Confessed (Vargas Cartel #3) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hattie

“Hi,” I said as I bent to kiss my mom’s stiff cheek.

My mom smiled tepidly. “It’s good to see you, Hattie. We were beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” I forced a smile on my face as I unfolded my napkin and arranged it on my lap. “I’m only a couple of minutes late. It took longer than I thought to get here.”

“Don’t pick on her, Elaine,” my dad griped, his eyes narrowing fractionally. “We weren’t waiting more than a couple of minutes. You’re going to scare her away again.”

I glanced back and forth between my mom and dad. Normally, they presented a unified front, but something told me that wasn’t the case right now. The tension between them was palpable.

My mom cocked her perfectly coiffed blonde head to the side. “She should show us the respect we deserve. She disappeared on a road trip without a word. Then, she didn’t bother to come see us for a week after she returned home.”

I tugged on the edge of the sleeve of my silk blouse. It barely covered my burn marks, but wearing a long-sleeved shirt in the middle of the summer would look suspicious. “You’re right. I should’ve stopped by the house, but I’ve been busy.”

My mom’s sculpted eyebrow lifted. “Doing what? You haven’t touched base with your professors in three weeks. You haven’t called Evan. I don’t even know where you’re living. I called Vera, and she hasn’t seen you either.”

The metal legs scraped across the hardwood floor as I slid my chair away from the table and tossed my napkin on the table. Anger lit my veins on fire. How dare she pry into my life? How dare she bring up Evan? “I don’t know why I bothered to come here tonight. For some reason, I keep giving you the benefit of the doubt.” I shook my head. “I should know better by now. I need to stop wasting my time.”

My mom stared down her nose at me. “I could say the same thing verbatim to you.”

I leaned back in my chair. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s time you stopped this nonsense and pulled your life together. You’re all over the place. You got engaged. You dropped out of your master’s program. You terminated your internship. You ended your engagement. You moved in with Vera. You reenrolled in the master’s program. You disappeared on a road trip.” She punctuated each point with a flick of her blood-red fingernails.

“Nonsense?” I echoed. “In case you’ve forgotten, I experienced some traumatic things lately, not that you care. All you care about is preventing the chaos from spilling over into your perfect little world.”

My dad slammed his hand on the table. The water glasses shook, and the silverware rattled. “Dammit, Elaine, this is not the time to scrutinize every decision she’s made in the past few months. We agreed we’d have dinner without diving into anything confrontational. Give her time to come to terms with everything and put her life back together. You need to know when to stop pushing so hard. She’ll come around.”

“She’s had plenty of time,” my mom mumbled under her breath.

Even though my gut churned with resentment, I schooled my face into a blank mask, trying to hide all my emotions. My mom preyed on insecurities. “I don’t need time. My life is just fine.” I lifted the glass of ice water to my lips.

My mom gasped. “Are you engaged?”

My stomach dropped. I’d forgotten to take off Ryker’s engagement ring before dinner. I’d been running late after another unsuccessful meeting with a small D.C. magazine. I stared at my parents for a long moment, then cleared my throat. “Kind of,” I answered, inwardly cursing the tremble in my voice. Ryker and I weren’t technically engaged, but I couldn’t explain the details of our promise to each other.

My dad pursed his lips. “Kind of? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re still working things out. You know, school, living arrangements and other stuff,” I murmured, hating, and not for the first time, that things between us weren’t simple.

My mom pressed her hand to her chest, her eyes wide with panic. “You haven’t talked to Evan for weeks. What’s going on?”

Twirling a strand of hair around my finger, I squinted across the room, trying to find anything to look at other than either of my parents’ faces. “This has nothing to do with Evan. I met someone else.”

“When?”

I moved my hands into my lap and twisted the ends of my napkin. “I’ve known him for a few months,” I answered vaguely. “I know it seems sudden, but I love him.”

My mom’s brows knitted together, disgust contorting her lips into a scowl. “You met him when you were engaged to Evan?”

I sat awkwardly, heat rushing to my face under the intense stare of both my parents. Part of me longed to burst out laughing and claim the whole thing was a joke gone awry, but I knew I couldn’t. This was just the beginning. I needed to break my parents’ hold on me once and for all and make my own decisions. As a child, my mom had used every psychological trick in her arsenal to mold me into the person she wanted me to be. The moment I left for college, I started pushing back, but I had never managed to eliminate her control entirely.

I squeezed my hands into tight balls and drew in a deep breath through my nose, summoning my willpower. “No, before that.”

“I don’t understand,” my mom said, her voice hushed as though she suddenly realized she didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.

“What’s to understand? I met someone I want to spend my life with,” I snarled, unable to control my growing temper. “You don’t need to understand. You need to support me.”

“But you haven’t even introduced him to us, and I’m not sure you’ve recovered.” She leaned closer to me and her heavy floral scent curled around my nose. “Don’t you think this is too sudden? I mean, what will we tell everyone? A month or so ago you were engaged to Evan, and now you’re engaged to someone new. That doesn’t look good.”

