Vice(79)

Natalia seems less fragile. She hasn’t slept at all. I feel her eyes on me, burning holes into the side of my head as I talk with Carnie, but I make a point of pretending that I don’t notice. She needs time to figure out what she wants to do, and I think her intense study of me is a part of that problem solving. She has options open to her now. She’s entered the States illegally, but that can be fixed. Jamie has enough dirt to bury a number of politicians in the state of New Mexico; a green card shouldn’t be too hard to drum up once a few phone calls have been made. So she can either stay here in New Mexico, here with me, or she can go somewhere else, explore the rest of the country, see what there is to be seen. It’s her call. I won’t ask anything of her.

At the very back of the plane, Freddie buries his face in his hands, taking ragged, uneven, bottomless breaths. When he uncovers his face, sitting back in his chair, his eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are bright red, his hands trembling like crazy.

“I can’t believe it,” he says. “I seriously can’t f*cking believe it. I never thought I’d step foot on American soil again. I thought for sure I was going to die on that godforsaken mountainside.” He’s wearing a t-shirt Carnie had in his backpack, plain white, now spackled with flecks of blood, and I get the feeling the poor bastard’s spent a lot of time either naked or dressed in a full suit over the last three years. I can tell by the way he keeps running his fingers over the hem of the t-shirt that it’s a novelty to him.

“What do you plan on doing now?” I ask him. He looks stunned at the very thought of having a say in the matter.

“I don’t know. I hadn’t gotten that far. I’ve been so focused on getting out that I never really considered what would come after that.”

“Where are you from?” Carnie asks.

“Texas. Not far from the border of Mexico. I’m not going back there, though. No way.”

There’s a story there. Has to be. From the anger and the pain in his eyes, the idea of going back to his hometown fills Freddie with the same horror and panic as the idea of staying in Orellana probably would. There will be time for questions later, though. Right now, I just want to get Laura and Natalia into the Widow Makers compound. I won’t feel that they’re one hundred percent safe until those gates have closed behind us, and the outside world can no longer reach us.

Carnie navigates the plane toward the fenced-in structure ahead of us, and I can make out a line of people already waiting at the gate for us. I asked Carnie not to say anything to Jamie about Laura. My friend has spent just as long looking for her as I have, he has every right to know she’s alive, but telling him over the radio just seemed wrong somehow. The plane stops a hundred feet from the compound—protocol in case there’s trouble at the clubhouse, or equally any trouble on board the plane—and we begin to disembark.

A huge plume of dust kicks up in the air, spiralling up toward the sky as a masked rider burns toward us on a motorcycle. It’s Jamie, of course. I know from the sound of his bike’s engine. I also know it’s him because he would never allow anyone else to ride out here. He’s always the first to face any potential danger, before the other members of the club. That’s why sending me alone without him to Ecuador was so damned hard for him.

Both Natalia and Freddie look worried, while Laura, leaning against me for support, looks a little apprehensive herself. “Is that—” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I answer. “He’s going to shit the bed.”

“I can’t believe it. A motorcycle club.” She shakes her head. And then, “He’s going to be mad at me,” she says quietly.

“What? Why the hell would he be mad at you?” I hug her holding her to me, and I can feel her trembling.

“We fought the last time we saw each other. I was angry with him. I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“Do you really think he’s been clinging onto a handful of angry words for the past seven years? God, you’re crazy, girl. You’re f*cking crazy.”

She clings to me, burying her face into my chest as Jamie gets closer. The grunt and snarl of his engine fills the air, drowning out the thrum of the plane’s engine when he arrives. Suddenly all is quiet as both machines are powered down. Jamie hops off his motorcycle, ice blue eyes roving over our party, studying each person in turn, assessing the situation, until finally his gaze falls on me…and the woman in my arms.

“Cade?” he says. “What…?” He’s confused, and I don’t blame him. Fuck. I’m still confused, myself. It’s a lot to take in, even though I was there to witness everything unfold myself. Jamie steps forward, and then stops again, raising his hands, threading his fingers into his hair, interlocking them behind his head. “What the f*ck?” he whispers. “I thought…”

Laura hasn’t turned to face him yet. She’s still hiding in my shirt, but her identity must be obvious to my best friend, who has known my sister since before any of us could walk.

“What happened?” he asks me.

“It’s a long, weird story,” I reply. “I’ll fill you in once we’re inside.” From the very brief conversation we had on the plane, I know that Ocho turned against Fernando when he cut out his tongue. That he has been like a protective father figure to my sister ever since he helped her fake her death at the Villalobos estate. I’ll explain all of this to him and more. For the time being, Jamie just nods. He looks like he’s in shock.