The Bargain

by Lisa Cardiff

  The Bargain

  Vargas Cartel Series, Book 1

  Lisa Cardiff

  The Bargain

  Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Cardiff. All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: March 2015

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-076-1

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-076-0

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Prologue

  Murmurs. Whispers. Papers shuffled. A door opened.

  I tried to move, but I couldn’t.

  I opened my eyes, but everything was black.

  I wanted to scream, but my mouth was full.

  I jerked my body forward, but fire roared through my shoulders. Holy shit…I was tied to a chair. Ropes bit into my wrists and my ankles, burning my skin with every quiver and twist of my extremities.

  I didn’t have a fucking clue where I was. I didn’t recall anything. My mind spun in relentless circles searching for a memory, a clue, anything to explain where I was or what happened to me. Jumbled thoughts whipped through my brain in rapid-fire succession.

  Spring Break.

  Mexico.

  Dancing in a nightclub.

  A Prairie Fire.

  An Irish Car Bomb.

  A Red Headed Slut.

  A Buttery Nipple.

  So many others I couldn’t name them all.

  One song blurring into the next.

  Dancing on the bar.

  And him.

  Someone ripped the hood from my head, taking a few strands of hair with it. Bright light seared my eyeballs. I squeezed them closed, willing them to adjust to the light. When I opened them again, a bone-jarring jolt of recognition raced through me. I saw him…the guy from the bar. Ryker. Dark, almost black hair, icy gray eyes, straight nose and angular features, enhanced by the careless, dark stubble on his face. What the hell?

  He snatched my hair, twisting it around his hand until my scalp stung. One calloused finger trailed down the side of my face almost reverently. I twisted my head to the side, but he yanked me back.

  He chuckled, his too lush lips forming a twisted smile. “What’s wrong? You liked my touch last night.”

  I screamed, but the dusty rag in my mouth muffled my voice. I tried to spit it out, but my mouth was too dry. Tears erupted from behind my eyes, and water streamed down my face.

  What did he want? Was he going to kill me? Did he plan to rape me?

  Just like that my stomach revolted. He won’t rape me. He already had me. Images of my dress around my waist, his pants unzipped, and my body pressed against a dirty stucco wall as he moved inside of me flickered through my mind. I gagged and inhaled at the same time. My lungs burned. My heart jackhammered against my breastbone. My ears howled. Black dots clouded my vision. My head rolled forward.

  “Calm the fuck down. You’re going to faint.” He ripped the rag from my mouth, and I opened my mouth, preparing to scream, but he moved faster. His hand had slammed over my mouth before I had the opportunity to summon a single syllable.

  “If you scream, I’ll shove that rag back into your mouth so hard you’ll lose your front teeth.”

  My head bobbed up and down like a bobble head doll.

  Slowly, his hand lifted from my mouth, and my mind cleared. I remembered who I am and what that meant. “You’ll regret this. Do you know who I am?”

  His lips curved into a smile, not the carefree, sexy smile he used on me at the bar. It made me feel dirty. I wanted to scour my skin for hours. “You’re Hattie Covington.”

  I didn’t remember sharing my full name last night. I never shared it. I preferred to be anonymous. My name carried too much baggage, especially in my circle of friends, but Ryker wasn’t part of my circle and he certainly wasn’t my friend. Far from it. He was a random guy from a random bar. “And do you know what that means?” I hissed through clenched teeth. I wanted to sound strong and brave, but my voice cracked on the last word, shredding the illusion.

  He tipped up my chin, brushing his finger across my lower lip. I flinched, but he didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t care…probably the latter.

  “Ah, that’s cute. Do you and your friends really say that?” he mocked with far too much amusement.

  “My dad is the Attorney General of the United States,” I yelled.

  “And that’s exactly why you’re here.”

  Chapter One

  Three weeks ago…

  “What time do you want me to pick you up tonight?” Evan asked as we strolled out of our last class of the day. Evan and I started dating in college. We were both political science majors and both of our dads were career politicians. We moved in similar circles, our parents knew each other, one thing led to another, and we started dating. We even applied to the same graduate schools. Everyone expected us to get married sooner rather than later, and we probably would—Evan had been dropping hints about asking me to marry him for the last couple months.

  Admittedly, we didn’t have an earth shattering, yell from the rooftops love affair, but we were comfortable in each other’s lives; we had similar goals, and I loved him. Evan wanted to follow his father into politics, and I wanted to find a job working in foreign policy. I dreamed of working in the State Department, and with my connections and my master’s degree, I could make it happen. I had already secured an internship when I graduated this spring at the American Foreign Policy Council.

