by Callie Hart
“What the fuck is he doing?” Shay hisses. “Things were never like this before. We were just fine, flying under the radar. Now we’ve got the DEA and a fucking cartel on our doorstep. And now this.”
“And what’s this, Shay?”
She folds her arms across her chest, frowning into the darkness, clearly pissed off beyond words. “I don’t know yet, but I can guarantee you it’s nothing good.”
Carnie throws an arm over her shoulder, hugging her to his side. “Rebel knows what he’s doing, babe. We all trust him. Right?”
Shay doesn’t answer as quickly as she should. Finally she clears her throat and says, “Sure. Of course we do. It’s not him I’m worried about. It’s her I don’t trust.” She spins on her heel and heads back inside the clubhouse, collecting a bottle of scotch from the bar as she walks by. Her hurried footsteps are thunderous as she runs up the flight of stairs to the second floor, where she and Carnie have taken to sleeping.
“Think I should go after her?” Carnie asks.
“Who the fuck knows. Shay’s your Rubik’s Cube to figure out, not mine. I gave up on that one pretty much the moment I met her.”
Carnie grunts. I don’t think he likes to be reminded that the girl he’s hooking up with is difficult to say the least. Impossible would probably be a better word. He steps back inside, leaving me alone in front of the clubhouse, listening to the soft susurrus of crickets whispering in the distance while I wait for Jamie to come find me.
I’m strangely calm. If there were a problem, Jamie wouldn’t be standing around, talking to the strangers he’s brought back here under the cover of night. He’d be kicking the crap out of them and I’d be over there with him, doing the same. I hear Spanish passing back and forth—must be some of Julio’s men. I’ll wait for Jamie to call me over before I intrude. These things can be tricky. Political. Perez’s men have no love for me, the same way they have no love for Jamie. Better they deal with just the one of us for the moment. I rest my shoulder against the doorjamb, biding my time.
Across the courtyard on the other side of the compound, the barn looms, a grey-black shadow, shot through with white where the woodwork has been painted around the yawning entrance and the window frames on the upper level. Underneath there, through that rusted hatch, Maria Rosa is probably prowling like an animal, pacing back and forth, plotting and scheming like she usually does.
I haven’t seen her since I jerked off in the hallway. Carnie’s been begrudgingly taking her the meals that are prepared for her, and when I asked him, he said she hasn’t hit on him once. He seemed almost disappointed by the fact. After what Rebel said took place in Vegas, poor bastard likely thought she’d be into him or something. She said it herself, though: she thinks Carnie’s a little boy. She used him to put on a show for Rebel and the guy never realized it.
I wonder what she’d do for me—what kind of messed up, fucked up, kinky bullshit she’d instigate if she knew I’d be willing to sit and watch it. The thing about Maria Rosa is that she’s intriguing. I want to know how she works. I want to know what drives her. When you know what drives a man, or in this case a woman, you discovered their undoing. It’s easy to defeat your enemies if you know what they desire more than anything else in the world. You simply take that from them—the ability to ever obtain their desires—and you remove their reason for living. I want to know her deepest, darkest fantasy, and in turn I want to use it against her, to destroy her. It only seems fair for the abuse I suffered at her hand in Columbia, and it only seems fair for the men, women and two kids that lost their lives that day in the grocery store in LA.
‘”Cade? Cade, meet Andreas Medina. Andreas is Julio Perez’s second in command.”
I look away from the barn, back to where Rebel and his guests were a moment ago, only they’re not there anymore. They’re standing right in front of me, as is Sophia. Five of them in total. Two Widow Makers, and three of Julio’s men. Sophia looks exhausted, like she’s dead on her feet. I’m betting that was her longest ride yet. Must have wiped her out. Standing beside Jamie, a skinny Mexican with a haunted looking face and deeply sunken eyeballs grimaces at me. No smile.
