“What’s up?” Brook entered the room and stopped short, taking a step back as she looked back and forth between the two men.
“Maria’s gone AWOL.”
“Why am I not shocked?” she asked, exasperated.
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Well, you’ve got that tracker on her phone so that should help.”
“I’m enabling it as we speak.”
“You don’t sound like you’re sure you’re going to find her.”
“You know me well—I’ll give you that. I’ve got a nagging feeling that just knowing where she is won’t be enough, though. That girl can find trouble faster than anyone I know. Before the night’s over, she’s going to need us to find her.”
“That doesn’t sound too good.”
“Just a gut feeling.”
Brook of all people knew that when Diego had a gut feeling about something he was usually right. And, as much as the girl got on her nerves, she didn’t want to see anything bad happen to her.
Crush stood with his arms folded in front of him as if he wasn’t listening—but he was. Everything in him went on high alert when he heard what Diego said to Brook. His hunting instincts flared deep inside him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His eyes narrowed as he thought about all the places where Maria could be.
Nothing in the cartel life was ever predictable. Crush liked the adrenalin high that went with his job. Hell, if the truth was told, you had to be an adrenalin junkie to do this kind of work. The anticipation and the hunt were to be savored and enjoyed. There was a demanding pace to this lifestyle and he liked to enjoy every aspect of it, not just the highpoints of killing and torture.
It wasn’t every day Crush got to hunt a woman, and the thought of tracking down this particular woman was getting him hard. He frowned and adjusted his pants, hoping he wouldn’t be asked to explain it, because he wasn’t sure he could.
Normally he’d be angry with a woman for sneaking out on his watch but for some reason he was looking at this situation in a different light—a ‘let the games begin’ type attitude. If this girl wanted to play, then play, he would. Yeah, let the games begin.
Up until now Maria had been just another girl to protect, but the fact that she made things personal by escaping on his watch took things in an interesting, new direction. Whether she remained intriguing to him would depend on how crafty she was. If she proved to be a worthy opponent then things could get interesting, to say the least.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Maria was sure the guy could hear her heart thundering in her chest, even from the other side of the store. She was about two seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. But now wasn’t the time to freak out. She needed to think and she needed to think fast. A clear head was the only thing that was going to get her out of this alive.
She chastised herself for sneaking out, she chastised herself for coming in the store, and she chastised herself for her love of junk food that brought her into the store in the first place. She willed herself to calm down and take in her surroundings. The guy with the gun was escalating and now he’d gone from saying ‘Open the register’ to screaming out demands that were becoming more ludicrous by the moment.
“Open the fucking safe!”
“I can’t open the safe.”
“You’re the owner. What the fuck do you mean you can’t open it?!”
“It’s on a timer. We do it because of people like you.”
Didn’t this guy know not to antagonize a man with a gun? As far as Maria was concerned, if he got his ass shot she wanted no part of it.
She eased around the corner to get a better look at the robber. She had no intention of letting her fear keep her from getting a good description of him. She wasn’t afraid of the robber or even the police. No, her fear of Diego was steering her actions now. He would want to know who had come into the neighborhood—his neighborhood—and threatened one of its business owners and one of his girls.
Nothing happened around here that the cartel didn’t approve. This man was clearly a junkie because only someone with an addiction would be stupid enough to come into cartel territory and do this. She made mental notes of what she was seeing: About 5’11, maybe 140 pounds. Skinny. Probably a junkie, which would explain his erratic behavior. Long, leather coat. Construction boots. Greasy, black hair. Oh, yeah, and a sawed-off shotgun.
Now she knew why he wore the heavy coat. Fucking hindsight’s a bitch. He hadn’t noticed her yet. She was attempting to crawl to the bathroom. Maybe it had a window and she could get out of this nightmare. She heard the bell over the door jingle and stared, slack-jawed, when she saw who came in.
“Hey, my man… What ya got there? Hey, man, you got a phone back there? I need to call a cab—too fucked up to drive, know what I mean?” The man stumbled, grabbing on to the counter as if getting his bearings. He stumbled again and then looked back up. “What ya got there—‘zat a water gun?”
As soon as he asked the question, Diego grabbed the gun away from him and clocked him with it on the side of his head. The guy did an impressive Timberrr! faceplant onto the tile floor.
His next words were directed toward the store’s owner as he handed him the saw-off shotgun. “You call the cops now, but don’t mention me or anyone else.” His voice turned venomous. “You know who I am. Don’t make me regret saving your ass.”
“No, no, no, Mr. Dias -- I d-d-don’t want no trouble. I, I, I’m not saying nothing about you or anything else.”
Diego had already turned away from the counter and taken several steps toward the back of the store. He knew the man didn’t want to die. Only a fool would cross the cartel. “And you,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at her where she huddled behind the rack of teriyaki beef jerky. “You get your ass out of here, Maria.”
He’d never once looked in her direction when he entered the store. The whole time he’d been pretending to be drunk, he’d never looked around the store. That and the fact she was hidden had her baffled. Fuckin’ Ninja abilities. Impressive, she thought to herself. She had no idea how he found her, but this was one time she was glad he did.
