The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(163)

I nodded, my insides coiling from the sincerity in his eyes. “Thanks, Noah. I appreciate the offer. I really do, but I knew when I chose Ryker that everything wouldn’t be sunshine and rainbows. I’m not going to back out now.” He opened his mouth to respond, and I shook my head. “I don’t want to back out.”

He sighed and walked toward the door. “All right, Hattie. I won’t say anything else. Just know the option is always there whether it’s two months or two years from now.”

My heart constricted at his protective words. “Why do you want to help me?”

He lifted one shoulder, a faint smile on his lips. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Do you want to elaborate?”

“Maybe some other time.”

I nodded. “How long are you sticking around here?”

“Actually, I’m leaving this afternoon. I have a new assignment overseas.”

His gaze lingered on me for a moment and then he closed the door softly. I sat on the edge of the bed and bowed my head. I hoped Ryker made good on his promises because I had successfully alienated everyone who had ever cared about me.





Chapter Twenty-Five




Ryker



Rever finished tying Emanuel’s legs and arms to the chair and then he rolled his sleeves to his elbows.

“Point the camera over here,” Rever said as he pulled the pillowcase off Emanuel’s head. “And make sure you get his entire body on the screen.”

After we arrived at the compound yesterday, we did a half-assed job at patching up Emanuel’s wounds, and left him shackled to the wall in the same shack where I’d housed Hattie months ago. Today, we needed to do everything possible to get Emanuel to confess on tape. We wouldn’t kill him, though. We’d save that decision for Ignacio.

I angled the tripod to capture Emanuel’s entire body on the video and peeked through the lens. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Good.” Rever twirled his knife through his fingers like a baton. “I think I’ll spare you the explanation of what’s going to happen now,” Rever said as he circled Emanuel’s chair. “We all have intimate knowledge of how these types of interrogations work.”

Emanuel spit on the floor in front of him, narrowly missing Rever’s shoes. “Chinga tu madre.”

Rever chuckled. “You’re lucky I’m not very fond of my mother either or I might be tempted to cut off your cock for talking about her like that.”

Emanuel’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You can do whatever you want. I won’t tell you anything.”

“How do you think we should start?” Rever ran the knife along the tips of his fingers, testing the sharpness of the blade. “I’ve always been a fan of starting small.” He shrugged. “You know…fingers, toes, ears. I don’t want him to lose consciousness too soon.”

I pointed to the small water buckets lining the wall. “I’ve always wanted to see waterboarding in action. I’d like to know what all the fuss is about.”

Rever sucked his lips into his mouth as he angled his head to the side. “Good idea. I think you’re right. It’s an efficient method of breaking someone without causing a mortal injury. Most of the time, anyway.”

I lifted the bucket of water. “Do you want to tip the chair back or pour the water?”

“I’ll hold the chair,” Rever said. He tipped chair backward, lifting the front legs off the ground so that Emanuel’s lungs were higher than his mouth to avoid total suffocation.

I pulled a thin white rag from my back pocket and draped it over his eyes. I lifted the bucket and poured water on the rag. With one hand, Rever slowly lowered the saturated rag until it covered Emanuel’s mouth and his upturned nose. He put his hand over the wet rag, suffocating him for thirty seconds to increase the carbon dioxide level in Emanuel’s bloodstream. When Rever lifted his hand, I dumped water over the rag for sixty seconds. Then, Rever ripped the rag off his face. Emanuel gagged, sucking in three giant mouthfuls of air. He slapped the rag over his face and started the process again. We repeated the entire thing a half dozen times until Emanuel’s lips were blue, and his entire body trembled.

Rever slammed all four legs of Emanuel’s chair on the ground. “Are you working with Juan Alvarez?”

“Fuck you,” Emanuel said, his voice hoarse.

Rever crouched on the floor and plunged his knife under Emanuel big toenail. He twisted the knife in a seesawing motion until the toenail peeled off Emanuel’s foot.

A scream echoed through the room, and Emanuel jerked against his restraints. Blood pooled on the cement floor beneath his foot.

“Do you want to answer me now?” Rever barked.

Emanuel glared, his entire body vibrating with anger and hatred. He clenched his jaw, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Go to hell! You can do this for days, and I won’t tell you a damn thing.”

“My pleasure. I was just getting started,” Rever said, thrusting his knife under the next toenail. Bile rolled in my stomach as another bloody nail skittered across the floor, brushing the tip of my shoe. Emanuel sagged in his chair.

It didn’t look like Rever minded the violence. In fact, he seemed to be in his element. Inhaling through my mouth, I suppressed the urge to vomit on the floor. Emanuel had to believe Rever and I were united in everything in order for this to work. Likewise, I’d be dumb to expose any weaknesses to Rever. We were brothers, but loyalty only stretched so far in our world. Loyalties shifted like the wind. Money and power spoke louder than blood ties.