“You’re the one who declared war,” he says, looking me up and down. He obviously doesn’t think it was a good idea. “Ballsy,” he says. “I got no idea how you thought you were gonna win, but still…”
“Oh, we’re gonna win. You wouldn’t fucking be here if your boss didn’t think so too.”
Andreas bares his teeth. “My boss and I have differing opinions sometimes. I’m sure you and Rebel don’t always see eye to eye.”
Sophia places a hand on my shoulder, giving me a tired smile. “You’d be surprised,” she says, as she walks past me into the clubhouse. Jamie seems to be happy and content, but I can sense the tension on him. I know he’s got a lot to tell me, but he can’t exactly spill everything now. It’ll have to wait until later.
“What’s the plan?” I ask. “Are Andreas and his friends staying in the compound?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna set them up in the clubhouse. Julio’s going to be arriving in the morning. Maybe our other guest should watch a movie instead of taking a walk this evening?”
He’s talking about Maria Rosa, of course. Now’s around about the time that I’d have to restrain her and walk her around the back of the compound, let her climb up the hill towards Rebel’s place three or four times before taking her back down into the basement, but then again I haven’t had the pleasure of that duty recently.
Jamie ushers the men into the building behind me, following Perez’s men inside last. As he passes me, he whispers in a low voice, “They can’t know about her, man. They can’t even suspect. Keep everyone away from the barn while they’re here, yeah?”
“Sure thing.”
“And their Humvee? There are some in the trunk. Can you take them down into the armory? Be fucking careful, Cade. Seriously.” He looks worried for some reason. Jamie’s never worried. Whatever is in those boxes must be dangerous shit.
“Should I come up to the cabin when I’m done?” I ask.
Jamie nods. “We have a lot to talk about.”
******
The boxes are full of fucking C4 explosives. No wonder Jamie said to be careful. On deployment people would lose limbs all the time fucking around with this shit. I carry the boxes one at a time, gingerly balancing as best I can with my load in my hands, pressed against my chest as I descend down into the basement, where we keep the rest of the club’s munitions. Takes me four trips to complete my task. I have no idea why the fuck Jamie brought so much back with him—there are enough explosives stacked up next to our semi automatics and live rounds to take out half of New Mexico—but I guess he’ll explain that when I head up to the cabin. I’m about to lock up behind myself and head topside when I hear screaming down the hallway.
“Fucking pigs! You’re fucking late. Let me out of here!” a loud, hollow, metallic sound vibrates down the corridor as Maria Rosa slams her palm against the steel door to her quarters. She’s none too happy to be missing her evening stroll, it would seem. “Fucking asshole! Carnie, I can hear you out there, you shit!”
I stop in my tracks. I shouldn’t. I should leave her to her screaming and her cursing, head straight back up the ladder and ignore her, but for some reason I find myself hovering.
“Get Rebel down here,” she spits. Her words are muffled, but I can hear the vitriol in them just fine. “Get him down here. I’ve had enough. I’ve fucking had enough, you bastard.”
Back in Columbia, Mother’s empire has undoubtedly been dismantled, warred over, torn apart and claimed by a hundred two-bit cocaine dealers. No new cartel head rose to power and took over the Desolladors after Maria Rosa went missing. Jamie’s had Danny monitor local news and our informants since the day we locked her down here, so we’d know about it if they had. No one has come to save her. Her people didn’t rally to rescue her like she insisted they would during those early days. She’s been down here a
lone, and every day for the past six months she’s been angry. Furious at the way she’s been treated. Listening to her pound and shout through the door now, though, she sounds different. She sounds as though she really has had enough. She sounds like she’s given up.
I don’t know how I get there, but I find myself standing in front of her door. Maria Rosa falls quiet, as if she can sense my presence. I can hear her sniffing on the other side of the inch-thick steel.
“Carnie’s up in the clubhouse,” I say. “We have guests. You’re gonna be stuck down here for the next few days.”
“Cade?”
I bite my tongue.
“Cade? Please, open the door. I fucking can’t stand this anymore.”