Sirens wailed off in the distance, getting closer by the second. Quickly crossing the room, Diego jerked Maria up off the floor by her arm and shoved her out the door. She felt like a child being reprimanded, but she felt safe and that made any embarrassment well worth the shame of being dragged away in front of people.
Diego had always been there for his women and he always would be. She knew she could depend on that, like the sun coming up each morning. Plus, he had fuckin’ Ninja abilities, and that was just plain badass in her eyes.
Maria stood in front of Diego’s desk, where he was sitting in his chair as Brook perched on the corner of his desk. He had his hand on Brook’s knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her skin. Maria envied them the intimacy they shared; it was obvious that Brook soothed Diego, especially at times like this.
Maria stared sullenly at a random spot on the carpet and wished like hell she hadn’t climbed out that window. She looked over at the guard who had been on duty and mouthed I’m sorry.
He gave her a small smile because he’d always thought she was kinda cute. He’d watch her better in the future, though, because if anyone would have been able to read his thoughts, they would have seen he was as concerned if not more, than Diego had been about the girl’s welfare. It was probably good he wasn’t there with the man who had tried to rob the convenience store. The fucker would be in the ground by now.
Maria was relieved when Diego finally spoke. At least now she’d know what he was thinking.
“I’ve thought about it. Although I’ve always gone out of my way to make certain my women were safe, I’ve also tried to give them some semblance of freedom. It isn’t in your nature to be cooped up inside, Maria, I get that. You also have a penchant to be impulsive.”
“I prefer to think of it as adventurous--”
“And
I’d prefer that you not speak. As I was saying, I think you need a challenge. I’m going to leave this up to you, but I have an idea I want you to think about.”
Maria’s heart began to pound in her chest. What if this was something she knew she shouldn’t do, but she wanted to do anyway?
“—I’d like you to set Santiago up. If he was following you, I believe we can convince him you aren’t on lockdown anymore. We can put a tracker on you and catch him.”
“You mean like you did already? I know you didn’t just happen to stop by the convenience store.”
“And you, little girl, should be glad I did!” Diego snarled. He had a way of shutting people down quickly with only a few cutting, cruel words.
She inhaled slowly before answering. “You saved my life. And you’re right about me needing adventure. Staying inside is making me nuts.” She’d started out strong but ended on a whine. Even she had sense enough to know what lines to never cross with her boss. Sure…she was the one employee who always pushed the envelope, but she wasn’t crazy and pissing Diego off right now would be just that—a crazy thing to do.
Diego eyed Crush with a frown. “Are you willing to protect her if I send her out on a job? God knows the girl can’t stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll kill to protect her, boss.”
Maria felt her heart skip a beat and she looked up at the brawny guard again as if she were seeing him for the first time. She smiled at him but his eyes remained neutral and direct, unwavering. It only made her think he was even better looking than she’d originally thought. Hmm, how come I’ve never noticed you before, big guy?
As far as Diego was concerned, things were working out better than he’d anticipated. From the way these two were making eyes at each other, he was going to be successful catching a serial killer. That meant the Ramirez brothers were going to be happy, and in his line of work that was a good thing. Lately both Ramirez brothers had been crankier than usual and he didn’t want it directed toward him or any of his women. In his line of work, you could be in good standing with the bosses one day and the next…not so much.
Diego steepled his fingers on the desk and looked at Maria speculatively. Whatever he was getting ready to say to her would be important, she could tell.
“This goes against everything in me. I don’t like using you to catch a killer. Tell me no, that you don’t want to do it, and I won’t send you out there. I don’t want your blood on my hands or on my conscience. You know I look at you like an annoying little sister. That means I care about you. So I want you to use every instinct you have to bring your ass back to me safely. I’m going to ask you one more time: are you sure you want to do this?”
“Diego,” she said, her voice thick, “you know I love you like a brother. The thing about it is”—she shook her head and continued—“I love these girls here like they’re my sisters. This is my family. Sure, we fight, but real sisters fight too. You can rip each other a new asshole when you’re family, but let an outsider come in and try to do it and it’s war. We’ve got an outsider who wants to kill women and seems to be focusing on the women who work here. If I can help catch him, then I owe it to every woman here to try.”
“Well, let’s catch the son of a bitch without any lives being lost and I’m cool with it. Now go with our blessing.” When he turned and looked at Brook she had tears in her eyes, and he knew what Maria had said was the gospel truth: these girls were sisters. Everybody in his club was family. Just come back alive, little girl.
Diego waited until Crush and Maria were gone before talking to his woman. “I don’t like this one damn bit, but at least it gives me some semblance of control over an uncontrollable situation.”
Brook took his face in both of her hands, ensuring he was looking at her and paying attention as she spoke.
“It isn’t always about what we do, sometimes it’s about why we do it.”
Diego grabbed onto those words as if they were a lifeline. He might need them in the future. Brook was proving to be much more than just his woman—she was proving herself to be a competent partner in crime, a worthy Colombian cartel woman.
