Dirty War

by N. E. Henderson

  I’m going to enjoy putting a bullet through him. And. I. Will. It may not be today or tomorrow, but soon he’s going to wish he’d never walked into my apartment.

  “I’ll come alone,” I bite out.

  “And you won’t say jack-shit to anybody about our deal, or when and where you’re going.”

  “How are we going to make a trade if no one is there to take Drago’s son?” I ask, even though I know all of this could go very wrong if I don’t tell Eric. I need backup. It’s the only way I can ensure Gabriel is released and given to safe arms.

  “I’ll arrange someone reliable to transport the boy to his father.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “You shouldn’t, but in this case, the boy isn’t what I want anymore.” A faux moan comes through the phone. “My desire to bend a certain cop to my every demand outweighs my use for the kid.”

  “Just tell me where. I’ll come now.” I want this over with. I want Gabriel in safe hands, and if that can’t be mine, then Drago’s it is. It’s only right for him to be with his dad, not me.

  “Not so fast, whore.” I bite the inside of my cheek so that my anger at his word doesn’t cause me to ruin any chances of Gabe being rescued. “I have to make sure you’ll keep your end of our deal. I’ll be in touch.”

  The call ends before I’m able to press him further.

  “Fuck!” I yell, releasing the pent-up frustration and hatred coursing through me.

  Closing my eyes, I pull in as much air as my lungs can hold, attempting to gain control. Just a little longer and Gabe will be safe. I force myself to believe my thoughts. I have to, or else I’ll break, and that’s the last thing I can afford to do. Gabriel needs all of my strength right now and that’s exactly what I’ll give him.

  20

  I sit on the floor of my bedroom only wearing a black bra and matching bikini panties. The sun from the sheer curtains beats down on my back, heating my skin, but it doesn’t penetrate past the surface. On the inside, I’m freezing cold—and empty.

  It feels like I’m at war with everyone—Drago, my dad, Jackson, my department, Diaz, and myself.

  Drago wants me, yet he really doesn’t. I won’t be a ping-pong ball, bouncing to him when it’s convenient for him and then be tossed away when he’s done with me. My dad is wrong. Drago didn’t give me up to protect me. I’m capable of taking care of myself; I always have been. I can take whatever is thrown at me. If D wanted us together, we’d be together and fight through anything that comes at us. But that isn’t the case.

  My father admires Drago now. A dry laugh bubbles from my lips as tears simultaneously drop, sliding down my cheeks and onto my thighs where the others have landed since I’ve been sitting here. My dad despised Drago not that long ago, but now he thinks D did the right thing by walking away from me. Dad doesn’t want me to be a part of the Acerbi world or what even being friends with D would bring into my life.

  What he doesn’t understand, or realize, is that I’m already a part of it. Even if Drago and I never come back together as one, I’m a part of his dangerous life. I deal with the gangs and drugs daily, or at least I did. Now it seems my department is working against me to take that away. Even if I get to keep my job, Tom wants to transfer me. If that happens, it’s unlikely I’ll land in the same or similar unit.

  Maybe I do need to give this mock DEA interview process with Eric consideration. If I become a DEA agent, I’ll still be working to help rid our streets of drugs that kill too many kids every year. It’s why my role means so much to me. Being a homicide detective helps bring justice to the family of a murdered person. Being in my unit, I’m able to affect the lives of living people.

  The image of my brother when he left the other day won’t stop plaguing my mind. He’s mad and hurt that I didn’t turn to him; that I didn’t call him when I woke up. And I get it, but at the same time, I had Gabriel’s whereabouts front and center to worry about. I couldn’t allow what happened to me to step in front of that, so pushing it to the back of my mind was a necessity.

  A shudder runs through me. More tears fall, dropping and sliding down my thighs.

  More and more it’s getting harder to ignore the baby I lost. Why didn’t I know? There was a life growing inside of me. Isn’t that something a woman should have instincts about? I rely on my instincts daily, so why did they fail me this time? And why does this hurt that lives deep inside me only grow? I thought loss was supposed to ease with each day, not fester.