“Perhaps you should have considered that before you took on a guy who isn’t typically known for his forgiving nature.”
“Fucking shit,” she spits. “I tortured you for three days. I lost my temper and tried to pin something shitty on you. You’ve locked me away for months. I haven’t seen daylight in…in…”
She clearly has no idea how long it’s been. “You had people killed, Mother. Innocent people. You know how he feels about that.”
She’s silent for a moment. “We’re people who kill people, Cade. That’s who we are. You know this. When I die, the lord will judge me for my sins. He’ll weigh the acts of my life and I will have to settle the balance. Until then, I can only be who I am. Who I was made to be.”
Everything goes silent. She doesn’t say another word. I stand there in front of her door for a moment, her words ringing in my ears. I can still hear them repeating over and over again as I finally walk away.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOPHIA
I wake up in the morning, and a light, fluttering sensation is dancing in my stomach—the same kind of feeling I used to get every year when I woke up on Christmas morning and I could hear Mom and Dad moving about downstairs, organizing our presents and making breakfast. It should be a good feeling, an excited feeling, but today it’s not. I’m scared out of my mind. Today, we’re attempting to rescue my father from Ramirez’s farmhouse, and I have no idea if we’re going to be successful. He might end up getting killed in the process. Hell, all of us might end up getting killed in the process. I fucking hate that we’re having to use Julio Perez to distract Hector, and I especially hate the fact that his right hand guy, Andreas, came back with us yesterday.
The man is disgusting—an evil pig almost as abhorrent and revolting as Raphael Dela Vega was. They were cut from the same cloth at birth; I have no doubt in my mind that Andreas is a nasty piece of work, and that we can’t trust him as far as we can throw him.
I turn to wake Jamie up, but I find the other half of the bed empty when I roll over. I didn’t hear him get up; god knows how long he’s been gone for, or how long I’ve slept in for, but for some reason I feel like I’ve been alone here for a long time. Hours, at least. I was exhausted yesterday when we got back to the compound. Every single muscle in my body ached. When we got home and tumbled into bed, Jamie offered me a massage, winking, promising me much more than that, but I’d been too tired and sore to even take him up on the offer.
I climb out of bed and do a quick recon of the cabin, looking to make sure Jamie’s not in the bathroom or passed out on the couch for some reason, but he’s not. The clock on the wall reads nine thirty-eight am. Jeez… We went to bed late, well after midnight, but I think this is the first time I’ve come close to getting eight hours sleep in month. Jamie must have had someone else pick up the prospect’s chores this morning. I’m sure a riot nearly broke out amongst the other club members—why the hell should Sophia get preferential treatment, just because she’s your girlfriend?—but I can also imagine the look Jamie will have had on his face should anyone have dared say this, and how quickly they will then have shut their mouths.
I shower and head down to the clubhouse, my skin prickling when I see there are more cars lined up alongside the Humvee Andreas drove in last night. That means Julio is here, no doubt. The guy insisted on breaking up the drive from Cali to New Mexico on account of his considerable size and how uncomfortable it would be to sit for so long without moving around. It actually bought us some breathing space, though. Inviting a cartel boss into your home is sometimes a good way to do business. Sometimes, it’s death wish.
Loud chatter and raucous laughter spills out of the clubhouse when the door swings open and Shay comes barreling out of the building, just before my hand reaches the handle. She almost careens into me, her expression thunderous and angry, her lips compressed into a straight white line.
“Oh look, it’s Sleeping Beauty,” she snaps. “What time do you call—” She stops short of whatever she was about to say, her eyes wide, staring down at something on the ground. “What the fuck?” she whispers. I look for whatever is freaking her out so much, but Shay grabs hold of me by the wrist and raises my arm, a deep frown etched into her face. “What the fuck is this?” she says.
I finally realize what she’s seen, and heat floods my cheeks: the ring. Jamie’s mom’s ring is still sitting on my left hand, shining in the morning light, and Shay is staring at it like it’s the most offensive thing she’s ever seen.
