Quiet Chaos : The Chaos Series- Book #2

by Keta Kendric

  I glared at him, waiting but not offering a reply. A deep sigh breezed past his lips as he took another long assessing look at my attire before his gaze lifted to mine. My tan wide-legged slacks sported dirt spots and smears and my burgundy silk blouse was just as dirty with a few small rips in various spots.

  “There are some things you need to know.” Another deep inhale sounded, the action inflating his chest. “Shit,” he exhaled. “I shouldn’t be telling you this because Silvia would kill me if she knew.”

  He had my full attention at the mention of Silvia’s name. Was she the one that wanted me dead, and he was having reservations about it? What could be so stressful to tell me that Corvel was afraid to speak on it for fear of being killed by Silvia Cardenas?

  “Did the cartel put a hit out on me? I was ambushed on the highway on my way here and lost a guard to the men who were shooting to kill, not capture.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened to you. I received word of it a few minutes before you arrived.”

  HB was cocked and aimed at him before I was up and off the couch. The sound of metal clinking behind me spoke for the situation my automatic reflex action had just put me in.

  “You had guys watching me? Sent them to kill me? I had convinced myself it was a setup, someone trying to turn me against you.”

  “Mecca, please, put the gun away.”

  His hands were lifted, gesturing in a calm manner for me to lower the gun.

  “Are you actually suggesting I put my gun away so you can accomplish your task of killing me? Why did you let me keep it in the first place if you’re planning to get rid of me?”

  The men advanced, forcing me to turn and aim at them as my gun swept left to right between the two.

  “Stay the fuck back!” I yelled.

  “Mecca, listen, please.” Corvel had switched to Spanish.

  Cautious steps took me backwards until the only full wall was at my back, and I had a view of all three men. Corvel stood with his hands in a pleading position, begging me to put my gun down. He aimed his voice at the two guards who were prepared to send me to hell.

  “Men, lower your weapons. Mrs. Vallin and I need to have a serious discussion.”

  The men stupidly lowered their weapons, but I wasn’t lowering mine. If it was my time to die, some fucking body was coming with me.

  “Mecca, please.”

  “Please what? You sent someone to kill me, and you expect me to listen to what you have to say?”

  “Did we have someone watching you? Yes. But, I can assure you, we had nothing to do with yours or your husband’s ambush, or the set up with the Haitians.”

  I laughed. “And you happen to know about all three events off a lucky guess? Do I look like Willy fucking foo-foo? Someone is trying to kill me, and you expect me to let it happen without fighting?”

  “Put the gun away so we can talk this out without all this tension. You have known me since you were a young girl. You, of all people, should know that if the cartel or I wanted you dead, you would be. There wouldn’t be a trace of you left to be found.”

  He had a good point and the statement caused one of my brows to lift. No matter how badass I thought I was, if they wanted me dead, I probably would be.

  I lowered my weapon but didn’t tuck it away, settling for aiming it at the floor. The action lowered the heightened tension in the air, but we all remained amped as our harsh breaths livened up the space. Corvel lifted his phone to show me that it wasn’t a gun.

  “I’m going to make a phone call. We can’t afford to let another incident like this happen. We especially can’t afford to call attention to ourselves by having public shootouts and ambushes.

  “Hello,” he said into the phone, his face set in anger. “You need to get over here now. This has gone too damn far. You tell her today, or I will.” He clicked off and set his strained gaze on me.

  “Now, we wait. Have a seat. Please.”

  I shook my head. I was not about to sit down. HB and I were fine standing where we were and waiting, for what, I could only imagine was my maker.

  Had Corvel called his death squad?

  36

  Mecca

  My leg muscles jumped as my nerves grated across each other, chipping off more of my anger so that my mind could bring in clearer thoughts. I’d finally decided to take the seat Corvel had offered after he had gotten up and fixed himself a second drink. The guards appeared bored out of their minds, not paying me any attention anymore.

  Had I just drawn a weapon on the number two man in one of the deadliest cartels in the country? There was no coming back from an action like that, and he was more than likely considering how I would die.

  A deep squint furrowed my forehead when I realized that Corvel had only appeared upset when he was on the phone. He was too cool as he continued to take sips from his drink, swirling it around the glass as he relaxed into his expensive couch. What the hell were we waiting for?

  When the rotors of a helicopter sounded fifteen tense minutes later, I prayed it was one of the workers watching television. However, the sound was distinct and hard to mistake for anything else.

  Who had he called? Was it his kill specialists, the ones that did high-level murders for him? Were they going to torture me first?

  It had taken a while to soak in that the Black Saints, the Vallin name, and the syndicate made me a triple threat and a high-value target. Therefore, taking me out would be a top-level order to be carried out by the organization’s best.

  The bold actions I had taken with Corvel was punishable by death, but they didn’t need to bring in anyone special on my account. One or two to the head was perfectly fine with me as I preferred to have my lights turned out quickly so I didn’t have to sit and agonize over the things I would have done differently. I didn’t want to wait in my misery and wish for more time with Arjen or pray to see Desiree one last time.

  “Who is that?” I aimed a finger at the ceiling as it sounded like the helicopter was lifting off after dropping its passenger.

