Blind Justice

by TL Reeve

  Enzo rested his elbows on the countertop. “So then explain why you hide it.” Duncan didn’t like the pensive look in the younger man’s eyes. It caused his gut to twist. There was a risk behind being so open and honest. He could lose them both. They needed to be assured they were protected and not in any risk of dying.

  “I’m not an FBI agent.” When neither of them reacted or said anything, he continued, “I mean I am, but I’m not. I do FBI work like Thomas, I have a badge, yet most of the people in the agency—except for Thomas and a few agents who’ve taken the time to get to know me—wouldn’t trust me as far as they could throw me.” He touched his chest and tried to bring some humor to the situation. “And I’m a big guy, so we both know I’m not going very far.”

  Enzo frowned, tilting his head. “Why do you stay then?”

  “Choices I made at sixteen then again at eighteen took away my right to leave. I’m technically on loan to the FBI from the Scotland Yard for a service. If I had to guess, me da did it. Got me here. But, I can’t prove anything.” His da had his hand in every pie. He also wasn’t above bribery.

  Enzo whistled. “Who’s your pops? He’s got to be someone pretty powerful to have enough influence to send you here.”

  “My da is IRA. More specifically, he’s Chief of Staff of the IRA.” He could see from the blank stares of the siblings they had no clue what that even meant. In an effort to avoid explaining hundreds of years of history, he instead went with a position they’d understand. “He’s a Boss.”

  “Like Raul?” Bella asked.

  Duncan pffted. “Yes and no. If Raul was head of all the cartels in South America, then yeah, I guess he’d be like Raul.” He saw a flicker of understanding in both of their eyes, so he pressed on. “My da…he controls the entire IRA. Everything, and I mean every order, every decision comes from his desk and is filtered down.”

  Nothing was done without his da’s input. If someone decided to use free will or the brain God gave them and do something without prior approval, then chances were high they’d find themselves killed and put on display as a reminder not to cross the Boss.

  “But why would the FBI want you?” Bella asked.

  He laughed. “Funny thing about organized crime, no matter the players or country they hail from. They’re all pretty much driven by the same desires and needs. Control and power. I have a wealth of knowledge on how they work and can offer insight.” He shrugged. “I can walk the walk and play the part because it’s who and what I was. So, why wouldn’t the FBI want to dig their claws in and use me? I learned at my father’s knee, and I’d been good…fucking spectacular. At sixteen they were saying I was my father’s next successor. Understand, my da’s position—it isn’t one of natural inheritance. It’s a position anyone can earn.”

  “Earn?” Bella quirked a brow. “How?”

  “Blood mostly. Some retire, and a vote is taken to install the next leader. I was on track to take over for my da when he either retired or died, whichever came first.” Although Duncan was pretty sure his da would outlive them all.

  “Not anymore,” Bella stated.

  “No. Not anymore. My da used his power and made sure I didn’t rot in jail for life. Coming to America took me out of running for his position. At the end of my term, I’m free. I can go where I want. Hell, I could even go back home if I so desired, but I wouldn’t be welcomed or offered any position within the IRA. I’m a liability, exposed to American ideals and under the influence of an enforcement agency. Also, I wouldn’t find hospitality there. I’m a turncoat.” Duncan left out the part about how his father still looked to him to provide intel on other organizations. It was something he’d done willingly in the beginning, because he was hesitant to sever his last bit of blood connection.

  “This is why you’ve been able to relate to our situation. You’ve been where we are,” Bella said, relief flooding her voice.

  Duncan nodded. “It’s not easy to turn your back on your way of life or your family. No matter how fecking shitty it is.”

  Enzo put his arm around Bella. “We’ve got each other though. You’ve had no one to lean on or look to for help.”

  Duncan shrugged. “I had Thomas. He’s a good guy, even if he’s a die-hard agent. He has always treated me with respect and wanted my input and help.” He chuckled. “And he knows my history. Good, bad, and ugly. He’s someone I trust.”

  “Then so do we,” Enzo assured.