  “Shit,” I said under my breath. Tonight was the fundraiser for his dad. Evan’s dad was a second, soon-to-be third term Senator of Nevada. Before entering politics, Evan’s dad owned a casino, so he has connections to people with deep pockets. The D.C. fundraiser probably wasn’t necessary, but in politics a well-funded campaign almost always translated into a winning campaign.

  Evan stopped walking. “Don’t tell me you forgot, because we both know you never forget anything.”

  “Maybe I did forget. There’s a first time for everything,” I lied, looking down at my simple black wedges. Of course I didn’t forget. I methodically planned every hour of every day right down to the most mundane detail, like when I planned to exercise, study, and eat. I reviewed my schedule for the next day every night before I
went to bed. Nothing was a surprise.

  I realized planning my life with such precision likely meant I had some sort of obsessive disorder, but it gave me control over my life, something I didn’t have much of as a kid. Growing up, my mom selected my clothes, my hairstyle, my friends, and my enemies. She arranged my play dates and planned my meals and snacks so that I never exceeded my allotted caloric intake.

  I lived my life as her puppet until the day I left for college. Now I ruled my life with iron control and absolute clockwork precision, so she didn’t have the chance to slide back into my life and make decisions for me.

  Wrapping his hands around my upper arms, he turned my body to face him. His eyes narrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Really, Hattie? Do you expect me to believe that you forgot? Let me see your phone.”

  I lifted my head, meeting the irritated stare of his chocolate brown eyes.

  “I put it in my phone, but Eric called in sick with a family emergency, and I agreed to cover his office hours.” Eric was in the same graduate program as Evan and me. His mom had cancer, and it had been a rough year for him. I covered his office hours at least once a week to give him more time to help her.

  “Eric always has a family emergency,” Evan snapped, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I know, but his mom has a chemo treatment today. I had to help him. She can’t go by herself.” It wasn’t too late to call him and cancel. He’d find someone else or he could reschedule his hours, but I didn’t want to add to Eric’s stress. He had all he needed and more.

  “Don’t be mad.” I lifted onto my toes and brushed a kiss over his lips. I didn’t have to look at his face to know he was pissed. Attending a fundraiser for Evan’s dad was a big deal, but I had been dreading it for the last month. My parents would be there, and that meant my mom wouldn’t hold back when the time came to judge my clothing choices, my hair, and my behavior. Like always, she’d go on a tirade about Evan and me having a big future in politics and I needed to dress and look the part. A chill raced through me at the thought of enduring another confrontation with her. I wished she’d back off and leave me alone for once.

  At least Evan asked me to move in with him when we started graduate school, and I escaped the prison of living at home. I could’ve rented my own place after college, but I didn’t like living alone. My parents didn’t provide much companionship, but being alone would have been infinitely worse.

  “I’m not mad.” He brushed his thumb over my lip. “But I have to admit the events are more tolerable when I have you on my arm.”

  “Oh please.” I rolled my eyes. “You barely talk to me at those events. I could give you a cardboard cutout of myself, and it’d be just as effective.”

  He chuckled, flashing his bright white smile, and one of his hands slipped to my lower back. “No. I’d notice when I ended up with a bunch of paper cuts.”

  I grinned at him. “Jerk,” I joked.

  “What time do office hours end?”

  “It’s only two hours, so I’ll be done by nine.”

  He slid my hair behind my ear. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be home late. I’m meeting the guys at that bar on K Street after I’ve put in enough face time to satisfy my dad. There’s a good band playing there tonight.”

  My brows scrunched together. “I don’t remember you mentioning that before.” I didn’t like Evan’s friends. For the most part, they were a bunch of entitled assholes with a cruel sense of humor.

  “I’m sure I mentioned it.” He kneaded the back of his neck, his face utterly blank.

  “What’s wrong?” Massaging the back of his neck usually meant something was amiss or he was hiding information. He didn’t realize he did it. I should’ve told him. Obvious tells weren’t beneficial in politics, but I liked being able to read him.

  His eyes flickered to the side and then a huge smile flashed across his face. “Nothing. I’ll miss you tonight.” He threaded his fingers through mine and guided me toward his car. “Are you ready to go home?” He never wanted to rush back to our apartment after class. Normally, he had a million and one things to do.

  “I could meet you at the bar. I’ll be done by nine, and if no one shows, I can leave early.” I squeezed his hand, pulling him closer to me as we walked to the parking lot. “We can have a few drinks and be in bed by ten-thirty.” I flashed him a naughty grin letting him know exactly what I meant. Over the last month, we’d been so busy our sex life had suffered. Not that we were ever too crazy, but now we lived like roommates instead a young couple in love. That didn’t bode well for the future, but I tried to push the thought out of my mind and mentally recite all the reasons we were perfect for each other.