Antonio Wayne had his wife pinned against their bedroom wall, her back to his front. Just a little fucked up fun. His idea of foreplay. And it’s working, he thought. His cock was already hot and hard as he slid it back and forth between Roxanne’s ass cheeks.
She grunted in feigned resistance when he clasped her wrists and pulled her arms above her head as high as they would reach.
“I suppose I should thank you,” he murmured darkly. “If I didn’t have you to take all this aggression, it would be a bloodbath out there. Even the men who work for me would be in grave danger, not to mention my enemies. Just think…you’re saving lives and keeping me out of prison. So civic-minded. So giving. How giving do you feel tonight, I wonder?”
It took a strong woman to deal with the likes of Antonio Wayne Ramirez, and Roxanne was definitely a strong woman. The day Antonio Wayne met his wife and married her all those years ago, he met his match.
“Far be it from me to not do my share for the cartel and world peace,” she retorted, and immediately regretted it. Why can’t I keep my fucking mouth shut?
“Nice. See, that’s what I love about you. You make it so damn easy to angry fuck you.”
Her breathing shifted at his words, changing abruptly to a series of shallow, uneven gasps. She fed off the brutality that raged within him and nothing would ever change that. She found raw sexuality as intriguing and addictive now as she had the day he had her caged and forced her to marry him.
“I need you, Roxanne. Your body, your mind, everything,” he murmured against her skin as he nibbled along the side of her neck. He reached around to cup a soft breast, marveling as he always did at the lush, familiar curves that had only ever belonged to him.
He pulled her head back toward him and claimed her lips with a prayer that she would, once again, set him free from the craziness inside his head.
“I need to fill you up with my rage,” he declared, lifting his head just enough to establish eye contact. “It’s only because of you that I don’t want to kill somebody right now. Without you, the rage finds its way inside me only to start clawing its way out again. You’re the only thing that sates the bloodlust that has followed me throughout my life. I worry sometimes that I demand too much from you. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
He had never belonged anywhere but in the cartel and in Roxanne’s arms. With her, Antonio Wayne felt like he belonged and wasn’t just some freak outcast from society.
“Lucky for you,” she purred, “it’s the same thing that’s wrong with me: you need to take and I need to be taken. Perfect.”
With those words, she gave him permission to once again take what he needed from her. She’d given him that permission years ago, but it still felt right to remind him that she understood him. Because she was as fucked up as he was, in her own way. They liked nothing better than to feast on one another like savages.
“Fuck me, Antonio. Fuck me like you hate me—like you want to kill me.” Yes…she was as fucked up as he was.
He pulled her over to the couch in the corner of the sitting area and roughly bent her over the end of it. He yanked her dress up over her hips and ripped her panties off. “Why are you wearing this? You know I fucking hate underwear,” he grumbled.
He stood back and admired his handiwork while he rolled his shirt sleeves back over his forearms. “Don’t fucking move,” he snarled. He unfastened his pants as he approached her, kicking her feet farther apart as he palmed his cock, deliberately waiting, letting the anticipation build.
Roxanne could feel Antonio Wayne’s gaze burning into her flesh as he beheld her most intimate flesh, laid bare before him. She was a fighter capable of her own brand of brutality when pressed -- yet another reason why Antonio Wayne had been relentless early in their marriage, determined to break her down little by little and reveal the depths of her sexually submissive n
ature.
“That’s it, give in to me now. You know you can trust me like no other.” She felt her muscles soften and relax as he positioned his cock at her entrance and slowly pushed his way inside. Her fingers gripped onto the leather couch as she prepared for what she knew was coming. He paced his thrusts as he reached around to stroke her clit. His lips nipped up and down her neck, electrifying every nerve as his hands roamed freely, working their magic over her body.
Antonio Wayne understood her body even better than she did. His lovemaking consumed her mind as much as it did her body, as he instinctively seemed to know exactly what she needed in the moment. Even when her mood shifted and changed, he always knew how to give her what she needed.
Her surrender tonight would help to soothe her husband’s innate aggressive tendencies, which had worsened recently. The Santiago situation and perpetual delays in the purchase of the television station were enough to kick his natural brutality into high gear. So she gave herself to him, clearing her mind of everything but his touch, his warmth, his breath, his possession.
“Please, Sir…”
“Come, Roxanne!” he roared, bringing his hand down on her ass.
She reveled in her Master’s command and let the stinging impact of his hand send her reeling as an orgasm rolled through her body in delicious waves of pleasure. Her velvety walls clenched around his cock, demanding that he give her what she needed most: his mark of ownership.
He dug his fingers into her hips as he came, shuddering as he held her in place beneath him, demanding that she take everything he had to give. His wife soothed the beast that prowled deep within him. He was hers, she was his, and they were one. Everything would be okay now.
Each joining of their bodies was a renewal of their dedication to each other and the cartel life they shared. They would continue to cleave unto each other as their marriage vows had stated: in sickness, in poverty, even until death. Their relationship wasn’t that of a traditional married couple, but they wouldn’t have had it any other way. Their union would remain the driving force in their lives.
Inevitable (Colombian Cartel Book 3) Page 14