  How had these two survived in the Cartel? They didn’t know him from shit. In his world, and he knew in theirs too, believing in the wrong person could get them and anyone they held dear killed. Yet, after a night in his bed, these two were so willing to trust him. In his mind, he wasn’t worthy of that faith. Maybe he was missing something?

  Bella looked up at him, her gaze locking with his. “How long do you have left?”

  He could lie, but why bother? Right now, this relationship, even if he wanted more, could never happen. It just wasn’t feasible. One week he was in Mexico for a month, the next he was sitting in Virginia playing footsie with R.O.O.T., and the following he could be doing a six-month stint out in Cali. Not to mention he dealt with the most fucked up people in the world. A life with him would be fraught with issues and risks. “Ten more years. I won’t get an early release for good behavior either.” He gave a humorless laugh. He’d already tried at about fifteen years into his service. He was given a resounding no from all parties. “The FBI and the Yard have been clear. The only way for me to get an early release is death.” He gave Bella a flirtatious wink. “I’m not ready to die yet.”

  Bella brushed her fingertips together over the plate. “So, you haven’t seen or spoken to your family in twenty years?”

  Seen, no, spoken to, yes. But again, he wouldn’t admit it. He’d learned that if he was going to break rules or go behind the authorities’ back, he needed to keep the information to himself. “No. I haven’t.”

  “You understand now why we lied about what we are to each other,” Enzo stated.

  Yeah, he got the reasoning behind it, even if he didn’t fully agree with it. “Siblings or lovers, it’s still a liability keeping you two together. It’s easier to hide one person than two, unless you’re married. They won’t normally separate married couples. Besides.” He eyed up the two lovers. “What if Bella wasn’t sterilized, and she accidentally got pregnant? What would you have done then?”

  Enzo shrugged. “We did what we had to do. It’s always been Bella and me against the world. It’s a position we’re used to. Besides, we don’t have to worry about kids or shit.”

  He hated that they had to rely on themselves. It was a fucked up life doing so. Duncan wanted to be the one to protect and care for them. He gave himself a mental shake. They’re not real feelings. They couldn’t be. He wouldn’t allow it. “I should check in with Omar. Finish your breakfasts then get ready for the day.”

  Bella stared at him. “You’re upset.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not even close.” He tried to smile in reassurance, but the look on her face told him he did a shit job at faking it.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” He went back to the closet and grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and a new shirt then escaped to the bathroom so he could clean up. Relief flooded him. He couldn’t express it though. The expectation of being rejected had overridden even the slightest bit of his hope they’d accept him. Standing there, staring at his clothes, he couldn’t comprehend what just happened. For the first time since he arrived in American, he felt free. Like the weight of the world was off his shoulders and he could breathe, and it was all due to Bella and Enzo. It was their ability to see him and not his transgressions. Duncan smiled to himself. Well, I’ll be damned.

  Still, he couldn’t get ahead of himself. Their approval didn’t equal a relationship, especially when none of them knew what would happen in the future. He had to take it a day at a time and remember that eventually Enzo and Bella would have to be set free.

  When
Omar’s text came through, he blew out a breath of relief. Shit was getting too real too fast. He needed to take a step back and disengage for a while. He went to the door while Bella was showering and stepped out into the hall. Omar stood there. His face was impassive.

  “I’ll be gone for a few hours. If you need anything or if something happens, call me.” Duncan slipped back into his American persona. It was easier to use the mask to protect himself than to expose who he really was. With the information Bella and Enzo had on him, they could destroy him.

  At some point during the last few weeks, Enzo and Bella had crawled under his skin, and now, after having a taste of both of them, he didn’t know how he’d live without them. However, if he’d learned anything, they couldn’t be together. All three of them were broken, plus, he had the whole jail thing hanging over his head. Besides, if the FBI or anyone found out he was fucking them, he’d be shipped home and held in solitary for the remainder of his sentence.

  “Will do. You look like shit. Everything okay?” Omar’s penetrating blue eyes bore into Duncan’s.

