Chapter Twenty-Three
N athan stalked back to the truck and roughly took Mav from his car seat. Glaring at me, he took Mav in his arms. “You couldn’t have fucked the bartender? You had to spread your legs for a fucking jarhead?”
“Watch. Your language ,” I seethed.
Mav looked between me and Nathan and shoved his thumb in his mouth. Two years old, and he already knew when to keep his mouth shut around Nathan. My heart broke with the inexcusable situation I’d put him in.
Still holding Mav, Nathan grabbed his laundry bag from one of his guards and tossed it in the truck. “Do your run.”
I panicked. “Give me back my son.”
“Again.” Nathan’s voice turned to steel. “Do. Your. Run .” He fake smiled at Mav. “If Mommy listens, she can have you back.”
Dread crawled up my spine and I fought for leverage. “You’re a day early. You’re getting sloppy.”
“I don’t give a goddamn fuck if I’m a week early. If I tell you to do your run, you do it. Period.”
Mav pulled his arms closer to his body.
I glanced at my boy. “It’s okay, sweet boy. Mommy is going to run an errand, and I’ll be home before you know it. Go inside with Nathan, and when I get back, I’ll make you some macaroni and cheese.” I smiled at him.
“Roni,” Mav whispered around his thumb in his mouth.
“You feed him like shit,” Nathan clipped. “I’ll feed him. ”
Anxiety raced through my veins and wrapped around my heart. “You never feed him.”
The smile that spread across his face made my blood run cold. “Never say never.”
Using the only leverage I had, I pulled the laundry bag into the front passenger seat. “You do anything, anything to him, and your deposit won’t make it.”
“You fuck me, I’ll fuck you back, sweet cheeks.” Nathan grinned. “But remember, I fuck harder.” He slammed the truck’s door shut.
I put the window down. “I go now, you’re as good as guaranteed I’ll be followed by him.” I didn’t say Garrett’s name out loud to Nathan. He knew who I was talking about, and just in case he didn’t already know his name, I wasn’t going to be the one to give it to him, because giving Nathan any information was as good as giving him ammunition.
“Well, then you’re going to have to be extra careful.” He gripped the back of Mav’s head and pulled him close. When he was cheek to cheek with him, he smiled. “Isn’t she, Maverick? Tell Mommy she needs to be careful and lose the Marine so she can come home to you.”
Mav’s eyes filled with tears. “Mama.”
If I had a gun in my hands in that moment, I would’ve shot Nathan between the eyes. No hesitation, no regret, no remorse, I would’ve killed him in cold blood.
“You’re lucky I’m not armed,” I warned.
Nathan dropped the fake smile and his expression turned ruthless. “Remember who you’re talking to.” Holding my only reason for being, he pivoted and carried Maverick into the house.
One of Nathan’s guards, the only one I’d ever thought was even remotely human, the one who I’d thought for sure would be on my side if push ever came to shove, stood outside the truck for a heartbeat while the other guards returned to their posts. I thought he was going to give me a quick nod, or an acknowledgement, or something to indicate that he saw what had gone down and that he’d keep an eye on Mav while I was gone .
But no.
He glared at me through the open window of my stolen truck.
“Ty?” I asked, dread sinking in.
His nostrils flared. “Get the fuck out of here. Do your run.”
The last of my composure snapped.
Panic flooded my system with adrenaline, and for a split second I thought about grabbing Ty’s handgun from the holster on his waist and running inside after Nathan. I knew I wouldn’t make it five feet. I knew I was no match for half a dozen guards and another half a dozen men posing as business associates, but who were always armed. I knew I had less than a one percent chance of killing of Nathan, but I still thought about it.
God, I thought about it.
I wanted everyone on the property dead except me and my son.
Everyone.
But I was trapped and there was nothing I could do.
Except make my drop.
Hands shaking, tears of rage threatening, I put the window up and stepped on the gas. One of the guards glared at me as he had to jump out of my way, but I didn’t care.
I was already thinking.
I knew what was in the laundry bag.
Six stacks of a hundred one-hundred dollar bills in seven pairs of pants. Forty-two stacks. Four-hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
It wasn’t enough.
I’d been down this road. I’d contemplated a thousand times taking the money from one of my weekly drops and running with Mav. But four hundred thousand dollars and change wasn’t enough money to hide from a cartel money launderer, and I didn’t have Mav with me right now.
That left three options.
Drive to the nearest police station and demand to speak to the FBI. Drive to Luna and Associates. Or make the drop .
The first option, assuming I lived long enough for Miami PD to make a phone call and get a local FBI or ATF agent on scene, Maverick would be a statistic and Nathan would be gone before I could even tell them who I was or what I’d been doing.
The second option would result in the same fate for Maverick.
The third option—I make my drop.
Then I go home and get Mav, and the first chance I get, I leave. I had a few thousand dollars I’d saved from the pocket change Nathan occasionally threw me. I wouldn’t get far, but I wouldn’t be stealing cartel money, and I had one option I hadn’t had an hour ago.
I knew where Garrett worked.
I never forgot where Garrett lived, but I never knew if he’d made it home from his deployment alive, or if he’d gotten out like he’d said or if he was still in Miami. I’d never looked for him because it was too risky. I didn’t want Nathan knowing that I’d looked for him.
But Garrett was home and he wasn’t alone, and while a few bodyguards wouldn’t have a chance at taking down Nathan, they may be able to get Mav somewhere safe.
So that was my plan. Make the drop, get Mav back, then plan my escape.
Determined, I drove out of the gate.