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Adrenaline was coursing through my veins at an unbelievable rate. Using the burst of power provided by the hormone, I summoned the energy to turn over and somehow managed to climb to my hands and knees, the shiny piece of mirror still clutched in my wrapped hand. I wiped my eyes with the back of the pillowcase around my hand until I was able to see enough of the dark landscape to keep going. With a grunt, I pushed to my feet and turned in the direction Cat and I originally ran.
I could only hope that Cat already made it to safety.
Not sparing a thought for the man I just killed, I took off for the road I could just about see in the distance. The red-hot agony tore through my calf a fraction of a second before I heard the gunshot. My leg collapsed and I went down face-first onto the unforgiving rocky landscape. This time, when my ribs slammed into the ground, I couldn’t stop from screaming in agony.
There was no time to recover or even look at my newest injury, which, by the feel of it, was only a bullet graze. A man was on top of me. He grabbed me by my hair and hauled me to my feet, or foot, as I couldn’t put much weight on my left leg. I struck out erratically with the mirror, swinging my arm in the hopes of striking something, anything.
“Pinche puta!” the man roared in my ear.
His arm curled around my throat and tightened, cutting off my air. I brought the glass up to stab his arm and cried out when he brought his other arm down on my wrist. Whoever this guy was hit with so much force, a jolt of breath-stealing pain shot all the way up to my shoulder and I dropped my weapon. The man began dragging me by my throat backwards toward the house.
Hell no!
I’d rather die than set foot in there again, so I kicked and struggled to get free. His arm tightened around my neck and the lack of oxygen extinguished my ability to fight. My vision became spotty and my limbs weak. As consciousness faded, I heard El Cuchillo growl in my ear.
“You will suffer for what you have done, coño.”
I hope he just gets it over with and kills me.
6
Jag
“You’re sure about this, Boss?”
I was about to break Milo’s nose. He had only asked the same fucking question twenty times since we left our meeting with Brick and his men. Milo didn’t trust Brick to watch our backs, which was to be expected from any good lieutenant. Caution was important in this line of work and enemies were never truly your friends. But then, Milo wasn’t privy to the details of my deal with Brick. Because of Milo’s bizarre and antagonistic behavior as of late, I chose to bring Shade into the private meeting as my second in command.
The look on Milo’s face when I picked the head of distribution over him was nothing short of pure loathing. I wasn’t sure when, exactly, my most trusted lieutenant went from a close confidant to a man I needed to keep at arm’s length. I wanted to say it coincided with Miri’s appearance in my life and her presence turned Milo sour, but it ran deeper than that. Milo’s hostility had grown exponentially ever since I turned down El Cuchillo’s offer to join him in trafficking kidnapped women and girls. Miri just happened to be a convenient outlet for his frustration.
This erratic behavior was exactly why Milo wasn’t let in on the details of tonight’s discussions with Brick or our plan to move on Los Guerreros.
“I know what I’m doing, Milo,” I answered as I studied the ridiculously out of place mansion through a pair of Bushnell night vision binoculars from a distant clump of tangled shrubs and stunted trees. The kind that grew like weeds in this part of Texas.
El Cuchillo’s men were spread out everywhere along the edges of the property, each wielding a bright flashlight. They were searching for something… or perhaps someone? Was it too much to hope Miri, who Brick confirmed was inside the house, had escaped?
My phone silently buzzed in my pocket. I pressed my earpiece to answer.
“Boss here,” I whispered.
“I have some information for you,” Brick stated calmly.
I waited for the man to elaborate. When nothing further came, I became impatient.
“And?”
“And I think you should come and see for yourself. I am at the location we previously discussed.” The line went dead.
“Fuck!” I hissed. I tapped the earpiece and turned to Shade and Milo, pointing. “You two stay here. Anyone comes close to you, kill them. Quietly.” I stared at Milo so he knew not to use that fucking hand cannon of his. “And try to leave one alive for questioning.” I shot them both dark looks and gave Shade an extra second to tip his head in understanding. He knew I was silently telling him to watch Milo carefully. Milo’s behavior and attitude were so unpredictable I didn’t want to take any chances my lieutenant might do something stupid and reckless to ruin the element of surprise.
“Got it, Boss,” Shade answered. Milo simply sneered as I handed him the Bushnells.
On foot, it would take a good forty minutes to circle halfway around the rough terrain comprising El Cuchillo’s nine hundred acres. There wasn’t enough time for that bullshit. I hopped in the car I left parked far enough from the compound to remain undetected, and with the headlights off, drove the entire one and a half miles of rocky, dirt road in less than five minutes. I stopped next to Brick’s massive black SUV and yanked the keys out of the ignition before leaping from the car and jogging over to a group of men. As I got closer, I noticed they were standing in a circle, watching a single man who was crouched over a body on the ground. My breath caught and I stumbled at the sight.
Is that Miri? is she dead?
Dread swamped my veins and my heart hammered in my ears. I forced one foot in front of the other until I stood at the edges of the tight circle comprised of Brick’s men. Peering over a guy’s shoulder, I glanced down at the figure, but it was too dark to make out any specific features. All I could tell was that whoever was on the ground was female—small and rail thin, with long hair fanned out on the rocky, uneven ground. In a panic, I elbowed my way between two of Brick’s men and fell to my knees. When I saw the girl’s face, all of the air punched out of my lungs.
Not Miri. And not conscious either, so she wouldn’t be answering any questions at the moment.
