by Amy McKinley
The boat rocked as they left the harbor. When their speed noticeably increased, she walked back up the couple of steps, unable to sit in the small kitchenette and worry. Soon, Liam would demand the entire story. He had a right. Even so, her mind swirled with how much to share.
She fell onto the bench seat toward the back of the deck. The velocity they were traveling at caused them to slam into waves. The wind tore through her hair, and she regretted leaving her silk scarf below.
“Hold on.” Liam looked at her over his shoulder and frowned. “It’s going to be okay.”
His confident words didn’t quite shake her trepidation. Images of Mateo slicing through a man’s neck ransacked any calm she could possibly attain. She had pushed past the first shocking induction to the violence of their world when she exited Juan Carlos’s boat, but the televised murder brought it back with a vengeance.
Mateo had sliced a man’s throat for helping her down off the boat with a small, inappropriate caress. The only thing that had occurred between her and the now-deceased man was her accepting his offered hand for aid. He had taken that as permission to lean in and whisper suggestively to her while touching her. Whatever he’d said was wasted, as she didn’t speak Spanish. How that warranted his death failed her even now.
And Alex. Oh God. He’d taken what his brother did in stride. There’d been no change in his expression as blood spurted and arced through the air. How had she not noticed that then? The gurgle of death… She’d clung to her husband, but the look he had given her chilled her to the bone. No remorse, only annoyance, and cutting disappointment—in her.
“Liv.” Liam’s sharp tone broke through the loop of misery she’d been lost in. “We have company. You need to go below.”
Her fingers gripped the seat as they crashed against waves, jarring her with their force. The roar of an engine fast approaching prevented her from moving. Even though logic told her it was not Alex, she looked back, shoving her tangled hair out of her face, and scanned the water to see who chased them. A sleek racing boat closed the distance. Two passengers. She could barely make them out, although the driver’s carriage and build looked similar to the man on the harbor.
Liam’s firm voice urged her to get out of sight, but she couldn’t do it, not when he risked his life to help her. She would stay and fight, even the odds. Besides, those men wanted her, and she wasn’t about to hide when they pursued her and Liam.
The boat gained on them. Liam’s flew over the water but couldn’t compete with the power of the lighter speedboat. In no time, they drew alongside.
Liam yelled at her again, but she had to try to reason with the men at the very least. She didn’t think they were supposed to kill her. Plus, Liam’s life depended on it.
“Hold on!” Liam yelled.
She gripped the seat tighter as Liam swerved at the smaller vessel, causing them to adjust their course to avoid being hit. The speedboat slowed, readjusted, then sped up in their wake. The man that wasn’t driving climbed to the very front of the boat. Clinging to the bow, he ordered his partner to get him closer. Again, Liam yelled at her, but she didn’t register his words. Instead, she looked around for anything heavy to throw at the man on the speedboat or swing at his head if he got close enough.
In a crouch, the man waited. In a burst of motion, the speedboat shot to the side of them and forward enough for the man to jump over the side of their boat. He launched himself into the air, straight for her. She ducked, and he tumbled over her onto the floor, but not before a sharp sting struck her bicep. Blood dripped down her arm.
Furious, she rushed to him before he could get up and kicked him in the stomach as hard as she could. Liam gripped her wrist and pulled her away from the man’s grappling hands. She teetered a moment before regaining her footing.
The boat jerked. No one manned the wheel. With Liam busy, that left her. She hurried to take his place. Keeping the boat straight, she looked behind her at the two fighting men.
Her attacker got to his feet, and Liam’s fist cracked into his jaw. As his head jerked back, Liam buried his fist in the assailant’s gut. The man thrust his balled hand up. Before it made contact, Liam grabbed his wrist, used the momentum, and twisted. A scream sliced through the air as the man’s now-useless arm dropped to his side.
Liam shoved the attacker to the floor then jammed his knee into the man’s back. As Liv watched, Liam wrapped an arm around the attacker’s neck and locked his head tightly. With his other hand, Liam wrenched, and the man’s body went limp.
Before the dead man could fully drop to the ground, Liam picked him up and tossed him overboard. The body slammed into the side of the pursuing boat. The driver did nothing to help. Greedy ocean waves grasped the dead man and pulled his prone body beneath the surface.
“Go below,” Liam growled as he whipped off his shirt and wrapped it around Liv’s seeping wound.
With a shake of her head, she pulled herself back onto the seat, her grip firm on the wheel. Breaking eye contact with Liam, she sought the threat chasing them. Her gaze locked with the cold one of the driver. With a sneer, the man turned the boat away. He’s giving up? Her breath came easier, and she moved on unsteady limbs to make way for Liam to take the wheel.
The driver made one last attempt, and the loud pop of gunshots caused Liam to push her to the deck then return fire. Even on the floor, she studied the look in his eyes and the lock of his jaw.
Liam increased their momentum and got them back on course as he steered the boat. “They’ll send someone else or ambush us when we get to port.”
Those men couldn’t have acted on Alex’s order. The attacker had come at her with a knife, his intent to harm or maybe even kill her. So if Alex hadn’t sent him—and she still had trouble believing her husband would go to such extremes—then who?