I sat taller in my chair and squared my shoulders, refusing to bow under the weight of my mom’s glare. She’d never change. She thought she knew how I should live my life. She was wrong. If she thought I’d bend to her will right now, she didn’t know me at all. I’d been subjected to far worse at the hands of the Alvarez Cartel. She could dump a mountain of guilt on me, glare at me until her eye sockets froze, but I wouldn’t leave Ryker or change my course. I was a fighter, and I planned to fight for Ryker and our child every step of the way.

“Evan was a mistake. He asked me to marry him when I wasn’t thinking clearly. If I hadn’t been emotionally vulnerable and exhausted, I never would’ve agreed. I hate him. I hate his family.” I pinned her with my eyes, daring her to challenge me.

My mom sucked in a breath, and her face flushed red. The air buzzed with years of mutual anger and resentment.

My dad waved his hand in front of his face. The three of us sat in silence. His expression held no sign of judgment. I listened to the low hum of restaurant, picking up fragments of conversation from nearby tables.

“Hattie, are you happy? Does he make your happy?” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

My dad leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the white tablecloth. Every thud sent my heart higher and higher until every frazzled beat vibrated at the back of my throat, suffocating me.

He blew out a breath. “That’s all that matters. Why didn’t you bring him tonight? Do we know him?”

“His name is Ryker and he’s out of town right now.”

“Are you living at his house?”

“Yes.” I shrugged. “For now. He’s out of town for a couple more weeks, and I still don’t have anywhere to live. It made sense.”

“Right.” My mom nodded. “What does he do?”

Here came the unanswerable questions. My body sagged like someone had placed a hundred-pound weight on my head. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

My dad’s eyes narrowed. “Is he employed or does he plan to live off you and your family?”

My anger flared, but I bit the inside of my cheek, pushing back the emotion. I didn’t want to pick another fight tonight. “He does consulting. He doesn’t need your connections or your money.” I lifted my chin. “Neither do I.”

“Those are big words for a girl who doesn’t have a job and hasn’t finished her master’s,” my mother said.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, which was fitting. My mom excelled at low blows. “I’m fine. You and dad don’t need to worry about me. My life is back on track again. I know what I want.”

I looked over my shoulder, and my gaze collided with Noah’s. He didn’t even pretend to blend with the other patrons at the bar. All of his attention was focused on my family and me. I flashed him a small, quick smile and turned back to my parents.

Desperately seeking a diversion, I lifted my menu, concealing my face. “What’s good here? I haven’t had a thing to eat since breakfast. I’m starving.”

My dad smiled. “You do seem happier than you’ve been in a long time.”

“I am.”

My dad nodded. “I can’t wait to meet the guy who changed your life.”

“Soon,” I promised, even though I didn’t know if it would ever happen.

So many things had to come to pass before we could be together. Did it make me a terrible person that I didn’t care who we had to hurt to get what we wanted?

My mind whirled with a million and one questions. I shook my head and pushed it all away. I was getting too far ahead of myself. I needed to move forward one step at a time, and step one was making it through dinner with my parents.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ryker

Yellow, pink, and orange streaks tinted the late afternoon sky. Rever’s bright yellow convertible Porsche darted in and out of traffic along the coastal highway, drawing more than a few stares. Wind tunneled through my hair and the smell of exhaust burned my nostrils.

“Couldn’t we have driven something less conspicuous?” I yelled.

“Nah,” Rever responded without looking at me. “Everyone knows this is my car.”

“Exactly my point,” I grumbled.

Rever chuckled. “Everyone will stay clear of us when we’re driving home. It’s perfect.”

“Right, but everyone will know our whereabouts tonight. That’s what I’m worried about.”

“They’ll know we’re in Playa del Carmen for dinner, but they won’t know anything more than that. It’s the perfect cover.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled more to myself than him.

A wide grin stretched across his face as we darted across traffic, earning more than a few honks and angry hand gestures. “Trust me. You’ll see. Besides, if our suspicions are correct, it won’t matter in a couple days.”

“I have a feeling you’ve done something like this before.”

“Not exactly.” His tires squealed as he slammed on his brakes and reversed into a tight spot next to the high-curbed sidewalk.

We both got out of the car, and Rever pointed to a restaurant with an open-air patio. “I hope you like Italian food.”

I shrugged as Rever greeted the hostess. “Does it matter?”

“Not really. We’ll sit down for five minutes, then make our way out the back door of the restaurant. Nobody will suspect a thing and if they do…fuck ’em.”

“If you say so,” I said as we strolled through the restaurant to a table near the kitchen.

Heads turned in waves, watching every move we made. Murmurs and hushed whispers followed us like ghosts. I kept my chin up, and my eyes focused on the back wall. I couldn’t imagine a day when I would get used to the attention of being affiliated with the Vargas Cartel. For the most part, Ignacio confined me to the compound as a child, but on occasion he took me out and flaunted our connection. I still hated the way stares filled with fear followed me everywhere.

I settled into the chair across from Rever, stretching my legs out to the side with my back pressed into the wall. Rever was confident our high profile would shield us. I didn’t agree. The war with the Alvarez Cartel had eroded some of Ignacio’s power. Killing Enrique Alvarez had halted the power shift, but it left us susceptible to challenge.