  “You don’t have to come. I understand.” He stopped next to his car and I tried to catch his eyes, but they roamed everywhere except to me. “I know you don’t like my friends.”

  “What?” A completely fake laugh slipped from my lips. “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s obvious.”

  I bit on the side of my lower lip. “I’m that transparent, huh?”

  He tapped my nose. “Don’t be upset. I think it’s cute you can’t hide your emotions…especially when it comes to me.” He lowered his voice. “I like that you’re mine, and you’ve only been with me.” By all accounts, Evan hadn’t been an angel before he met me, but it never bothered me. Once we met, we clicked, and that’s all that counted anyway. His reputation as a womanizer quickly disappeared, and for the most part, he’d never given me a reason to doubt him.

  My cheeks heated and I ducked my head. “You’re embarrassing me,” I whined even as I smiled at him.

  “I’m not trying to.” He pressed a kiss on my forehead, and then he opened the passenger door of his car for me.

  “If I can leave Eric’s office hours early, I’ll meet you at the bar,” I reaffirmed. I did want to spend time with him. I owed it to him for missing the fundraiser.

  Chapter Two

  “I can’t believe you dragged me here. This place smells like stale beer and vomit,” Vera said as we pushed our way through the crowd of people.

  The band had started playing about a half an hour ago, and I was late, but I still wanted to meet Evan, so I came anyway. I’d texted him, but he didn’t respond.

  After nearly fifteen minutes of searching, I spotted a couple of Evan’s friends sitting at a table near the stage. Evan wasn’t at the table, but they probably knew where to find him.

  “Hey,” I said as I stood near the edge of the table.

  “Hi,” Darren and Matt replied, hardly looking in my direction. My dislike was mutual. At first, I tried to be friendly, but they were a bad influence on Evan. He always drank too much and did stupid shit when they were around.

  I tipped my head toward Vera. “Do you guys remember Vera?”

  They nodded as though it were too much effort to say anything. Vera hated them even more than I did. Unlike me though, she didn’t hold back.

  “I’m going to get us a drink. What do you want?” Vera asked.

  “A beer.”

  “That narrows it down.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just order two of whatever you want.”

  She chuckled as she walked away. “I have the perfect drink.”

  I sat at one of the two empty seats at the table. “Have you seen Evan?”

  Darren smirked. “I think he went to the bathroom.”

  Matt elbowed him and shook his head, his eyes narrowed.

  “What?” Darren said. “She asked. I answered.”

  “Right,” Matt said, drawing out the word. “You’re totally innocent.”

  My eyes bounced between them. Obviously, I missed some important information. “I’ll be back.”

  I pressed through the people crowding the dance floor, heading toward the bathrooms located at the end of the hall. Evan and I came to this bar more than a few times to listen to the live music, so I knew where to find the bathroom.

  I t
urned the corner near the edge of the dance floor intending to wait for Evan. Every muscle in my body turned to cement when I saw him. My stomach knotted, and my heart spiraled to a painful stop. I rubbed my eyes, unwilling to believe what I saw at the end of the hallway.

  Evan stood at the end of the hall, his body smashed against some blonde-haired woman in a short blue dress, her arms locked around his neck. With his tongue halfway down her throat and one of his hands under her skirt, his body moved against hers in a rhythm that made my dinner lurch in my stomach.

  The live music reverberated harshly through my ears. Anger and betrayal pumped like acid through my veins. Hot tears seared the corners of my eyes and my hands fisted the fabric of my dress. I tried to blink away the evidence of my shattering heart and be strong, but the tears kept coming, refusing to leave my dignity intact.

  Part of me wanted to bolt for the door and drink enough alcohol to burn the image from my eyes, but the rest of me wanted to rip every last strand of Evan’s perfectly gelled hair from his head.

  “Evan,” I yelled, but his name clotted in my throat.

  He lifted his head, and his dark eyes locked with mine.

  “Hattie, baby,” he said pushing away from the woman. “I’m sorry.” He held out his hand to me—the same one that had been up that woman’s dress five seconds earlier—and I felt something break inside me beyond recognition. My heart? Trust? I didn’t know.

  I backpedaled a few steps, shaking my head from side to side, my short hair whipping my cheeks. “Don’t touch me.” A dozen fragmented thoughts collided in my brain, but my mouth floundered. The ability to focus escaped me. Was this the first time he’d cheated? Or did it happen so often that he wasn’t worried about me catching him in the act? Was he dating this woman too? Were there others? Did his friends know?

  “Evan,” the blonde woman said as her bubblegum fingernails dug into the skin on his forearm. “What’s going on?”