The Pimp (Colombian Cartel Book 2)

by Suzanne Steele

  I sheath my cock with a condom and have to spit on her slit before I can force my way inside. Bitch is used up and dry. But she’s so high she doesn’t care. It doesn’t even occur to her to fight me as pull on the belt with one hand and clench a fistful of her matted hair with the other.

  As I fuck her to death in full view of the other women, my chest heaves and my vision dims as I seethe with rage -- because, no matter what I do, no matter how tight I pull the belt, she’s not Caden.

  As her guttural choking sounds become frenzied and she mindlessly gasps for air, the final death throes cause her to writhe beneath me. And it fucking turns me on. By the time I unload into the condom, she’s dead and I don’t even care. It was the only way to make her pay for not being Caden. I toss the condom to the floor and fasten my pants. I retrieve my belt and put it back on, then I get the hell out, slowing down just enough to toss an order over my shoulder at the guard.

  “Put the bitch in the trunk of your car and dump her ass with the rest of them.” I whistle as I saunter down the concrete hallway, past the faces of the few women lucid enough to understand the horror they just witnessed. Fuck them; I’m eager to see the woman I really want.

  “Si’, Santiago,” he answers, shaking his head as if it’s the woman who just made a terrible mistake. “She should have listened when she first got here.” He’s still shaking his head as he shuffles in to dispose of her.

  I stop, taking a moment to straighten my clothes and check my look in the convex mirror that hangs just outside the last of the cages. Then I hurry down another hall to another open area. This one is dominated by a single cage, which is occupied by my special guest. I quietly work the lock and enter, closing the door softly behind me, looking at the woman lying on a bed made up with a clean comforter and fresh sheets. I made sure her room was perfect before I brought her here. Her accommodations are far from the other women. No need to subject her to such filth.

  I sit down on the end of the bed, stroking her silky hair. I savor this moment as she eyes me adoringly. I wonder what it will take for her to really look at me like that—besides narcotics.

  “I’m sorry I had to drug you, beautiful. We had to leave your house rather abruptly. They had found us there and I can’t bear to lose you. I most certainly can’t bear to see you hurt.”

  “It’s ‘kay.” She smiles at me again. I know it’s because of the narcotics I slipped into her drink back at her house, but I allow myself to pretend it’s real.

  I made up my mind last night to move this operation somewhere safer. Something just didn’t feel right, just a gut feeling. I’d never forgive myself if there was a firefight and she got caught in the crossfire. With a little discreet help, we slipped away into the night.

  I know Diego will never let me keep her. It’s the reason I’ve decided that, as soon as this last drug deal is done, we’re going away to the one place where he’ll never find her: the jungles of Colombia. Then we’ll be together. We’ll have our own happily ever after and even Diego won’t be able to come between us.

  Chapter Fifty

  Diego

  “Baby, baby, no….This isn’t your fault, Diego,” Brook tries to wrap her arms around me, tries to reassure me after watching me punch Caden’s bedroom wall moments ago. “We might have killed her if we had come in here shooting. Hell, he could have shot her. This guy isn’t stable. He’s fucked up in the head. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  I follow her and Tony out to the car and climb in. It’s a quiet drive as I look out the window, staring at nothing. “We’re all fucked up in the head,” I reply as Tony turns into his driveway. “But Santiago’s one calculating motherfucker.”

  “Hindsight’s a bitch, man,” Tony cuts in, “but I still agree with your woman; it wasn’t the right time to rescue her. You’re letting your emotions get in the way. You can’t do that.”

  I breathe out in an effort to calm down. I know they’re both right. Tony’s military training is showing in the way he manages his emotions with such impressive discipline even though he’s got deep feelings for Caden. I just don’t want to be the cause of my best friend dying.

  Brook immediately begins talking, probably trying to avoid a long silence that would give me time to think. “She’s got to be in one of his warehouses. How many are there, three?” At my nod, she continues, “I think he truly believe he loves her. I think we’ve underestimated him by thinking it’s just a crush. As long as she feeds his ego and feeds that fantasy, she’ll be okay. If she doesn’t then we’ve got problems.”