  When does it stop? I want it to stop. I didn’t know I was pregnant. I never experienced the shock or joy, so what right do I have to feel this way? Why do I feel lost and messed up in the head over something I didn’t know existed until it was stolen from me?

  Maybe it doesn’t go away. That thought wracks me even more. Maybe this is a hurt that you never recover from. God, I hope not. I don’t want to forget. I’m not asking for that, but I do want the holes in my chest to fill. The only way I know to achieve that is to find Gabriel. I’ll do anything to find him—anything.

  Last night I stalked Chasity’s Facebook page. She’s a sociable one. Bitter seeps in as I picture her face in my mind.

  Connie confirmed for me last night that Chasity was informed of Gabriel’s kidnapping the day it happened and she told the officer that Gabe was our problem now. We took him, so he’s ours.

  I grit my teeth, balling my fists. How did she give birth to him and not feel a thing? I never knew my baby and I’m wracked with too many emotions at once. Sorrow and guilt trumping all of them.

  Pushing up from the floor, I force myself to be done with the pity party I’m having. This does nothing to help find Gabriel.

  Chasity posted she would be spending the day pampering herself at Serenity, the spa located inside The Cove hotel. So, that’s where I plan on being too.

  Eric arranged it earlier this morning, ensuring I would be getting a pedicure the exact same time she would. I can’t even enjoy the thought of a free Pedi when my mind is focused on pulling information out of her—and I will. If I have to use threats, then so be it. If I have to get physical with her, I will. I meant what I said. I will do anything at this point to find Gabriel.

  I have to.

  His life is important. He matters and doesn’t deserve what was placed on his shoulders. Diaz will go down for using him as a pawn, for kidnapping him. No one has ever been able to pin a drug charge on him, but we can charge him with kidnapping. If found guilty, he would serve time. Although, prison is too good for him, and in my eyes, not justice.

  It’s hard to come to terms with that thought. I don’t believe in the death penalty or killing a person outside of self-defense. Yet, all the anger I hold for Sebastian Diaz that’s exactly what I want. But even so, justified murder in one’s mind is still murder nonetheless.

  I have doubts that I could pull the trigger, ending his life, even if it is what he deserves.

  Am I that person?

  Can I do it?

  Only time will tell.

  Thumbing through a fashion magazine, my toes soak in the hot bubbly water in front of my reclined chair. Supposedly, it’s some kind of coconut scent, but I don’t smell anything over the heavy chemicals wafting through the air. I usually paint my own toes, not allowing myself to spend money on this luxury. When Alana and I do this, at her treat, I’m able to relax and enjoy the experience.

  Today I’m not afforded that familiarity. There will be no relaxation until I’ve apprehended Sebastian Diaz and I know Gabriel is safe. God, I pray I find him safe and sound. I really don’t know how much more of this worry and anxiety I can handle.

  If it’s this bad and I’m not even his parent, I can’t imagine what it must feel like for a real mom or dad to lose their child. Briefly, my mind thinks about the child I did lose, but I keep shoving those thoughts as far back and away from my conscious thought as possible. Now isn’t the time, and I’m not sure I want to face those feelings.

  Movement to my right gains
my attention as someone takes a seat in the chair next to me. I don’t need to look at her to know it’s Chasity Carlisle. It’s already been arranged that she would be seated next to me.

  I wait until her feet are soaking in the bubbly water and mine are resting on the platform outside the soaking tub where the pedicurist is filing the bottom of my foot. She’s carrying on a conversation with one of her coworkers, not paying their clients any mind. That works out better for me anyway. I don’t need or want them to be chatty or hear me speak to Gabriel’s mother.

  Glancing over, I pretend to be interested in the shade of nail polish Miss Carlisle places down next to the pedicurist station.

  “That’s a pretty shade. What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  I smile, keeping half of my face out of her line of sight by letting my dark hair cover the right side of my face.

  “We both know you aren’t interested in the color of the week I’m getting.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” She’s managed to catch me off guard, and that doesn’t settle well with me.

