The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(52)

“You’re leaving tomorrow. Before breakfast. It’s all arranged,” he muttered.

I clutched the folds of my skirt and nodded, unable to look at him even if it was only his back. “Okay.” I forced myself to remain calm and keep my voice even. He scared me and tied my mouth in knots. When I looked at him, I saw a monster. A soulless, heartless monster.

He cast a glance over his shoulder, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his normally grim mouth. “We finished negotiations yesterday. I planned to tell you at dinner last night, but you declined as usual.”

“Sorry,” I lied, but I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want to be alone with him. Even sharing the same room and air filled me with a sickening rage.

“No, you’re not.” He spun around and leaned against the wall. “I get it. You think I’m a bad person because you don’t think I feel any guilt over the things I’ve done, the people I’ve killed.”

The statement hung in the air, weighing it down. I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my head on my knees. “Is there any other way to look at it?” I asked, my voice hardly a rasp.

Pushing away from the wall, he expelled a heavy breath and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I improve the lives of the members of my cartel. I make sure they adhere to a code of ethics, which includes embracing family values. None of my members abuse drugs, and if they do, we clean them up and then they work for me to repay the favor of saving their lives. My members attend mass regularly. I give loans and gifts to local schools, businesses, farmers, and churches. We are so much more than a cartel smuggling drugs. We are a social organization. We bring order and meaning into the lives of the poor.”

“Really?” Stunned by his admission, I didn’t know what to say. I never considered a cartel might do as much good and as it does bad. Not everything was black and white.

“I help people. The Vargas Cartel is a necessary evil, but you wouldn’t understand. How could you? You’ve never lived in Mexico. You’ve never been poor and without resources.”

“No, I haven’t,” I admitted.

“We don’t kill women. We don’t kill innocent people, only those who deserve to die.”

“Nobody deserves to die.” My gut lurched as I said the words. I killed a man. I did it in self-defense, but maybe I had lost the moral authority to judge Ignacio the minute I pulled the trigger.

“Your innocence is almost charming.” A condescending smile spread across his face. “Have you talked to Ryker?”

I shook my head. “No, not since he showed me to this room, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

A lopsided grin pulled at his mouth for a second. “The cameras.”

“Yes, the cameras,” I snapped, not even trying to moderate my voice.

“So you’re planning to walk away without saying another word to him.”

I swallowed over the sudden tightness in my throat. “That’s what he wants.”

His nearly black eyebrows arched. “Are you sure about that?

“Yes.” My voice faltered, and I sounded unsure, confused even. “But even if it isn’t, you made it clear that you’d ruin my life if I didn’t stay away from him.”

He nodded. “Ah, we’re back to the video and the cameras.” He strolled across the room, his hands in his pockets. “Maybe that’s what is wrong with your generation.”

“What?” I answered, not understanding why I bothered prolonging this conversation. How in the hell would he know if something was wrong with my generation? He was a sick and twisted murderer.

“You’ve been handed everything without working for it, so you’re afraid to go after what you really want in life. You settle for mediocrity when you should go after your dreams. Mediocre spouses. Mediocre careers. Mediocre lives.” He shook his head, disdain dripping from his voice. “How boring.”

“And murdering your way to the top of a cartel was your dream?” I taunted, the smugness in Ignacio’s voice grating on my already threadbare nerves.

“Being the best at whatever I did was my dream.”

“And you’re the best.”

“I’d like to think so.” The declaration sounded almost serene. He opened the door. “Have your things packed and be waiting by the front door at seven in the morning. Take care, Miss Covington, and good luck with your life.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “With whatever you choose or don’t choose.”

What the hell did that mean? “And if I choose Ryker?”

“Then you choose Ryker.”

I rubbed my hands together. “You won’t do anything to stop me.”

“No. I got what I wanted.”

“And what was that?”

“Your compliance until I could secure Rever’s release. I’ve secured his release, so what you do or don’t do isn’t my concern.”





Chapter Twenty-Six




“Ignacio plans to release me tomorrow,” I said when he reached the end of the pool. Drops of water glistened like stars on his tanned skin.

His muscles tensed, but he didn’t acknowledge me. He dove back under the surface of the water, going back and forth at least six more times. Desperate for him to acknowledge me, to talk to me, I shrugged off my sundress, exposing my white bikini. I lowered myself into the pool, waiting by the edge for him to finish his laps.