The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(44)

“Do you have your gun?” Ignacio asked Ryker the minute we stepped out the front door of the small house we’d slept in last night.

Ryker lifted the hem of his shirt, flashing his gun.

“I thought you left that on the nightstand last night.”

“I did, but then I put it back on after you fell asleep.”

“Did you sleep with it loaded?” I blurted out.

“Yep.”

“It could’ve discharged while we were sleeping.”

“I’m a professional, Miss Covington. Don’t worry about me,” Ryker said mockingly, his eyes unnervingly distant. He treated me as if I were the dumbest person in the world, and maybe I was, or at least when it came to him. He charmed me, kissed me, f*cked me, and then dropped me cold every single time—but I still couldn’t muster the willpower to do anything except follow in his wake like a lost puppy. What was wrong with me?

I didn’t bother responding, neither with words or a facial expression. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to pretend like I meant nothing. Fuck him. When we reached the street, six black SUVs idled next to the curb. At least ten men dressed in fatigues stood beside unopened doors. Just like the gunmen yesterday, they were armed with assault weapons, except these men also wore flak jackets with FEDI inscribed across their chest.

“What does FEDI mean?” I asked Ryker.

“Fuerzas Especiales de Ignacio, or Ignacio’s Special Forces.”

I guess that explained why the town inhabitants hovered near the doors of their homes and businesses, gawking at the Vargas Cartel’s show of force. Regret twisted in my gut. I hated that I played a part in lying to these people, and in doing so, I had invited the Vargas Cartel into their small town. Who knows what sort of atrocities they had committed here? I’m sure the Vargas Cartel had victimized someone’s son, daughter, or husband. I didn’t know a lot about the Mexican drug wars, but I did know it had claimed thousands of innocent and not so innocent lives.

I kept my head buried against my chest, avoiding the curious and accusing stares burning up every inch of my exposed skin. Ryker slipped into the front passenger seat of the first SUV. I reached for the door handle of the same vehicle.

Ignacio snagged my wrist. “No. You’re driving with me.”

My eyes darted to Ryker, but he slammed the door without acknowledging me. I swallowed back my fear of being alone with Ignacio, and I nodded.

Guiding me down the uneven sidewalk, Ignacio opened the back door of the next vehicle and gestured for me to get in.





Chapter Twenty-One




Ignacio didn’t utter a single word for the first ten minutes of the drive back to the villa. Part of me should’ve appreciated his silence, but I knew he had something to say, and waiting for him to start talking rattled my nerves. If he wanted to yell at me, interrogate me, or hurt me, I wished he’d go ahead and do it.

Turning my head toward the window, I watched the blurred landscape as the car ate up the distance. I concentrated on keeping my breathing even and my mind clear. Ignacio had ruled the Vargas Cartel for a long time. He knew exactly how to torture me without saying a word or lifting a finger. Waiting for his judgment tangled my nerves and transported me on a horror-filled journey of what-ifs.

“I’m sorry I cut your neck. At the time I believed it was necessary, but I don’t like that it happened. I don’t like to hurt women.”

I turned to face him so fast, I probably had whiplash. “What?” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I had a few theories about why he wanted me ride in the car with him, but an apology certainly wasn’t one of them.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I did it to make a point, but I should have found a different way to do it…one that didn’t involve physically harming you. Hurting you wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Okay.” I tapped my fingers on the gray leather seat, trying to release some nervous energy. “Thanks, I guess.”

“As a parent, I would do almost anything for my children.”

I nodded, but I didn’t answer. What the hell did he expect me to say—that I forgave him for orchestrating my abduction because he wanted to rescue his son? Not f*cking likely.

Ignacio shifted in his seat. “I couldn’t let Rever rot away in an American prison, regardless of what he did. For better or worse, I love him unconditionally. Ryker too.”

“What did he do?” It wasn’t my business, but I wanted to know the crime he committed. My comfort and my future were being sacrificed to resurrect his freedom. In my opinion, that sacrifice entitled me to something.

“He was arrested in Las Vegas for money laundering.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help it. The charge was hardly surprising or unexpected. Of course he was arrested for something related to the criminal activities of the Vargas Cartel. Ignacio’s words led me to believe he did something else—something unforgivable. “That’s what happens when you launder money for a drug cartel. How did he get caught?” ”

“He exchanged fifty million dollars for a gambling credit in a casino on the Strip. He lost forty percent of it. The casino returned half of his losses in the form of luxury cars and gifts, then cut him a check for the balance of his gambling credit,” Ignacio answered, curling his hands into fists beside his pants.