Broken Circle

by Amy McKinley

  “You’re a rookie. No wonder no one follows you.” Mateo spit on the ground and slapped a hand against his chest. “They follow me.”

  “Fuckin’ crazy is what you are.” White-hot rage pulsed in his veins. Rather than give in to the urge to cut Mateo, he bent to his task, doing it his way. Following Mateo’s example of senseless torture wasn’t what his father had done all those years ago. Brutal and agonizing disfigurement was not his father’s, nor his, way. Soon, his father would see that Alex was the way of the future, not his crazy-ass fool brother and his adrenaline-junkie shitheads.

  With quick and powerful movements, Alex took care of ending the lives of those he could before Mateo could reach them. He didn’t ease all of their suffering.

  Screams filled the air, echoing through the village. Anguished cries festered in horror from those who lived, including himself. Arms and legs were sliced through with the chainsaw. The streets ran with blood. Rodrigo picked up the severed limbs and shoved them into one of the garbage bags.

  “Take some of the bags and dump the body parts along the east boarder,” Alex ordered Rodrigo and the others helping him. “Do a drive-by to our rival’s closest village and drop the rest of the bags there.”

  The coppery scent of blood filled the air. So did Mateo’s laughter.

  Sick fuck.

  Alex pulled the small, hard plastic container from his pocket and poured acid over as many of the dead people’s faces as he could. Mateo finished up the rest. That horrific practice would change when he led. Blood splattered Alex’s clothes, but Mateo was soaked in it, his skin red from the amount spilled.

  It didn’t take long to finish their job.

  Chapter 17

  Seagulls circled overhead as the motion of the boat slowed. Some semblance of sense slid into her mind as to why Alex didn’t want children. Even though they were married, that didn’t necessarily mean she had to become involved with his family. But a baby tied them all together with grandparents and uncles. At some point, she and Alex wouldn’t have been able to stop their child from being exposed to that world.

  Liv sat quietly, reflecting and rejecting parts of who she used to be. There would be times when sadness would overthrow her resolve, but no matter what, she was prepared to fight—for her life, for those who helped her, and for her freedom.

  The quaint beauty of Maine’s Down East Port wasn’t lost on Liv, and the artist in her stirred. It had been too long since she had created, and her soul screamed for release. The dark world she presently resided in sucked too much from her, and her fingers curled at the thought of sketching and manipulating clay. She longed for some normalcy.

  Liam lined up the boat with one of the docking ports. With her artist’s instincts taking over, she studied him. His powerful shoulders moved with ease, the tense bunching now relaxed. The muscles in his back rippled beneath the thin gray cotton of his T-shirt. Her focus whipped to his face as he glanced at her over his shoulder, and his mouth pulled into a sexy lopsided grin that made her laugh.

  Feeling lighter, she tore her gaze away and took in the small harbor. Docks stretched far into the blue water, and a pretty inlet looked to have access out as well. At least she was feeling better and hadn’t taken any more of the pain pills. Things looked brighter, at least for the moment.

  Liam maneuvered the boat alongside the dock, and her heart skipped a beat. The thought of exposure worried her. Cartels were not exactly a part of her life, and since Alex had refrained from bringing his work home with him, her knowledge was sadly lacking. She should have taken a greater interest in what he was working on, what he did. If the day came that she entered into another relationship, she would not make the same mistake of staying in the dark.

  The fact that she and Liam had encountered someone connected to the Ramirez cartel in the last port shocked her. How far did Juan Carlos’s operation reach?

  Liv removed the silk scarf from her head and shoved it in her purse. Too many people from Alex’s dad’s cartel had seen her in it. Instead, she gathered her hair into a high ponytail, something she rarely wore, and twisted a band around it to hold her long strands in place. As Liam jumped off the boat onto the deck to tie it, she went below and slipped on one of the outfits she’d purchased when they stopped to eat. The tan shorts and breezy shirt looked sweet and gave her the illusion of being carefree.

  After changing, she shoved her meager belongings into the shopping bag and went up to the deck. Liam stood a few feet away and spoke with some of the fishermen. Their quiet voices were impossible for her to hear, despite how much she strained to do so.

  Liam noticed her right away, broke apart from the other men, and moved to assist her down.

  “Oh, wait.” The twinge in her abdomen as she twisted bothered her mentally rather than physically. “I forgot my purse and sunglasses.” More than anything, she wanted to be able to take the time to mourn the loss of her baby, the betrayal of her husband, and the confusion and hurt those things had caused. Despite all that had happened, a part of her would always love Alex and the sense of freedom he’d given her. If only she could shut her emotions off.

  The small thread of hope that Alex was working undercover had snapped with their last communication. She had to let him go, no matter how difficult it was. That decision had taken root the moment she snuck out of her hospital room.

  She had time to think now that her head was clear, no longer weighed down by pain and fear while traveling alone. One thing still nagged. Who had been on that landing with her at Juan Carlos’s estate? Through the whirlwind of the past few days, the worry of who had pushed her down the stairs and murdered her baby kept resurfacing. Because someone had.