  “I’m not that naive. I know who you are, Detective. They’d never allow me to roam the city on my own if I didn’t know what you looked like, so I could dodge you should I see you.” I see she hasn’t lost her condescending voice. Can’t say that I’ve missed it either.

  “So then why are you sitting here next to me?” Since she wants to cut to the chase, I see no point in holding back my interrogation. Time is of the essence. If I don’t find Gabriel soon, Drago may never see his son again.

  “Because I’m tired of being played like some dumb little blonde that doesn’t know shit about shit.”

  “Then tell me where I can find Sebastian Diaz and I’ll get out of here and no one will know you’ve said a word to me.”

  “You want him or Acerbi’s spawn?”

  “Did you just refer to your son as a spawn?” The instinct to punch her in the mouth is so natural I don’t even feel bad for the thought crossing my mind. I won’t do it. I can’t afford to. Not only could she press charges for assault. More importantly, she’s just let on that she may know where Gabriel is, and if that is the case, I have to remain calm—no matter how hard that is.

  “Both,” I tell her.

  “Which is worth more to you?”

  “Miss Carlisle, I’m not here to play games with you. If you know where either or both are, please tell me. I promise to keep you out of it if it leads me to find either one of them.”

  “Oh!” She laughs, finally cutting her eyes over to me. “You don’t actually think I’m scared of you, do you?”

  “Frankly, I don’t care, but I’d be willing to bet everything I have that you’re scared of Diaz. Only someone dumb wouldn’t be, and since you’ve already professed that you aren’t dumb . . .”

  “But,” she drawls out, “if you take him out, you’ll be solving both of our problems.”

  “You don’t think there is someone waiting to take Diaz’s spot once he’s arrested?”

  “You don’t arrest a man like Sebastian Diaz, Detective. You put as many rounds in him as you can and end the problem once and for all. Aren’t our prisons overly populated as is? You’d be doing our system a favor by killing Sebastian. Don’t you agree?”

  “I agree with justice, so unless he does something to warrant being taken down with a bullet, that isn’t my plan.” The lie comes out smooth on my tongue. I don’t need anybody thinking I want to kill the man that’s stolen precious things from me. An eye for an eye. That’s the way I see it.

  “We both know he won’t go down without a fight. But I don’t know exactly where he is. He isn’t exactly known for broadcasting his whereabouts.”

  I thought she wanted to cut the bullshit and tell me what she knows. But she’s toying with me and it’s pissing me off.

  “If you don’t know anything then you aren’t of use to me.” The first coat of polish is applied to my toes and it’s likely when she confirms she’s useless, I’ll be getting out of here even if the pedicurist is half done. Guilt already eats at me for being in a place like this, getting somewhat pampered when there is a life in danger somewhere out there.

  “I never said I didn’t know anything. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to assume?”

  “Then give me something I can use. Or would you rather me drag you down to the station. You know, Diaz would probably get wind of that before I had you in the back of my car.” I’m not above scaring her if it gets me information.

  “Sebastian has a fake customs broker where he brings his product in.”

  “That’s impossible. Customs and Border Protection would be all over that.”

  “Okay,” she huffs. “Maybe it’s a legit person or business, but it’s still a facade for what he uses it for. I’ve been there. The only people there are the ones that work for Sebastian and that other guy, Brandon, I think.”

  “Where?” I’m not going to get into the logistics of this. Maybe he’s using the spot as entry into the U.S., but it’s still farfetched.

  “Same place as your boyfriend’s shipping company. Just on the opposite side. Port 124 to be exact. Are we done now?”

  “You’ve known where your baby is this whole time and you’ve allowed him to stay in danger? How do you live with yourself?” I really want to know. I can’t fathom being in her shoes and not caring about a life I helped create.

  “He’s not my baby. I never wanted him. I’m twenty, and at nineteen I was pregnant, because the man I love told me to do so. Only now, I know he doesn’t love me back.”

  “Diaz?”