  He waved off the guy’s concern. “Welcome to witness protection.”

  Omar snorted. “It’s more than that, but sure. I’ll call if something happens.”

  “Thanks.” Duncan headed to the elevator. Maybe with a few hours away to clear his head, he could find his perspective and rebuild the walls around his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Enzo’s knee bounced as he tried to concentrate on the show Bella was watching. Being cooped up wasn’t helping much. He needed to get out of there and walk around. Clear his head. Too much had happened between the night before and earlier. Duncan explaining his life put so much into perspective for them. No wonder the man turned his emotions off. There was no way to stay sane in a situation like the one he’d been put into.

  A harsh knock came at the door. A flutter of anticipation filled Enzo. It hadn’t been long since Duncan left, but maybe he came back early. He answered the door, ready to give some teasing remark about being addicted to the ‘D’ but instead bit his tongue.

  It was Omar, and he didn’t look too good. “Need to use the facilities.”

  Enzo nodded and lied his ass off. “Bella is asleep, so I’m going to lay down on the bed.” It was his only chance to make a break for it. He needed to walk off the anxious energy taking root in his gut. He covered it well with sarcasm and humor, but truth be told, he was holding on by a thread. From the beginning, he knew things wouldn’t go smoothly. Raul wouldn’t give up. The man had a deadly focus, and he’d stop at nothing, until everyone was dead.

  A dead person couldn’t tell Raul’s secrets.

  “Sure thing.” Omar waved a hand in acknowledgment, hauling ass down the hallway to the bathroom. It gave Enzo the opportunity he needed, and he wasted no time hustling to the front door and slipping into the hallway.

  Breaking Duncan’s rules was bad too. He’d made a promise not to go anywhere, but the walls were closing in, and he needed air. Besides with all the security Duncan always talked about, he was safe. Yet, guilt ate at his gut. Enzo strode toward the elevator. He had two places he could go—the parking the garage or the lobby. He doubted Paul would be up for keeping him company since he had his own shit to do, so he took the elevator to the garage. If anything, he could do laps around the structure to work off some of the excess energy and clear his mind.

  He tapped his thumb against his hip, willing the elevator to hurry up. He hated small enclosed spaces, and since the shit Mexico, the uneasiness increased. When the elevator dinged, he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped out onto the parking deck and shivered.

  “Motherfucker.” East Coast cold was no joke. He’d been in such a hurry that he hadn’t thought about grabbing a heavy jacket. “Oh well, suck it up.”

  As he started the first lap around the garage, he thought about everything he’d been through since he joined Raul’s cartel. If his home life had been different, would he have ever joined a gang? He couldn’t imagine life without his crew. They were the family he’d needed, even when he didn’t know he yearned for them. But, the gang had also caused so much turmoil and strife.

  His and Bella’s parents were dead. Iliana was somewhere safe, but she was almost ten years younger than them. She’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, and for what? After everything Duncan told them, a question he’d been trying to answer for himself sat on the tip of his tongue. Was it all worth it? The exile? Going to jail? Duncan might be able to go home, but he’d never be welcomed back into his family.

  Shit. He was like them, although ten times worse. At least their parents were dead. Duncan’s father was alive. The idea of knowing his father was out there and he couldn’t see him was a fucked up punishment. Yet, the man took it all in stride. He continued to do the job the FBI gave him. How? How did a man who’d been convinced he was doing what was right flip his morals and decide to help the FBI?

  Enzo scrubbed his face. None of it had been fair. There was sacrifice for the greater good and then there was self-sacrifice. Enzo would sacrifice himself for the greater good if it meant taking Raul down forever, whereas Duncan self-sacrificed. He took everything on himself so his father could continue to be a leader. In Enzo’s mind, Duncan’s dad had no honor.

  Sadness filled Enzo. His father had been a son of bitch for sure, but in Ignacio’s own way, he loved all of them. If his mother hadn’t died when he was younger, things might’ve been different, but speculating didn’t do anything to help Enzo now. Even though he and his old man had issues, he never wished him ill. Never wished any harm to befall him. Death by Raul’s hands was slow torture. No one deserved that.

