his eyes as a smile spreads over his lips, and, as if on cue, the doors bang open and swarms of Sinaloa pour in. Gabe's men expect it. The warehouse fills with the echoes of gunshots and shouts. It's the fucking distraction I need. I grab Tor and sling her through the open doorway behind us. When she attempts to fight me, I shove her as hard as I can. She falls back, grabbing the metal railing of the bomb shelter stairs just before she tumbles down the steps. "You go to your sister and you get Cayla, and don't ever let anyone besides her know you are alive." I go to shut the door and pause. "I love you, Tor. Always will."

  Before she has a chance to say anything, I slam the door closed and hold the handle, using all my weight to hold it shut. Tor pulls on the door, trying to get it open as bullets ricochet from the metal walls. Holding the door with one hand, I fish the phone from my pocket. She manages to get the door open about an inch, screaming my name, before it slams closed again. I struggle to type over the screen as she fights me. Did she really ever believe I would let her die? The only job I have is to protect my girls, and what kind of man would I be if I led her to her death, allowing my daughter to grow up without her beautiful mother?

  My finger hovers over the button that will detonate the bomb. In this moment, all the noise, all the chaos fades to static behind the pounding of my heart. This is it. There is no turning back.

  There is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for them because I know a life without either of them isn't worth living, and I can't imagine a world where they don't exist. I press the button, waiting. It seems like an eternity before I feel the pressure, the heat followed by the deafening boom that sends me flying across the room away from the door. I'm thrown against a wall, smoke and debris swirling in the air. There's an eerie quiet just before the metal rafters begin to creak and groan, and a sound like a crackling, falling tree echoes through the crumbling warehouse. I'm drowning in a cloud of dust when I watch the beam come crashing down.