  “No.” Her nose scrunches up as her head shakes. “Dylan.”

  “Your uncle?” I ask for clarification.

  She rolls her eyes. “He’s my uncle through marriage. There is no DNA connecting us. As if,” she adds.

  I should leave. She’s already told me where Gabriel is. That’s exactly what I wanted, so why aren’t I out of this chair and on my way to rescue my sweet boy?

  Curiosity and a need to know something else.

  Drago doesn’t know how he created that beautiful boy and she is my only way to find out. I need to get her to tell me for Drago’s sake—and maybe mine too.

  “Drago doesn’t remember sleeping with you? So, tell me. How did you get pregnant by him?”

  “Your lover boy was out drinking with that hottie brother of his. He just so happened to spot a chick he once dated in high school. Only”—Chasity giggles like what she is telling is funny—“she didn’t just so happen to be there. Sebastian arranged it. The piece of trash was so desperate for cash she would have had Drago’s baby if she wasn’t such a weak little bitch. No way was Sebastian letting someone like her pull off his plan.”

  Is she fucking kidding me right now? Nothing coming out of her mouth is funny.

  “Let me get this straight. You tricked a man into having sex with you in hopes of getting pregnant?”

  “Do you know how hard that was to pull off? For a minute, I thought I was going to have to take the sperm in his used condom and figure out a way to get it inside me. I mean, eww, gross. Thank God the drug finally took effect.”

  “Drug? You drugged Drago?”

  “Not me. I just sat on his cock and let him do all the work. It was the other chick he was fucking first that spiked his drink when he wasn’t looking. Then when he was going in and out of consciousness, she slid off him, taking the condom with her. And then I took her place. He never knew the difference.”

  “That’s rape,” I blurt out. This disgusting piece of garbage raped him.

  “Oh, don’t give me that self-righteous bullshit. It was me that had to carry a person inside my body for months. More like a lifetime is what it felt like, and my poor body still isn’t right. Worst thing I ever did was agreeing to that ordeal.”

  It’s taking everything in me not to hop out of this chair and beat the shit out of her. An ordeal? She calls Gabriel, my sweet boy, an ordeal.

  “This has nothin
g to do with self-righteousness. You took part in drugging someone and then had sex with him without his consent. In what world do you live in to think that isn’t rape?”

  “Whatever,” she says, growing bored. There isn’t an ounce of remorse other than the pregnancy she feels screwed up her life. “Good luck proving that. My uncle will squash you before that story sees the light of day.”

  I have to get out of here before I lose it on her. I should arrest her for her admission, but it would be inadmissible. In this case, it’s best that I can’t. Her arrest would get to Diaz quicker than I can get to him. And that’s not in Gabriel’s best interest. So, I summon every ounce of strength I have, slip on the sandals I wore in here and bolt as fast as I can without drawing attention to myself. For all I know, Diaz, or even her uncle, could have her being tailed.

  I call Eric as soon as I’m on the road heading toward Gabriel. I know this is it; my one chance to get him back safe and sound. I feel it from somewhere deep inside. I know he’ll be there and I won’t leave that place alive without him.

  No matter what happens, I’ll do anything to ensure his safety. I wasn’t bluffing when I told Diaz that. I meant it then and I still mean it now.

  “I know where Diaz is.”

  “What?!” I shout, not taking my eyes off the road even though I want to look at my cell phone like it’ll show me Eric’s face. “How? So do I. I’m heading there now.”

  “A source just tipped me off. I’m en route too. Where are you?”

  “Leaving The Cove. I’m maybe fifteen minutes from there.”

  “Fuck!” A horn blows, telling me Eric took out his frustration on his steering wheel. “I’m thirty minutes out. You’ll beat me there. Wait, Bri. I need you to wait for me. You need backup. I can’t allow you to go in there alone.”

  “Eric, you can’t ask me to do that. Gabriel is there. I have to get to him before Diaz finds out I know. Chasity could tell him or anyone connected to him about our conversation. He’ll disappear and so will Gabe.”