The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(134)

I paused at the edge of the tree line, just out of the line of sight of the safe house. Dim yellow lights flickered from the windows, taunting me. I held up my open hand, signaling for everyone to stop. I crept forward, keeping inside the shadows, surveying the exterior of the building. After I had made a circle around the entire perimeter of the house, I lifted my hand, signaling that four people were outside the safe house. Then, I raised my arm above my head, pointing my index finger straight up and my thumb parallel to the ground, indicating the guards had rifles.

I didn’t know what we’d encounter inside, but for now, we outnumbered them. I sucked in a gust of sticky, humid air, struggling to unravel all the twisted emotions and thoughts flitting through my mind. Conflicted emotions and dread of the future would only cloud my judgment. I needed to be unfeeling. Mechanical.

If Hattie were dead, I’d be irreversibly broken. Life wouldn’t be worth living. If Hattie was alive, I had to destroy us, and I’d live the rest of my life without her. Either outcome would suck. At least if she were alive, I’d know I had done everything I could for her. She’d still be breathing the same air and inhabiting the same world as me. That had to count for something.

With a flick of my hand, I waved my piecemeal army forward.

Crouched low, I gripped my X95 and mentally flipped my middle finger at the angel of death. My soldiers flanked me in a u-shaped formation. I pointed toward the breaker box at the back of the house. Noah would flip the breaker, blanketing the safe house in darkness before we fired a single shot.

We moved stealthily forward, our black clothing and camouflage face paint blending into the inky night. Sweat prickled my skin. The hair on the back of my neck stiffened. My ears devoured the noise of every branch crunching under our booted feet, every exhalation whistling through the air, and every rustle of fabric against fabric as we forged ahead.

Time to get Hattie.

Time to destroy the Alvarez Cartel once and for all.

I’d kill every last one of them until I didn’t have any strength left in my body.

With every step, anger sizzled in my veins. My lips curled up over my teeth as I inhaled through my nose. The thirst for revenge rippled through my muscles. I smashed every civilized thought from my brain. I courted the Vargas beast inside my soul until inhumane savagery pumped through my body.

The lights in the house disappeared, steeping us in total darkness.

It was show time.





Chapter Nine




Hattie



With my hair still damp, my eyes popped open. My heart fluttered. Springs dug into my back. I pushed onto my elbows. I didn’t know what had woken me. I didn’t know whether it was day or night. I recalled climbing into the cot wearing a threadbare, dingy robe when I finished showering, but after that, nothing.

I scrambled to my knees. My ears throbbed, desperately searching for the faintest noise. I scanned the room, diving in and out of the shadows looking for something. Anything. Anyone, but the room was as empty as I remembered.

Rubbing my eyes, I tipped my head to the ceiling. Then, I remembered Raul’s phone. Shit! I forgot to turn it on.

I scrambled to my feet and darted across the room. My body buzzed with adrenaline as I unzipped the pocket of my shorts, pulled out the phone and powered it on. Air rocketed out of my lungs when I saw Ryker’s text.



I’m coming for you tonight. Be ready.



Clutching the phone, I ran to the window and shoved the curtains to the side. I couldn’t see anything. Crosshatched bars obscured the view and the miniscule rectangles of sky between looked like segmented inkblots. I ran back to the bathroom and slipped on my stained running shorts under my robe and waited.

At first, I thought something dropped on the floor. Then, the sound happened again. Rapid-fire gunshots exploded one after another outside.

Pop, pop, pop.

Pause.

Pop!

It was happening. Ryker was here. He came just like he promised.

Minutes crawled like hours, as I huddled next to the door waiting for Ryker to find me. I used the light from Raul’s phone to illuminate the room. Gunshots blended into one long, deafening roar of violence. I twisted my hands in my robe over and over until the seam along the side split. My chest heaved in short bursts. I should’ve made an effort to regulate my breathing, but I was incapable of doing anything except staring at the door.

Then came the shouts, screams and cries of pain. Incoherent Spanish curses floated up the stairs. For the hundredth time in the last three or four months, I wished I had taken Spanish lessons instead of French.

“Pudrete en el infierno.”

“Chingada Madre.”

Fleetingly, I wondered what would happen if everyone died. Would I be stuck in this room until I died of starvation? Nobody except Ryker knew I was in Mexico. I told my parents I’d taken a road trip to clear my thoughts. Would the police or somebody else eventually show up? Or would the foliage grow over the building, entombing us in vines?

I surveyed the contents of the room, looking for a weapon. I flipped over the cot and kicked at the metal bars trying to free something. Nothing budged. I ran to the bathroom and switched on the light. Nothing happened. My hearted squeezed. Somebody had cut the power.

Squinting, I located the showerhead, then jumped and yanked on the metal arm protruding from the ceiling. Hanging on with all my body weight, I swung back and forth. The pipe creaked, and then I stumbled to my knees with the showerhead in my hand.