  Tony agrees with her and joins her in trying to reassure me. “Caden’s smart, Diego. She knows what she needs to do. If she can escape, she will. And if she can play to his sick fantasy she’ll do that too. It’s just like you said: before this thing is over she’ll have him tied up and being held as her captive. Santiago doesn’t stand a chance against her.”

  I know everything they’re telling me is right, but knowing it doesn’t help. This is a different kind of stress. I just want this to be over. It isn’t like the typical cartel storm that I can just ride out.

  I can see the worry on Brook’s face. I’m just glad she understands how I feel about my friend and isn’t feeling insecure about it. I couldn’t deal with the whole ‘Is she prettier than me' thing right now. Brook doesn’t need anyone to validate her or tell her who she is. Yeah, confidence is sexy as hell.

  I suspect that, in her own way, Brook’s as angry as I am. Angry enough to blow Santiago’s brains out and have no remorse about it. Caden’s been good to her, helping her settle in since she arrived at The Club that night. That’s one good thing about this clusterfuck of crazy—Brook and I are on the same page.

  Any chance Santiago had of living through this is gone. The problem isn’t just Santiago, though. Caden has this way of connecting with people, of finding value in them when the rest of the world has written them off. By the time this shit’s over she won’t want me to kill him.

  That’s what I hate about this: even if everything works out and we rescue her, Caden’s going to be devastated if I kill him. But I’ve decided that he’s got to go. He came charging into this situation and has interfered with my life, my relationships, and my business. There have been too many fucking changes lately—first Brook’s ordeal at his hands and now Caden, too. I’ll never forgive him and I can’t overlook any of it. Santiago’s as good as dead.

  Tony slams his hand against the steering wheel as we pull up in front of his house. I’m not the only one who’s frustrated here.

  “Damn it!” he mutters harshly. “We’re right back to square one. In addition to the three warehouses in this immediate area, that son of a bitch has stash houses all over the world. He has access to private planes. This isn’t good. It would be so easy for him to disappear with her.”

  I lock eyes with him in the rearview mirror. “If anybody can find her, it’s you, man. Now I’m going to tell you what you told me: put your emotions aside and do your damn job.”

  “You’re right.” He jumps out of the truck, positioning the gun in the back of his jeans as he waits for us at the front door. He has no way of knowing that, even if he rescues Caden, it will only be the beginning. He’ll be pulled into the worst kind of emotional chaos. Speaking from experience, I almost feel sorry for him; the poor guy won’t know what hit him.

  Chapter Fifty One

  Her Demands

  I sit in a chair, pulled close against the side of the bed, and just watch her sleep. I frown at the thought of her being in this cage, even for a moment. There’ll be hell to pay when she wakes up, no doubt. Although, in all fairness, she’s in a cage that would put a room at the Ritz to shame. I deliberately set everything up that way. But it’s still a cage, no matter how comfortably furnished it is.

  A gilded cage. The irony does not escape me.

  She deserves to live in luxury. She deserves to be taken care of by a better man than me, a man not being eaten alive by his own demons. She has taugh
t me a new, horrifying lesson: that letting go of someone because it’s the best thing for them may very well be the purest form of love there is. But I take no comfort from knowing it.

  When she stirs with a soft sigh, I get up and pour her a cup of coffee from a silver decanter. As the steamy mahogany brew streams into the china cup, I smile sadly at its cheery sunflower design that I chose especially for her. A parting gift of sorts.

  Her soft moan from behind me grabs my attention, and I turn in time to see her sit up and look around groggily. She shakes her head as if to clear it, takes the cup when I offer it to her, wrapping both hands around it. She closes her eyes for a long moment as she takes a fortifying sip. My eyes follow the path of that slim, elegant hand as she runs her fingers through her gleaming, blonde hair…and glowers at me with nothing short of loathing.