  “Silvia Cardenas,” Corvel answered nonchalantly like he hadn’t just revealed to me that he had conjured up the devil. “She needs to talk with you before we proceed.”

  Silvia showed up for one thing, and I was sure she wasn’t coming to talk. Now, I knew without a sliver of doubt that I was deader than a motherfucker. Silvia was called the Death Whisperer, and my death would be the most horrific shit known to man.

  Although my insides were churning like a windmill, I sat as poised as Corvel. I rarely allowed fear to creep into my bones, but it was hard not to wrap your arms around the emotion when the mother of death had arrived by helicopter in response to something I had done.

  The click of her heels echoed throughout the house, the sound appearing to rattle the rooms the closer she got. The first thing I saw was the white of her expensive suit.

  The woman wore elegance like it was a part of her essence. Her hair was swept up in a curly up-do, supported by small diamond-studded accessories. Her caramel complexion glowed with a bronzed tint. Her features hinted that her ancestors were not only Hispanic, but possibly Native-American and African-American because she seemed a perfect blend of all three.

  Corvel stood, so I did the same with HB gripped tight in my hand. When Silvia and Corvel walked towards each other, and he drew her into a big bear hug that lifted her off her feet, I didn’t know what to think. He placed a tender kiss on each of her cheeks that she returned.

  “I missed you, brother,” she said in Spanish.

  Brother?

  Corvel was her brother? My eyes widened at the knowledge while I stared in slack-jawed awe.

  Once they stepped away from each other, the resemblance became obvious. She stood in place beside her brother, appraising me. She didn’t appear upset that I was standing there with a gun in my hand.

  I suppose she could afford to be unbothered, being who she was. There were probably ten snipers with weapons aimed at me from every point that
had the maximum effective range to blow me straight to Kingdom Come.

  “I hear you have been stirring up a lot of trouble, young lady. Why would you do something as foolish as pull a gun on the hands that feed you, and the one person standing between you and me?”

  “Because two people have died at my hands, naming this cartel as targeting me for death. Another confirmed that this cartel hired him to watch me. I’m worth more to you alive, so I came here to find out why you want me dead?”

  A hard swallow help dislodge my words that were flowing from my brain faster than I could spit them out.

  “Mr. Corvel confirmed that he knew about mine and my husband’s ambushes. I demanded to know why you wanted me dead. He wouldn’t tell me. The next thing I knew, we were sitting here waiting for you.”

  She glared at Corvel like she wanted to kill him more than me. She turned in his direction, and they went off on a tangent in Spanish, full-on fussing. This was an unexpected turn as neither of them had ever lost control, especially not in front of people.

  He mentioned being the middleman. What was he in the middle of? This situation was starting to take a weird fucking turn. Was Corvel planning to tell her that I spoke Spanish, or did he want me to hear their conversation?

  When she turned away from Corvel to face me this time, the anger on her face was apparent.

  “Mecca, we need to have a serious talk.”

  “Ma’am, I have all the respect for you in the world, but if you want me dead, can we not prolong it? All I ask is that you leave my husband, his people, and the Black Saints out of this. I acted alone and take full responsibility for my actions.”

  She stood, smiling, the sight heightening my confusion.

  “Spoken like a true leader. Mecca…”

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  The sound of gunfire drew our attention. Silvia remained calm, even under attack, casting a backward glance at her brother. She wasn’t worried about a thing. However, the sound terrified me because it was more than likely Arjen and whatever army he had following him. He knew better than to come at a cartel, and in order for him to react this fast, he was doing it without the backing of the syndicate.

  If Silvia Cardenas didn’t kill me, Corvel would since I had led my husband, guns blazing, to his sacred grounds. I must have missed a tracker or my husband had found another way to track me down. The strong look Silvia had cast at Corvel, remained aimed at him.

  “Will you get this under control with minimum loss of life?”

  Corvel went towards the front door and walked out like there wasn’t gunfire going off. I knew he was high and mighty because of who he was, but he wasn’t bulletproof.

  “Have a seat, please.”

  Although Silvia had said please, her words were an order that she expected to be followed.

  I sat, gripping my legs at the knees to keep them from jumping. Arjen was my only concern. It’s funny, I used to curse at the sight of men, now I would do anything for that fearless one outside Corvel’s compound, risking it all to come for me.

  Silvia took the seat beside me which caused me to glance at HB, still gripped tight in my hand. I threw serious eyes in her direction. Why would she risk herself like this? She didn’t appear the least bit worried about me sitting there with a gun. What if I attempted to kill her?

  She kept staring at me with her eyes deadlocked on my face. The longer she stared, the more the tension in her forehead pulled tighter. What the hell? Why the fuck was she staring at me like that?

  “Why do you keep staring at me? I know my actions were stupid. I leap before I look sometimes. I take unnecessary risks with my life, and I’m aware that this time was one time too many.”

  “You’re fearless, aren’t you?” She appeared to be fascinated by my craziness. “You…” her cell phone stopped whatever she was about to say.

  Corvel’s yelling came through her phone, although it was at her ear. The rumble of gunfire had caused my nerves to blaze higher.

