The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(114)

“Move.” I pounded my hand against the hood. “Get in the car. We have to leave now.”

Car tires squealed around the corner, and I dove in the front seat. Rever grabbed Anna’s wrist and yanked her down the steps. She slapped his chest and clawed at his hand as she tried to break free. “He’s my brother. I can’t leave him. He’s bleeding. Oh my God. This my fault. This was a dumb idea. I knew it.”

Rever shoved her in the backseat and jumped in beside her. He looped his arms around her waist and rocked her back and forth. “It’s going to be okay. It’s just a flesh wound. Nothing more,” he whispered next to her ear.

A car swerved around us, coming to an abrupt stop perpendicular to the front bumper of our car, stopping the flow of traffic. I cranked the wheel to the right and slammed on the gas pedal. Our car jumped the curb, and my head whipped to the side. Sparks flew as the metal car rims grinded against the church steps. The minute we passed the car blocking the street, I jerked the steering wheel to the right, and we were back on the asphalt again.

Pop.

Pop. Pop. Pop!

Gunshots shattered the back window. Little slivers of glass showered over Rever and Anna’s heads like rice at a wedding recessional.

“Drive faster,” Rever barked, sheltering Anna’s body with his.

I wove through the steady stream of cars, scooters, and golf carts clogging the main road circling the tiny island. “I’m going as fast as I can,” I said through clenched teeth. “Take this and aim for their tires. Don’t kill anyone,” I yelled, tossing my gun over my shoulder. “We need to get them off our tail if we want to get into that helicopter and off this island in one piece.”

Rever shoved Anna to the floorboard of the car and fired shot after shot out the back window until the road behind us cleared. I turned the corner and slammed on the brakes. Emilio’s helicopter was waiting at the designated meeting spot. The roar of the blades drowned out the sounds of the ocean crashing against the slick, black rocks.

“Hurry. They will be here any second,” I yelled as I flung open the door and ran to the helicopter, not waiting for Rever and Anna. He could take care of her. I’d done all I could for them.

As soon as we made it back to the Vargas compound, I was done with all of this shit, forever. I had supported my brother. I dropped everything to be at Ignacio’s bedside, and he shoved it back in my face. I’d walked the line between two worlds and two lives for too many years to count. I couldn’t do it anymore. I had a kid on the way, and if Ignacio or Rever wanted anything else from me, then tough shit. I’d given enough. Sacrificed enough.

My hands shook as I buckled my seatbelt. My eyes strained for any sign of Anna’s security detail. Rever ducked his head and jogged to the door with Anna in his arms.

The minute Rever closed the door behind him, the helicopter lifted from the ground, and I took my first real breath since walking out of the hotel room this morning.

Still sobbing, Anna buried her head in Rever’s lap. Rever stared out the window, his hand noticeably shaking as he stroked her hair.

“We did it,” Rever said, his voice raspy.

“We did, but the next part is going to be the hardest,” I replied, my eyes still trained on the shrinking island.

“What do you mean?”

“We have to wait for Juan Alvarez to retaliate.”

“Do you think he’ll do something?”

I snorted. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s Ignacio’s problem. Anna and I will be gone tomorrow and so will you and Hattie. Ignacio can deal with it. Violence and revenge are his specialty.”

“I hope you’re right.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven




Hattie



Ryker didn’t come back to the hotel last night. He texted me late in the afternoon saying he wouldn’t be back until sometime this morning. He and Rever went to visit Ignacio. Ryker told me he didn’t want me to go with him, which was fine. I never wanted to step foot inside the Vargas compound again, much less see Ignacio. Ryker said he wasn’t doing well, but that didn’t soften my opinion of him.

As I exited the hotel, I turned on my iPod. I needed to run. I needed fresh air. We’d been in Mexico for almost four days, and I hadn’t done much of anything except work on a research paper for my graduate degree. My back ached from being hunched over my laptop. Ryker warned me not to stray too far from the hotel grounds, but I hadn’t jogged in days. I didn’t plan to be gone long. Maybe thirty or forty minutes, and we were in the middle of Playa del Carmen, a tourist destination, not a cartel stronghold.

I rounded the corner, increasing my speed. At six thirty in the morning, the streets were empty except for a few people standing at the bus stop. I liked exploring the town this way. I could see traces of the sleepy fishing village before the tourist industry crept southward from Cancun.

With each stride, my feet pounded against the uneven sun-bleached pavement. Music screamed from my earbuds, blocking out the world. The faint tinge of ocean air tickled my nose. Sweat beaded at my temples. The humid air stuck in my lungs. Even this early in the morning, my clothes clung to my body like a second skin. I’d never get used to this weather.

I vaulted on and off the narrow sidewalk, avoiding signs, trashcans, and planters. My legs burned, but I pushed harder, hammering away at the cobwebs in my brain from too many sleepless nights and too much anxiety.