  With her belongings in hand, she went back to where Liam waited. He reached up, and she grasped his extended hand to disembark. Shaky from the sway of the boat, her foot caught on the low rail. Liam’s arm wrapped around her waist and steadied her. Unnerved from the fright of falling and the memory it gave strength to, she gripped Liam tighter. But this was not that moment. Feeling safe, she put her hand flat against his chest and gently pushed. He released her instantly.

  All her life, people had wanted her to be someone else. When Alex had given her wings, she’d fallen even harder for him. Now she needed to use them to stay safe, to remain just out of range of her husband and what he was a part of. Because she had very little faith after the recent events that he was innocent.

  To regain her mental footing, she turned to observe the coastline. In quaint beauty, shops and restaurants lined the busy harbor. Even with the large number of people coming and going, the small town appealed to her. She took a step, but Liam’s large hand on her arm stopped her with a gentle tug.

  “I need to unload a few things from the boat. My truck isn’t far.” At her nod, he continued, his hand still touching her arm. “Do you want to wait in the coffee shop before we head out? I won’t be too long.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “All right, I’ll show you where my truck is.”

  She loved to listen to his Irish lilt. “Have you always lived here?”

  “No.” He waved to an older woman coming out of a store. “I was in the military, and that took me all over the place. I’m not exactly active duty right now, and it’s nice being back home.”

  “Can’t say I blame you. It’s beautiful here.” Liv pushed the large sunglasses farther up the bridge of her nose. One hand gripped her purse, and the other found its way into Liam’s reassuring grip. He made her feel safe. She wanted to wrap herself in that safety and hibernate for a while.

  A short distance from the dock, he pointed out a black F-150 truck. With a beep of his key fob, he unlocked the cab. She climbed inside and took the keys from his offered hand.

  “I’ll be about fifteen minutes. You all right?”

  She nodded, not quite trusting her voice. In reality, she wasn’t, far from it. She needed answers to too many questions. The one burning a hole in her mind—why did the cartel wa
nt her so badly?

  Liv clasped her hands in her lap. A loud bang rocked the truck and made her jump. She turned while aftershocks shook the vehicle and caught Liam’s wink.

  “Sorry, should have warned you.” Muscles bulging, he lowered the other crate that rested atop his shoulder with less impact to where she sat.

  A group of women walking along the sidewalk drew her attention, and she laughed. They didn’t spare her a glance; their attention focused solely on an awe-inspiring Liam.

  He held up his index finger. “Give me another minute.”

  “Sure.” Instead of going in the direction of his boat, he headed toward the rows of shops. Liv tracked his movements until she lost him around the corner. Ten minutes ticked by, and her stomach rolled and knotted. Her gaze fixated on where she’d seen him disappear. When he finally rounded the building, two very full grocery bags hung from his hands. She sagged against the seat, irrationally worried for his safety, which was foolish, as she’d seen him in action.

  He opened the driver’s-side door and set the bags between them. “We wouldn’t have had any milk or eggs. I picked up a few other things too, not sure about what you like. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want while we’re here?”

  “Coffee and creamer?”

  “That’s part of the survival supplies I grabbed.”

  “Thank God we think alike. That’s about all I need right now.” Supplies to sculpt. She would have to wait until she returned home for that, if she ever did. The only other thing she thought of was her freedom. Even though she longed to stroll through the shops and sit by the coast with a coffee, she did not dare. The more people that got a look at her, the greater the danger all of them were in.

  Liam drove along a winding road. As the miles passed by, her curiosity got the better of her. “Where exactly are we going? You mentioned something about a farm?”

  He chuckled. “I was wondering when you would ask. We grow wild blueberries and hybrid grapes. The land and business have been in my family for longer than I can remember.”

  More people. Her heart dropped. “Will there be anyone else there?”

  His attention stayed on the narrow road. “Not in the house, at least not until Friday. Lucy comes once a week to clean. I have a crew that works the land and another to help with manufacturing and shipping, but it’s relatively quiet.”

  “With your accent, I assumed your family came from Ireland.”

  A wide smile curved his face. “That would be my mom. My dad’s side has owned this land for generations. When my mom met him, she was fresh off the boat.”

  “Why the accent then if you were raised here?”

  “Eh, I think it’s mainly from being around her and all the times her family would visit. We’d go there too when we could.”

  She smiled at how happy he sounded. “It must have been nice.”

  He laughed. “We’re a loud bunch when we’re together. There was always someone getting in trouble or a party going on. Now it’s pretty quiet. I do miss having more people around.”

  “But you have all those people who work for you.”

  “Different, though.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it would be.” With so many people there working, the appeal of staying on his farm diminished. At least the house would be empty. “You mentioned a cabin?”

  “Yes. It’s small and not too far from the main house, in the wooded area. It used to be for the crew leader. I use it for guests now. You’re welcome to it if you like.” His focus left the road for a moment and landed on her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea with what happened on the water. I’d prefer you were closer, and I can protect you better if you’re under the same roof.”

  There would be no arguing. She feared what could happen if, or when, the cartel found her. Worry for his life weighed on her conscience. “I don’t want to bring trouble to your door.” Even though I already have.