She rose and gripped the chair next to his. The gun he’d held moments ago was once again stowed in a small compartment under and to the right of the steering wheel. “I’m so sorry. I brought this mess down on us. Please, you have to drop me at the nearest harbor. I’ll make sure I’m seen so they don’t follow you.”
A moment passed while Liam studied her, reading something in her expression. “You’re safer with me. I need information about who’s after you and why. No more withholding, Liv.”
She owed him. She lifted her good arm to shove her hair from her face. The tangled strands whipped behind her, helpless against the unforgiving wind. “It seems my husband is involved in a drug-trafficking organization.” From beneath her shirt, she drew out the butterfly necklace and held it up for his view. “The Ramirez cartel. I left, and now they’re after me.”
He nodded. “Why are they after you?”
“I’m not sure. The only thing I can say is they’re thorough in their pursuit, in the way they gain knowledge. I sold my earrings before I left the port. Remember that video I stopped to see in the restaurant? It was him. They killed him for…well, I don’t exactly understand why. Whether he ratted me out or not doesn’t matter. He paid with his life.”
Her gaze tangled with Liam’s green eyes, and sadness nearly choked her. I hope you aren’t next.
Sun glinted off the water, blinding Liv to the view around her, to life. It moved and flowed, but her awareness became a muted version. The stinging burn on her arm tethered her to reality, to the existence she’d traded on a whim when she ignored her husband’s wishes.
Would things have been different if she’d listened, remained at his mom’s? Would Alex have returned to her, a replica of the man she’d married?
Over and over, the events played in her head as she and Liam rode the water to Maine’s harbor. She’d witnessed the first brutal death, learned of the senseless one. Then there were the potential ones of all who’d helped her and the pending ones when they docked. The beauty of her surroundings contrasted with the ugliness of her train of thought. The image of the recent fight swarmed and competed with the escalating battle she waged with her husband and his me
n. The confrontation looped in her head—the difference in the way she thought Alex would have wanted her handled and the effortless way Liam dealt with the attack.
Death entered her world on a recurring basis, and the crack of their attacker’s arm, his neck, and the final splash as he met a watery grave only amplified it. That was not the end.
Liam had fought before. He was a warrior—one she was glad to have on her side. After the incident on the water, she knew. Her best chance for survival would be with Liam.
Chapter 16
Alex
Dry heat slapped Alex in the face as he exited his father’s home. Mateo leaned against the stucco wall, wearing a smirk, mocking him. Alex fought the urge to clench his fists and keep his emotions in check, something he’d learned to do at a young age with his brother. Mateo wanted to prove Alex’s inability to lead. It would be another way to taunt him, an example to their father of Alex’s worthlessness. His brother would not get the upper hand.
The ground scuffed beneath Mateo’s shoes. Dressed in ill-fitting slacks and a partially buttoned-up shirt, his brother looked like a cheap pimp, unworthy of the assumed, higher position in their family business.
With Alex paving the way Stateside, respect and power within his father’s organization were his for the taking. He had labored long and hard to climb all proverbial ladders, and nothing would take sweet victory from his grasp.
The power play with Mateo wasn’t why he’d come outside. He wanted information from the men who’d returned from searching for his wife.
Five men stood waiting, talking among themselves while their eyes shifted from Mateo to Alex. There had been news. He needed to deal with this situation before all he’d worked so long and hard for imploded.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he widened his stance and glared at the men in silence…waiting. It didn’t take long.
The biggest one in the group, Rodrigo, spoke. “We heard from Pedro. Diego died before they could grab her.” His eyes narrowed, reeking of disrespect. “Your wife travels with another man, one with skills.”
Rage exploded. She could have been hurt. “These men were under your control. Explicit instructions about the mission were given. No incidents were to happen. If you can’t keep them in line, you will be disciplined.”
Rodrigo dropped his gaze to the ground, and the others shifted a hair away. “I understand.”
“Explain what happened.” Alex caught a very brief amused glance between the two men standing next to Rodrigo. They thought him beneath the power of his brother, unimportant to truly follow. Alex lunged and grabbed the closest insubordinate and, with three punishing punches, dropped him to the ground. He demanded obedience, and they would comply. Too much was at stake.
Mateo chuckled, turned, and went inside. Alex’s anger soared to new heights. His brother would not undermine his authority. Dismissing that problem—for now—he focused his attention back on Rodrigo and the others.
Seconds ticked by, and a low growl rumbled in Alex’s chest at the man’s audacity of making him wait. His impatience spurred Rodrigo to talk. His brother would have killed one of the men already, but that wasn’t his way.
“Pedro was forced to turn back to the harbor after Diego jumped onboard your wife’s boat. When he leapt across, his blade nicked her arm. The man helping her, he killed Diego.”
Fury painted Alex’s vision red. “She was injured?” In two steps, Alex stood nose to nose with Rodrigo, knife in hand. “If you heard from Pedro anything other than he’s returning with her, then he failed to do his job.”
Rodrigo quickly raised his hands. “Pedro has his name. We traced the name of the boat and have the location where she’ll go. The man who owns the boat is Liam Savage, and he lives in Maine.”