  I prayed for a way to tell Arjen to fall back, that he couldn’t save me, not this time. In my heart, I knew that it would be useless. He wasn’t going to stop. We had nurtured a bond that had allowed our souls to connect. If it were me out there and him in here, I wouldn’t stop. I would rescue him or die trying.

  “You think that’s the only way to get them to stop?” She kept her stare pinned on me, not removing it as she hung up the phone and gripped it tight in her hand.

  “I need you to go out and convince your husband to stop this unwarranted attack. He is hell-bent on getting a lot of people killed.”

  Unwarranted?

  I shook my head.

  “No. I’d rather him take his chances fighting than attempting to negotiate with you for my life. We both know I’m already dead.”

  “I can assure you, Mecca, I’m not here to kill you, but if you don’t go out there and bring your husband into this house, he will die. I’m sure the syndicate doesn’t know he’s here, so if he dies here, we will make sure they never find out what happened. All I need to do is make one call and give a few orders.”

  She lifted her phone, her face set in stone.

  With tightly pinched lips, I rolled my eyes at her phone and lifted my chin. I had more faith in my husband than in her phone calls.

  “Mecca. Please.” A hint of stress marred her forehead. “I’m giving you my word. I’m not here to kill you. I didn’t come here for any bloodshed.”

  She pointed at my gun. “Why do you think you’re still armed? Do you see a gun anywhere on me?” She stood to her feet before spinning around to show me she wasn’t carrying.

  I stared into the depths of her daring eyes. She may not have been carrying a gun, but she looked like she could kill me with one flick of her eyebrow.

  How could such a beautiful woman be so deadly? She appeared to be in her late thirties, but television and magazine interviews often published her age of fifty-three.

  Done with our stare-off, I turned away and headed for the door, waiting for the moment the impact of the bullet would punch through and enter my body. When I made it to the door, I shoved HB down the back of my waistband and glanced back at Silvia before shoving it open. She stared after me, her expression an unreadable one.

  When I stepped onto the porch, all firing ceased. Thanks to the magical eyes of high-powered lenses, Arjen’s men must have spotted me right away. I took the few steps down into the paved driveway with my hands lifted.

  The first sign of movement coming from the tree line was Arjen. He was taking the same walk I had when I went to get Tash from the Haitians. He appeared to have been in training with a bunch of navy seals wearing black tactical gear from head to toe.

  He was walking through the valley of death where any flick of a finger could have ended his life. Corvel’s men were spread out everywhere, some prone on the ground, atop the buildings, and some even in the trees. The thick tension of the situation had me sucking in quick breaths and my heart beating so hard it vibrated my whole body.

  An automatic weapon was strapped to the front of Arjen’s chest, aimed down, but his hand was poised to lift and shoot if he had to. We were meeting at the far end of the driveway with the front door to our backs.

  Arjen stopped a few feet in front of me. His eyes scanning, checking for injuries.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Not yet,” I replied.

  I couldn’t accuse him of not taking our marriage vows seriously because death was most assuredly about to cause us to part. We stood facing each other in a land mine of charged weapons.

  “I’m so sorry, Arjen. I fucked up. I should have waited on that highway like you asked me to.”

  He reached out and cupped my cheek.

  “At least I get to see you, touch you. To tell you how I feel about you.”

  He swallowed, edging closer so that our bodies touched. Our eyes were deadlocked on each other’s and every emotion we’d attempted to suppress through our relationship was released in th
e exchange.

  “You want to know why I started calling you Love?”

  I nodded, my emotions and my ravaged nerves had rendered me speechless.

  “The day of our wedding, when I first unveiled you, the first word to pop into my head was, lovely. The rest of that night, each time I turned away and put you back in my sights, all I kept thinking was how lovely you were. So, when I addressed you, your name got replaced with that word. It was me slipping and calling you what I was thinking, so when I said it and tried to stop myself, it came out, love.”

  My damn tear ducts were wide open today as tears stung my eyes, filling them with water.

  “Arjen,” I attempted to speak past the lump in my throat. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I fell into his arms after he swiveled his weapon so that it was at his back. I gripped him around the neck with all the strength I had as my body melded into the front of his.

  “I stopped seeing you with my eyes a long time ago,” he whispered into my ear. “I see you with my heart now. I love you, Mecca.” His words had ripped my emotions wide open and his tight embraced was all that held me together.

  For the first time, I didn’t care about a tear slipping down my cheek. “I love you too, so much,” I whispered against his neck. He eased us apart, swiping a delicate thumb through a runaway tear before our lips met.

  He drew me in so tightly I could hardly breathe. The depth of his affection radiated and sank deep, breathing life into the connection that had revealed itself to us the day we met. His lips were at my ears again.

  “I’m angry at you, wife. How could you go riding off into the jaws of death without taking me along with you? How could you leave me, knowing I would raise hell to find you? How could you, Mecca, when you should know by now that I love you more than any damn thing in this Godforsaken world?”

  I eased back and stared at him, but he pulled me back in, his arms encircling and locking me in his hold. His words had touched me down to my very soul, giving me a spiritual caress that warmed my body. His voice broke me out of the joyful trance he had induced.