  His expression remained the same, as did his response. “That doesn’t concern me, and I don’t want you worrying about your safety. There are lots of empty rooms, and you’ll have enough space to give you the illusion of a private residence.”

  What could she say to that? While she planned to fight with all she had, she lacked the necessary skills. Those, she would need to learn. Until then… “Okay. Thank you.”

  The truck bumped over a rough road and around another curve. Rows and rows of wild blueberry bushes sprang into view as far as she could see. They rounded the next bend and drove beneath a large sign that looked to be the entrance to a farm. What had it said? She twisted in her seat and looked out the back. Seas Farms? No, it couldn’t be. A memory of Alex’s gift to her flashed in her mind—a case of her favorite cabernet from Savage Seas Winery.

  Chapter 18

  Liv opened her mouth to ask Liam about the name of his farm, but her words faded away as his home came into view. A sprawling, white two-story Victorian soared with a wraparound porch and the backdrop of the ocean. Magnificent. In every direction, she glimpsed rolling hills, lines of crops, and a grove of trees to the left. Behind all of that stretched miles of water. How she longed to sit outside and sketch.

  When they stopped, she pushed open her door, climbed down from the truck’s cabin, and fell into step with Liam. The grocery bags were looped over each of his hands, and he lifted one to point out where the blueberries and grapes were grown. Liv walked beside him to the front door, her attention drawn more than once to the sight of the shimmering blue water.

  The click of the lock and rush of air as Liam opened the door pulled her focus back to the house. She stepped over the threshold and again sucked in a breath at the beauty around her. Hardwood floors gleamed, and sunlight streamed through large windows.

  Liam shut the door behind them and headed inside and to the left. “Go ahead and look around while I put these away.” He lifted the groceries higher. “I need to unload my truck too, so take your time.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks, but do you want me to wait until you get back in?”

  “Nope. Have at it.”

  Unwilling to set her purse down, she went from room to room with it over her shoulder. She moved from the entryway, with its antique chandelier, to a family room that urged her to sink into a welcoming and stylish sectional or relax on a stationary armchair with ottoman—her favorite. An enticing fireplace in the corner offered the promise of cozy evenings on chilly nights. This room drew her like none other. Windows soared and depicted a view of the bluff and miles of ocean.

  With difficulty, she tore herself from the family room to stroll into the dining room. Her breath caught at the oversized natural-wood table. Trailing her fingers over the polished surface, her gaze darted to oil paintings of scenes around Europe.

  Room after room offered comfort and beauty. Her mother would have both loved and hated it. Liv adored every nook and cranny she came across. The atmosphere of the home, the landscape, and Liam’s protective presence worked to ease the sadness festering inside her.

  After going through the main rooms, she walked to a set of French doors that led to a patio out back. She turned the lock, pushed them open, and stepped outside onto gorgeous slate. A wrought iron table and chairs with fluffy pillows took up one corner. Two outdoor lounge chairs set near the rear of the patio, facing the bluff, drew her in. She passed by a built-in grill on the left before lowering herself to one of the loungers and dropping her purse on the ground between them. In front of her, a gas fire pit waited for use.

  Any time of day or night, this back area would have been heaven. Her head rested on the raised back of the lounge chair, the waves lulled her, and she let her eyes drift shut for a few moments.

  A whoosh cut through the silence and startled her awake with an involuntary gasp. Flames climbed the air from the now-lit fire pit before her.

  Liam lowered himself onto the seat next to her, two beers in his hands. He set them on the small table in between them, a good enough distance from the warm fire. “I didn’t mean to
wake you. As the sun goes down, it gets a little chilly.”

  She stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles. Then she pulled herself into more of a sitting position, too relaxed to even think of getting up. The fire he’d lit offered the perfect amount of heat and light in the approaching evening.

  “I started the grill up a few minutes ago. I hope you like burgers.”

  She smiled. He was too sweet. “Of course. What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. They’ll be ready soon.” He popped open the beers and handed her one. “This okay?”

  “It’s great. Thanks.” She would have preferred wine, but there was no need to be rude. Instead, she took a swig from the bottle and noticed a plate of fresh veggies when she went to put it down. She took a few cucumbers and nibbled on them, racking her brain for something to talk about. “Are you the only one in your family that runs the farm?”

  Liam settled back with a handful of carrots and a cup of dip. “Yes. It’s pretty much mine now. My parents spent a lifetime here, raising me and my sister and taking care of the day-to-day operations. Now they get to travel the world when the whim hits.”

  “So they still live here?”

  At her raised brow, he elaborated. “My sister is married and lives in Ireland. She and her husband have two little rug rats, and my parents find it difficult to be far from them. So they plan a few trips a year and purchased a townhome nearby.”

  “Don’t you miss them?”

  “I do. We get together as often as we can, definitely for Christmas.”

  “Do you enjoy running the farm?”

  “Yes. While it’s a lot of work, or it was before I hired the right managers, there’s enough freedom to keep me happy.” He grew quiet for a moment, gazing at the water before he spoke again. “Are you ready to tell me about why a drug cartel is after you?”