I’ve heard that name before. Nothing came to mind immediately. Another matter took priority.
“Bring her to me. Unharmed. No one stands in our way.” Alex wiped his hands of the dirt and blood that covered them from pummeling one of the idiots who preferred to follow his brother. Disgusted, he turned for the house, dismissing the bunch of worthless thugs.
If he had gone after Liv himself, none of this would have happened. But to leave his brother alone with his father would have been a bad move. Mateo had his father’s ear, and Alex needed to undo the damage his spiteful sibling sowed.
The cool, dark interior did much for his temperament. Liv. God, what a mistake bringing her turned into. He’d never meant for her to come to his father’s. He had only wanted her to meet his mother. Somehow, he’d thought he could keep her from this world.
Calm settled over him, and he took in everything around him—the machine guns, the wealth, and the rightful prestige of his birth. He should not have to prove himself, as he too came from the same father. With a frown, he took his phone from his pocket and punched in the number of a trusted member in their organization. In clipped words, he outlined what he wanted from David. If he could’ve guaranteed the loyalty of the men his brother had undoubtedly sent to hunt down Liv, he wouldn’t have been in this predicament.
The next steps would happen fast. He understood his father’s thinking, and a group would be set up. The familiar slam of the door behind him stiffened his shoulders. The disappointment and anger he’d experienced would be nothing compared to his father’s. Now things would move quickly.
Soon, he would meet with Mateo’s group that was ordered to swarm Liam’s home. But first, he had to deal with the regiment that had returned to their fold and delivered news of his wife. Plans formulated in his mind on the disciplinary measures he needed to take.
Finally, the time to assume his role had presented itself. Liv had made her choice. Now he must make his. Decision made, he met the cold gaze of his father.
The jeeps bounced over rough roads of dirt and rock, deep in the Colombian jungle. Alex rode in the front with Mateo. Each vehicle carried members of their cartel, all heavily armed. On the floor, between two of their members, sat a chainsaw his crazy brother had brought. Sick dread churned his stomach at what he knew would follow.
Cresting the last of the trees that bore low-hanging leaves, they burst into a clearing. If only Alex’s mother hadn’t told Juan Carlos about him from the outset. Years of exposure to his father’s world, to his brother’s, had changed him, molded his life in ways he wished he’d never experienced and didn’t have to participate in. Now he had to jump in and do what he must, or Liv’s life would be in even greater danger. His father could change his mind about Liv, and Alex knew he wouldn’t like the outcome.
Alex sat in the passenger seat, shedding layers of skin to reveal the monster crouched inside, as they entered the small village by the river. They came to a screeching halt, and Alex jumped out, hitting the ground before Mateo did. With his teeth clenched tight, Alex felt the pressure in his jaw increase to the point of pain. They’d received word that a rival gang had infiltrated their territory. The gang had to be dealt with. Alex had made the decision to make his presence known in the Ramirez cartel. He had to do this. If he didn’t, he would lose ground with his father. Then where would Liv be? What would happen to her?
Mateo smirked. “You’re out of your element, City Boy.”
Clicking the safety off his gun, Alex refused to rise to his half brother’s bait. Knife in one hand, gun in the other, he fell in line with Mateo as they moved through the village strategically located next to one of their exit points for shipping up the river.
Behind them, some twenty-odd members of their cartel followed.
“Find them,” Mateo shouted to their crew. “Let’s make an example.”
Men, women, and children scurried inside huts, some crying and some begging. A few stood their ground. They weren’t who the Ramirezes were there for, and those who stayed within sight were well-known supporters of the Ramirez cartel.
The villagers around the bend saw another opportunity—a detrimental one.
The acrid scent of betrayal and fear permeated the a
ir. Dusk kicked up around the villagers’ hurried feet. Gunshots rained all around them. Alex grabbed two people from a hut and dragged them to the center of the road, where a younger member of his organization, probably about eighteen, stood with his gun pointed at the villagers who opposed them.
Tears fell, foul words were silenced, and the pile of disloyal villagers grew. Mateo broke apart from the others, meandering over to the group as Alex herded another supporter of their closest rival to the group. Why they’d turned didn’t concern him. Standing alongside his brother and securing his presence and position in the eyes of their people mattered.
Mateo flipped a switch, and the metallic whirl of the chainsaw rose over begging and sobs. The rival supporters were already dead; their deaths marked the moment they had made a deal with adversaries of the Ramirezes. Alex and his men would execute the deathblow—some quicker than others.
Alex motioned for Rodrigo to retrieve the garbage bags from the jeep. Alex walked to the quivering group in the street, opposite where his brother stood. He would deliver mercy as quickly as he could, before the excruciating pain of the chainsaw cut like butter, elongating the people’s suffering.
Moving fast, Alex swung, severing the flesh of a man’s neck. Blood spurted and poured over the front of his dusty clothes.
The grind of the chainsaw motor stopped. “Alex! What the fuck are you doing?”
Widening his stance, Alex faced Mateo with blood dripping off his knife. “The point is to send a message. Torture won’t make a difference.”