Chapter Thirty-Nine
M y arms not moving, my legs frozen, my whole body not my own, I did nothing as a man I recognized from the club threw me over his shoulder.
Bullets flying, shouting, the smell of gas and fear and broken everything surrounded me and soaked into my soul.
It was too much.
My body gave up.
I gave up.
He was going after Dante.
Dante was going to kill him.
My father was associated with men who killed and raped and worked for the cartel.
Any of this, all of this, could have happened to me at any given moment, and I’d been walking around my whole life with a false sense of security.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t breathe.
My stomach got pummeled by the hard shoulder it was over as the man in a black polo and black cargos ran us away from the man who’d saved my life.
The man carrying me sprinted to another black SUV, opened the back door and unceremoniously dumped me inside.
Drowning, no air in my lungs, I landed on soft leather in the position I’d fallen, and I lay there.
The driver door opened and slammed shut.
The sound of gunfire muted.
The engine roared to life.
The car jerked forward then took on speed.
I lay there with his voice in my head.
Ludeviene. Ludeviene .
Over and over I heard him barking, then yelling my name.
Except he hadn’t just barked and yelled.
Guttural and desperate, my name had ripped from his lungs.
Like I was ripped from him.
The thought snapped me from my own head.
I sucked in a breath, then another.
“Hey.” The man driving spared me a glance. “You good?”
Another breath and I pushed up. My bones stiff, my muscle control jittery, I felt Ty between my legs. “Yeah,” I rasped, clearing my throat. “Yes.” I sat all the way up.
He eyed me in the rearview mirror. “Collins.”
“Excuse me?” I brushed my hair from my face.
“My name,” he added.
Ty had brushed my hair from my face. “Ludeviene,” I replied on autopilot. “Nice to meet you.”
He didn’t comment. He stared at me a moment then looked back at the road.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He held up a finger then touched a small device in his ear. “En route, second SUV at the scene potentially on my six… Copy.”
He went quiet, and I looked behind us, but all I saw were headlights in the far distance.
Collins spoke into his communication device again. “Ten-four.” He touched the device once more then spoke to me, answering my previous question. “Miami with a stop in Largo.”
“Why Key Largo?”
“Need to handle something,” he replied with little patience.
“We’re being followed?”
“I believe so, yes.”
I looked behind us again. “Is Ty okay?”
Collins glanced at me in the mirror again. “Yeah.”
Inhaling, I tried to even out the tremors wracking my body from the inside out. “May I borrow your phone?”
“For?”
I hesitated. The last time I asked for a phone with these men, it didn’t go over well. But as the large SUV sped north, I was more desperate than before.
Screw it.
I told Collins the truth, but this time, I used the name they all knew Dreena’s man by. “I would like to call Tank.”
“Tank,” Collins stated with zero intonation.
“Yes.”
Muttering something under his breath that sounded like trouble , he reached in his pocket, swiped across his phone, then held it out to me.
I took it and scrolled to his contacts. Sure enough, he had “Tank” programmed.
I hit dial.
After three rings, the line was answered.
“Why the fuck are you calling me right now?” Falcon’s deep voice boomed through the line, but he sounded like I’d woken him up.
“My apologies. This is Ludeviene Loic. May I please speak with Dreena?”
His tone went all business. “Where’s Collins?”
Intimidated, I stuttered, “He-he’s driving.”
“Put him on the phone,” Falcon demanded.
I persisted. “May I please speak with Dreena?”
Silence.
I gripped the phone tighter. “Hello?”
“Why?”
It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.
Second-guessing my entire plan and this call, I evaded. “I would like to speak with her, please.”
He sighed, then it sounded like he put the phone on speaker. “Wake up, babe. You got a call.”
Sheets rustled, and Dreena’s sleepy voice came through the line. “Who is it?”
“It’s Ludeviene,” I replied.
“Oh my God! Did they find you?” Her voice suddenly sounding awake, she practically yelled, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, they did and I’m fine, but I need a favor.”
“Yes, sure, of course,” Dreena answered as Tank growled out a babe. “Anything you need.”
Inhaling for courage, I asked, “May I please come to your house instead of going home?”
“Oh my God, of course,” Dreena sympathized.
“Hell no,” Tank barked.
“Falcon!” Dreena snapped.
“Not just hell no, but no fucking way. Does she know what’s up with you? She’s not fucking coming here and putting you in danger. Give me that.” There was a rustling sound and the phone went off speaker then Tank’s voice thundered with anger. “Put Collins on.”
Guilt and horror at my abject selfishness washed over me. “My apologies, I didn’t think—”
“Collins, now ,” Tank roared.
I held the phone out for Collins. “It’s for you.”
He took it, but not before he gave me a look in the mirror that said it all. “I wasn’t a part of that agenda… Copy… No fucking shit… I hear you. Ten-four.” He hung up.
“I can’t go to my father’s,” I admitted in desperation. “Please don’t take me there.”
Sighing, he distinctly muttered trouble , then he dialed his phone. A second later a ring sounded through the car’s speaker before the call was answered.
“Luna.”
“Client request,” Collins clipped.
“Go,” Luna answered in a rush.
“She doesn’t want to be returned to Loic’s.”
“Use one of the client apartments.”
“Copy that.”
“Anything else?” André asked.
“No.”
“Later.” André hung up.
I leaned back in my seat and let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Collins scanned the side mirrors again. “Mind if I ask a question?”
“Go ahead.” I didn’t want to talk, but he’d done me a favor, and he was being polite for the moment.
“Why don’t you want to go to your father’s?”
I looked out the window at the darkness rushing past. Then I acknowledged a truth I never would have believed a day ago. “I just found out he’s been in business with the cartel for the better part of twenty years. Would you want to go back to that?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he changed lanes and passed a single lone car traveling the same artery that fed the keys as we were. Then he looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Fuck no.”