  It was why he hadn’t asked Duncan for any information on their parents’ death. He knew it had been gruesome. He couldn’t imagine the terror Naomi experienced or how hard his father must have fought. He wouldn’t have gone down easily. He probably gave as good as he got and if anything, injured Raul in the process.

  The thought struck him to reach out to Duncan. When the man left earlier, he’d seemed a little lost. Perhaps, he and Bella should have convinced him to stay with them instead of heading out. He slipped the phone Duncan gave him from his back pocket. Duncan had been true to his word. He programmed more numbers into it, most of them the people Duncan worked with. Enzo scrolled through the contacts until he found Duncan’s number and hit send.

  It rang four times before voicemail answered. Enzo blew out a breath. Some visceral part of him wanted to speak to Duncan and maybe tell him to come back. “It’s me. Hey, I thought of something else. Raul may have been injured from the altercation with my father. Pops doesn’t fight fair. Could be why he’s laying low. Anyway, that’s it. Later.” He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

  Rolling his shoulders, he took another deep breath, the cold filling his lungs. It hurt for a split second, but then the air warmed. He glanced around the compound of sorts and decided to make a lap of the whole area. If he was still on edge when he finished, he’d go back and wake Bella up. She’d help him out. She always did.

  Enzo followed the fence line, feeling safer than he had in weeks. There were security cameras and a guard. If anything happened, they’d protect him. He could be free for a minute. He turned the corner as his phone rang. When he reached to grab it, scuffling behind him drew his attention. The next second, pain burst through his skull, and his vision swam. The impact of the concrete jostled his rattled brain and bit into his palms and knees.

  He groaned. “What the fuck?”

  Enzo rolled onto his back, his head pounding, and he looked up into Raul’s beady, malice-filled eyes. His face was contorted, scarred too. A still-healing slash from his right brow down his cheek had blinded the one eye, and another cut sliced across his cheek. He smirked to himself—his father had gotten his licks in. He was crazy good with a blade, and Raul found out the hard way.

  “Stupid motherfuckers.” Raul kicked Enzo in the ribs. “Wasn’t I cle
ar? Didn’t I tell you there’s no fucking place for you to hide if you run from me? I’ll always find my prey.” He turned to one of the two big goons beside him. “Get him in the fucking car.”

  Enzo didn’t struggle when he was pulled off the ground. His ribs ached like hell, but he didn’t think they were broken. Raul stomped like a little bitch. Now, if one of the two men with him kicked Enzo, his ribs would’ve shattered. The bigger guy shoved him into the back of the black SUV waiting haphazardly in the middle of the road. He’d let his guard down. The false sense of confidence he’d built around him diminished the minute he landed on the seat and the door closed.

  Because he decided to go for walk, no one knew where he was, which meant no one would be looking for him until it was too late.

  Raul got in the front passenger side then turned to glare at Enzo. “Where’s your bitch?”

  Enzo needed to protect Bella. She deserved freedom and happiness. He looked Raul in the eyes and lied. “They split us up and took her to a different safe house. I don’t know where she is.”

  Raul grabbed the front of Enzo’s shirt and pulled him forward until they were face to face. “If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll cut your dick off and feed it to the perros while you watch. Entender?”

  Didn’t matter. He was as good as dead anyway. “Sí.” Guess it was true what his old man said—gang members didn’t fear death. They knew it might come for them one day. It was just a matter of when. Today was Enzo’s day, and he’d walk toward death with his head high.

  “Drive, Victor,” Raul ordered, not letting go of Enzo’s shirt until the vehicle was in motion.

  Something was wrong. Anxiety ate at Duncan’s gut the minute he exited his vehicle. The last time he felt anything remotely close to this sensation was when he’d been set up. He tapped his foot, willing the elevator to go faster. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and the vice gripping him tightened. When the doors finally opened, he breathed out a sigh of relief, double timing it to his apartment.