“Shay—”
She digs her fingernails into my skin. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes.” I’m not going to lie to the woman. My relationship with Jamie is none of her fucking business. And the fact that I’m now engaged to him really isn’t either. I should tell her to mind her own damn business, but there’s no point. She’s not stupid, and she would never leave me alone until I told her the truth. Her eyes look like they’re welling up with tears. She opens her mouth to say something to me, but then her gaze grows distant over my shoulder and her jaw snaps shut. I nearly topple over as she barges by me, muttering under her breath.
“Christ, Shay, what the hell is wrong with you?” I spin around, angry enough to chase after her and confront her, but then I see Jamie walking toward me, alone, and I realize why Shay bolted. She’s hardly going to be rude to me if he’s there. He won’t tolerate her being shitty to me, even though I can handle Shay along with anyone else just fine these days. He’s wearing his don’t-fuck-with-me, face as he arrives next to me.
“What was that about?”
“She saw the ring,” I tell him.
“Fuck. The last thing we need today is for her to start causing problems. You okay?” He folds his arms around me, hugging me gently, and he smells of soap and clean clothes. I breathe in, pulling him into my lungs, trying to hold onto this moment a few seconds longer before we have to deal with anything else.
“I’m fine. I just forgot it was there to be honest.”
“Gee. Great.”
I bite down lightly on his pec through his t-shirt. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just…it’s strange that we made this huge decision three days ago and no one else has known about it until now. It kind of felt like it was a secret. Like we shouldn’t be talking about it or something.”
He leans back, looking down at me. “Do you want it to be a secret?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
“Good. After this shit today is over, we’ll celebrate properly. I have a bottle of scotch in the back with your name written all over it.”
I smile, thankful that he seems so sure we’ll still have something to celebrate after our run in with Ramirez is through. So many things could go wrong. There’s every chance we’ll be coming back here later empty-handed. It doesn’t bear thinking about. My father doesn’t deserve this. He lost his youngest daughter, has probably thought she’s dead for the past little while, and now he’s been kidnapped and dragged across three states through no fault of his own.
This is all my fault.
I had a choice back in Ebony Briar, back when Jamie told me I could leave and go home to my family, and I did something very cruel. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing. It seemed noble to remain behind and help the Widow
Makers bring Ramirez to justice, but after a while I began to see how that wasn’t the case at all. Jamie and the rest of the club are resourceful people. They would have found a way to right the wrong that had been done, regardless of whether I was there or not. I chose to stay at that point because I had fallen in love. I chose to stay because leaving seemed impossible, because I would have been leaving my heart behind.
Now I have to fix this. I have to make sure Dad gets home safely to the family he has left, and I have to make sure nothing like this ever happens again. “Is Julio here?” I ask.
Jamie nods. “Yeah. He’s leaving after six tonight. Ramirez has had people out all night, setting explosives down the driveway toward the farmhouse. Looks like he plans on blowing a hole in the damn place if Julio pulls any stunts. We’re going to have to approach over the fields to the rear of the property, and we’re going to have to wait until dark.”
“I didn’t think Ramirez would be laying charges.” This is worrying news, though Jamie doesn’t seem all too fazed by it. He runs a hand over my hair, kissing my temple.
“It’s all good, sugar. We have plenty of explosives of our own.”
******
The day drags unbearably. I can’t help but feel like Ramirez is probably onto us, expecting us to pull a stunt like this with Julio in town. Cade hides Julio’s numerous vehicles out in the desert, so none of Ramirez’s men can spy them from a distance sitting right there in our compound. Perez and his men lounge around in the club house, complaining about the domestic beer Fatty keeps serving them. They must have had five drinks each before Cade politely suggests that they grow the fuck up and get their heads straight for what’s about to go down. Andreas looks like he’s on the verge of jumping out of his seat and starting a brawl, but Julio yells at him in Spanish and his right hand man begrudgingly sits back down.