  “We need to talk, Caden,” I say, clearing my throat as I lower myself into the chair once more.

  “Uh, yeah…we sure do. I’ll start. I’m assuming you slipped something into my drink last night. You and I both know drugs can be highly addictive. I make a point of not doing drugs in any form, damn you, and now I’ve got God-knows-what in my system. I’m not one of the girls you’re trying to turn out -- and they don’t deserve to be treated that way either. How dare you fuck with me like that?!”

  “Duly noted. I apologize. With all my heart, cara.”

  My simple apology catches her off guard – and me, as well. With a frown, she takes another sip of her coffee, considering me suspiciously over the rim of the cup. After a few sips, she seems more like my Caden.

  “You look different, Santiago,” she says softly. “This scruffy, unkempt look looks good on you.”

  I smile and give her a deep, gentile nod at the compliment. I’m glad she likes what she sees. At least there’s that.

  “You said we needed to talk. So, talk.”

  I stretch my legs out and lean back in my seat, crossing one ankle over the other. “I’ve spent my life not caring about anybody but myself, Caden. It’s served me well enough, taken me to the pinnacle of cartel power. I want you to know that, if I disappear, it’s to keep you safe.” I straighten in my chair, my eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Caden. I’m sure you must have known it for a while now and that it comes as no surprise to you.”

  “Santiago…”

  “No, please. Let me finish. I’ve come to the conclusion that the love of a man like me could never be enough…never be good enough. I have accepted that I must let you go, but before I do, I ask one thing of you…that I may be allowed to contact you someday to…I don’t know, to talk, I suppose. My soul has passed beyond all possibility of redemption, I know. But the sound of your voice soothes me, reminds me of the man I will always wish I could have been. I can’t help but think that the possibility of hearing you speak kindly to me again might…help me.”

  A long silence follows as she stills, eventually moving only to set her coffee cup on the nightstand next to her bed, her eyes lingering on the delicately painted sunflower. She looks up at me and her eyes glitter with an emotion I am unable to discern with any certainty. “So the cartel boss’s game has backfired. Unbelievable,” she says, shaking her head. “You know, when I first found out you killed all those women, I wanted Diego to kill you, to gut you. When you told me about killing those neighborhood animals when you were a boy, I hated you for it. But ultimately, I have to believe that some good still lives in you. I believe you need help, Santiago, not a death sentence.”

  I close my eyes and exhale harshly, relieved to know that she continues to grace me with compassion that I know I don’t deserve.

  "You’re right, though,” she continues. “You need to run as far and as fast as you can. Go as deep as you can in the jungle or wherever you’re heading and give me time to soften Diego’s heart. You say you’re in love with me; I can’t do anything about that. I’ll tell you straight up, though, that it’s never going to happen: me, with a man who peddles flesh and kills innocent women? Never.

  “But I must be as fucked up as you are, Santiago, because despite everything you’ve told me, everything you’ve done, I care about what happens to you. As far as that goes, I must be the gullible person ever born because I still hold out hope that all of this can be worked out with the peace treaty intact. Here’s what I can do: you let me go, you save yourself by going far away, and eventually, yes, we can talk -- as friends. In the meantime, I’ll persuade Diego to back off and let you live your life in parts unknown. The way I see it, whether you live or die should be my call, seeing as how I’m the one in this fucking cage. But I’ll need time to convince Diego.”

  “I’m flattered, Caden, but I don’t need you to rescue me.”

  “You need me a hell of a lot more than you realize. I may be the only thing standing between you and a pine box.”

  Brook

  Every day that goes by is a day Caden is in more danger of being killed or being taken somewhere so far away that she’ll never be found again. It’s also another day she and Santiago are bonding. As crazy as it sounds, it’s a psychological truth that if you’re thrown together with someone against your will and they’re all you have, you’re going to eventually connect with them. Stockholm syndrome, common ground, whatever.