Rever scanned the menu, commenting about the food he liked. I didn’t respond. Instead, I watched the restaurant staff and fellow patrons studiously avoid eye contact. Even the tourists avoided looking our way despite the fact that they were generally oblivious to the ugly side of Mexico. They viewed Mexico as a relatively inexpensive vacation with free flowing alcohol and long sandy beaches. As an unspoken rule, the cartels didn’t allow the violence to spill into tourist areas, but it happened on occasion.

“Why is everyone starting at us?”

Rever looked up from the laminated menu and tapped the corner of the wooden table. “Get used to it.”

“How do they know who we are?”

“The staff probably knows or suspects something and the rest of them are sensing the tension.”

“Maybe,” I said noncommittally.

Rever stood. “All right. Let’s get out of here.”

“How far is the walk?” I asked, following him.

“A couple of blocks. Maybe less, but either way he won’t have any idea we’re coming.”

I fingered the top of my gun under my linen blazer. Sweat trickled down the middle of my back, and I wanted to strip off the jacket and dump it in the trash, but Mexican gun laws were really strict. I didn’t want to be caught on the wrong side of the law right now. Ignacio had plenty of governmental officials on his payroll, and he could make the charge disappear with one phone call, but I couldn’t stomach being indebted to him for anything else.

Five minutes later Rever paused in front of the blue door of Emanuel’s house. He slipped his gun from the holster behind his back. “I’m going in first.”

I nodded. “I’ve got your back.”

Rever glanced over his shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “You better, asshole. This was all your idea. If it fails, I’m blaming you.”

He didn’t wait for my response. He shot the deadbolt on the door. The wood splintered, and I shaded my face, protecting my eyes from the flying debris. With his gun in front of his body, he kicked the door open. Following his lead, I slid my gun out of the holster.

Emanuel stepped out of the shadows, his gun drawn. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

“Put your gun down before I put a bullet between your eyes,” Rever said, his voice cold as ice.

The veins on the side of Emanuel’s neck pulsed with anger. “Ignacio is going to kill both of you.”

“We’ll take our chances with Ignacio.” I pulled the trigger of my gun and successfully shot him in the foot, immobilizing him.

The gun slipped from his hand, and he stumbled forward onto one knee. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You know,” I started, “after I talked to you last week, I had an epiphany.” I tapped my gun against my thigh.

“You’re crazy,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“All this time, you were pretending to be Ignacio’s faithful servant without any ambition for more,” I continued, ignoring his words. “Then, I realized you not only wanted more, but you were also actively manipulating Ignacio and Juan to consolidate the resources of the two most powerful cartels in this region behind you. Only Ignacio and Juan were too stupid to see you for what you are.”

“You’ll never prove anything,” he taunted, reaching for his gun on the floor in front of him.

Pop!

I shot his hand.

“You piece of shit. You’re going to kill me.”

“He’s right,” Rever said, his voice eerily flat. “You shouldn’t toy with him before we get him to the torture room. If he loses too much blood, we’ll have to let him recover before the fun starts, and I’m in the mood to see lots of blood. I have so many plans for him.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m an immediate gratification type of guy. Maybe we could do it here.”

“Nah. We have better tools at the compound. We should wait.”

Emanuel grabbed a knife from the inside of his pant leg. He lurched forward and it flew through the air in slow motion heading for Rever.

“Rever, watch out,” I screamed, but it was too late.

The knife plunged into Rever’s shoulder. He staggered backward, falling to his knees. His eyes widened, and his lips parted. I charged forward, tackling Emanuel. His head cracked against the tile floor. My legs straddling his waist, I wrapped my hands around his neck. Emanuel clawed at my arm, but I didn’t feel anything. I wanted to strangle the life from his body second by second. His lips turned blue. His eyes bulged. His legs twitched. A haze of red filled my vision as I summoned the specter of death with my bare hands.

“That’s enough,” Rever grunted. He pulled the knife from his shoulder and tossed it on the floor. Blood oozed out of his wound, staining his white shirt.

“No.” I tightened my hands around his neck. “He helped Juan Alvarez abduct Hattie. She could’ve been killed.”

Rever slid a pair of handcuffs across the floor. “Yeah, well, we need to get a confession before you kill him. Otherwise, we’ll never get Ignacio to do what we want him to do.”

My body sagged, and my grip on his neck loosened. “Fuck,” I yelled, slamming my fist into the wall behind me. White dust coated my knuckles.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get the chance to do whatever you want with him,” Rever said, cupping his shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers.

I spat on Emanuel’s face and flipped him onto his back. I snapped one ring of the cuffs around his wrist and the other around the iron stair railing.

“Take my car keys,” Rever said, dangling them from his fingers.

I snatched them out of his hand and started moving toward the front door.

“Text me when you’re out front and get the duct tape out of the glove box.”

“I’m on it. See you in a few minutes.”

“Hurry the fuck up. I don’t want to get in a gun fight while you’re gone.” His hardened gaze drifted across the room. “I have to find some bleach to clean this mess up. I don’t want it to look like we murdered someone in here.” He chuckled at his own joke. “That’ll come later. Much later.”