The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(62)

“I don’t want anyone to ask me about Mexico. I can’t talk about it.”

“That’s fine. I’ll have my mom put out the word.”

A nervous laugh tumbled out of my mouth. “Evan, please, your mom can’t control every conversation.”

“Then you don’t know my mom as well as you think you do.”

I fell silent for a few excruciating seconds as I evaluated my options. I didn’t have any options. I was out of time. I couldn’t hide forever. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Evan yanked my body against his, gathering me into a tight embrace. “Thank God,” he murmured next to my ear. “You’ll see. This party is going to be good for us. It’s the first step to taking our life back.”

I hoped like hell he was right because I couldn’t stand my life anymore. Something had to change.





Chapter Three




Ryker



“What in the hell are you doing here, Rever?”

I tossed my keys on the table in my entryway, and they slid across the empty surface, hitting the wall. My home wasn’t much of a home, more like a pit stop between jobs. After five years, I still hadn’t hung a single picture or bought one rug to cover the hardwood floors. In truth, I thought it was a waste of money and time. I hadn’t found a true home since I graduated from high school. I’d been too busy making a name for myself.

Rever shrugged and crossed one ankle over his thigh. He looked like a younger version of our dad, Ignacio Vargas. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A long, angular nose. Same height. Same build. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had traveled back in time. He even moved his body the same way.

“I was out of options.”

“What made you believe showing up at my house was an option?” We’d never been on friendly terms. We’d come to blows more than once in our life. We were nearly the same age, but we had different mothers, and that made all the difference in the world. Rever was legitimate whereas I was a bastard. His legitimacy entitled him to everything the Vargas Cartel had to offer. My illegitimacy entitled me to nothing. I didn’t even use the Vargas name except when I traveled to Mexico. In the United States, I was Ry Fallon. Fallon was my mom’s maiden name and the name on my birth certificate.

“The process of elimination.” He stood up and crossed the room. “I couldn’t stay in Mexico, and you’re the only other family I have.”

“Why can’t you stay in Mexico?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

I folded my arms across my chest. I hadn’t seen Rever in over three years, and I couldn’t claim I’d missed him. “I’m sure Ignacio will forgive you. He always does. This time won’t be any different.” My words were unintentionally bitter. I didn’t envy Rever. I never truly wanted what he had. The burden of leading the Vargas Cartel wasn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy, and even with our never-ending feud, Rever didn’t qualify as an enemy. He was something in between.

Rever had caused more than his fair share of trouble in the last ten years. Rather than following in Ignacio’s footsteps, he barely showed a passing interest in becoming the successor to the Vargas Cartel. He overindulged in everything.

Drugs.

Women.

Gambling.

His arrogance landed him in a U.S. prison three months ago for money laundering, and I had to negotiate his release.

“I’m done with the Vargas Cartel. I don’t want to play by Ignacio’s rules anymore.”

I snorted. “You never played by his rules. That’s how you ended up in jail.”

Rever fisted his hands, and he smiled coldly. “You want to be the heir apparent for the Vargas Cartel? Well, you can have it. I don’t have any interest in killing people for perceived slights and smuggling drugs—”

“Exactly. You’re just interested in using the drugs and spending the money. You don’t want any of the responsibilities that go along with it.”

He snatched his black leather jacket off the back of a chair. “You’re right.”

I rocked back on my heels and narrowed my eyes. “Right about what?”

“I shouldn’t have come here.” His gaze drifted to the floor. “For some reason, I got it in my head that you’d help me, but apparently, I was wrong. You don’t consider me family. You never have.” Rever stuffed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket.

“That’s not true,” I growled. “I negotiated your release. I didn’t have to do it, but I did. I got you out of that prison. I could’ve walked away and told Ignacio to find someone else to help you.”

“You should’ve left me there. Ignacio is going to kill me.”

“No, he won’t,” I said with absolute certainty. Ignacio had done a lot of horrible things in his life, but he’d never purposely hurt his children. As much as he loved the cartel, he loved his children more—especially Rever. Sure, he’d make Rever pay for what he did, but he wouldn’t kill him.

Rever shoved his hands into his pockets. “Once he knows everything, he will kill me,” he said quietly.

I didn’t say anything for a drawn out second as I ran my hand down the side of my face. “Everything? What do you mean by everything?” I finally asked, pushing my apprehension aside. My sources confirmed Rever’s account of the events from the time he was arrested until he was released. According to them, he hadn’t revealed Senator Deveron’s connection to the Vargas Cartel, but what did I know? Sources lied all the time.