  Diego’s smart enough to recognize that it’s probably already happened and that he’ll need to try to undo it. The thing about emotions, though, is you can’t just undo them. This has quickly gone from being a job to an emotional mess.

  When I found Diego I never envisioned the situation I find myself in. I was thinking ‘go in, kill the enemy and be done with it’. Being cartel means not letting your emotions get involved, but with Caden that’s an impossibility. I haven’t met anyone yet who doesn’t love or hate her with complete unabashed passion. If she dies, it isn’t just Diego who’s losing a best friend, it’s me too. Most of the girls at The Club would feel like they’d lost their mother.

  The ring of the satellite phone jerks my head around. We’ve gathered once again at Tony’s house to map out our next steps. I listen in as Tony takes the call. He doesn’t sound happy.

  “Son of a bitch. I have to admit, I underestimated the guy. I should have known he couldn’t have risen to the top of the ranks by being stupid. Shit… The guy’s got balls… Alright, get the fuck out of there before his men catch on. All I can say is I’m glad I didn’t call in the feds after all. There were just too many variables in play. I would have looked like a damn fool… Yeah, I know… Stay in touch. Let me know if anything changes. And be safe, man.”

  He turns around and the smile on his face kind of baffles me, although I take it to mean no one’s dead—yet.

  “I believe we’ve underestimated our opponent,” he says.

  “What’s going on now?” Diego asks impatiently.

  “The plane was empty. It was a fucking ghost flight. A decoy,” he adds for my benefit.

  “Then where the hell is Caden?” Diego snaps.

  “I don’t know what he’s up to. I learned an important lesson today. I assumed the guy was just a loud mouth bully who pushed his way up the ranks. It never entered my mind he could be this clever.”

  “I specifically remember telling you that,” Diego declares flatly.

  Tony’s raucous laughter fills the air. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him laugh and it lights up his whole face. “Seriously, man, you’re going to do the Ricardo Ramirez thing right now?”

  “Yeah, I am.” Diego rolls his eyes. “The good thing about this is no one got killed taking over the supposed shipment. The bad news is we have no idea where he is or what he’s up to.”

  “I still don’t think he’ll hurt her, guys. I think he’s convinced himself he’s in love with her and he won’t do anything to harm her.”

  “I agree; he won’t kill her,” says Diego. “I’m more worried about him taking her out of the country and us never being able to find her.”

  “Not knowing what
happened to her would be hell. I can’t deal with that shit.” Tony crosses his arms over his chest, looking for all the world like an avenging angel, ready to rain hellfire down on Santiago Sanchez.

  Chapter Fifty Two

  Her Migration

  “Get that shit packed up, people, we’re on a deadline here.” I stand watching the nude women as they put kilos of coke in aerosol cans that have false bottoms that unscrew. It looks like an assembly line that would be in any factory, except that these workers aren’t wearing any clothes. Modesty has proven to be a surprisingly powerful deterrent for escape. I could hold the door wide open and call each of them a cab, and these women would stay put because they don’t want to venture outside naked.

  I laugh to myself when I imagine how Diego must have reacted to that ghost flight. Hit them with the unexpected is the best thing approach in situations like this. The element of surprise is a lethal tool when used correctly.

  I have a lot riding on this move. This is the first time I have everything to lose. I unscrew the small vial I wear on a chain around my neck and dip a tiny spoon of coke out, sniffing it up one nostril and then repeating the process on the other side. Ah, fuck, that’s good. Yes… I do have the best shit.

  “What do want to do about that Foxy lady?” asks one of the guards patrolling the assembly line. He’s been trying to appear vigilant but I think he’s been enjoying his job a little too much. And now he has the nerve to inquire after Caden? I don’t think so.

  Before he ever sees it coming, I pull the pistol from the back of my pants and jab the barrel right between his eyes.

  “Come on, Santiago. Don’t go all ape shit on me, man. It’s just Foxy, everybody knows her.”

  “Have you been in there?” I snarl through gritted teeth.