The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(128)

“No matter what happens after this, remember I love you, Hattie. I always will,” he said, interrupting the strained silence.

I bowed my head, resting it against the tops of my knees as I squeezed the phone like it was my one and only lifeline. I rubbed the budding ache in the center of my chest with the palm of my hand. This conversation felt awkward and wooden, and yet, I wanted to snag his words out of the air, and put them in my pocket forever.

I closed my eyes and summoned his image. In my mind, I traced the angular line of his jaw, down the strong column of his neck, following it over the smooth rise of his muscular chest and around to the thick bands of muscles bracketing his spine. I licked my lips as I recalled the salty taste of his skin. I inhaled, pretending his familiar scent filled my nose instead of the stench of death and despair. I missed him. I needed him.

“Yeah, I know. I believe you. I believe in us,” I said.

Even though I denied him the reciprocal profession of love I thought he wanted to hear, it didn’t stop the words from getting stuck on repeat, struggling to escape the confines of my mind.

I love you.

I’ll always love you.

Forever.

The words simultaneously slaughtered and fortified my soul, but I didn’t feel like I had the strength to console him or offer him forgiveness. We both had so many sins on our hands. We were broken, I realized with sudden clarity, and I didn’t know how we’d fix it. I just knew we had to find a way.

“I’ll see you soon, Hattie. Stay strong. Keep fighting.”

“Okay, I will. Bye, Ryker,” I murmured almost soundlessly.

I powered off the phone and hid it in the zippered pocket of my running shorts. I didn’t want to hang up. It could be the last time I would ever hear his voice or hear him declare his love.

I closed my eyes, willing my brain turn off, even for a few hours, but sleep eluded me. Visions of Ryker and me skated through my mind. Fragments of conversations rang in my ears. The feel of his fingers ghosting over my skin assaulted my senses. After minutes that moved like hours, I fell asleep.





Chapter Six




Ryker



Groaning, I clutched the sides of my skull. Why did I think it was a good idea to drink last night? I opened, then immediately closed my eyes. What the hell? The morning sun streamed through the open window. The next time I had a date with a bottle of tequila I needed to remember to shut the f*cking blinds.

Bang.

And put in some earplugs. I curled my pillow around my head to block out the sound and the sun.

Bang.

“Ryker, are you awake?” Ignacio shouted through the door.

I added taping a do not disturb sign on the door to my list of things to do next time I drank too much.

“I’ll be up in ten minutes. Leave me alone.”

The door flung opening, clattering against the wall. “You should’ve been up two hours ago,” Ignacio barked.

“Yeah. Yeah,” I grumbled. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“Almost nine o’clock in the morning.”

I whipped my head around. “Seriously?” Over ninety-six hours had passed. My stomach rebelled, both from the tequila and the thought of Juan Alvarez torturing Hattie while I drank myself into a forced slumber. God, I was a f*cking prick.

He nodded without saying a word.

I scratched the side of my neck. “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

“I didn’t realize you were still sleeping until twenty minutes ago.”

I braced my head in my hands. It throbbed like a motherf*cker. I drank one too many shots of bad tequila last night. I wasn’t my finest moment, but I needed to do something to stop the regrets and guilt from circling in my brain like a bird of prey, waiting to devour me in a moment of weakness.

“How much time until the Americans get here?” I asked as I pulled yesterday’s black shirt over my head.

“They’re already here.”

“A half hour early,” I mumbled more to myself than him.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you offer double the normal rate. They don’t want to piss you off.”

I yanked my jeans up my legs and fastened the button. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Ignacio’s dark eyes traveled the length of my body, and then he shook his head. “You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell,” I said as shoved my feet into my shoes. “But it’s nothing a cup of coffee won’t fix.”

“And you think it’s still a good idea to charge into an Alvarez stronghold tomorrow?”

“Tonight.”

“Emanuel said everything was going down tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

His nostrils flared as he sucked his lips into his mouth. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

He leaned against the doorjamb. “There’s always a choice.”

“No.” I shook my head. “There’s really not. I’m not going to leave Hattie there for a second longer than I have to.” Also, I didn’t fully trust Emanuel, so I’d misled him about my intentions for as long as possible.

Ignacio’s lips twisted like he’d sucked on a lemon. “Then try to stop yourself from drowning in a bottle of tequila again today. I don’t need a dead son. I need a son to help me with business. You need to hold up your side of the bargain. Acting like goddamn * won’t help Hattie or me.”