Chapter 40
FORTY
I left the hospital with the words of Bourbon ringing in my ears and the feeling that my world was crashing around me.
I was in shock that the cartel had outright tried to attack us. They were declaring war--and all the rules that generally applied to these situations were gone.
The fire at the club--yes. Dumping a dead body, one associated with the Kings in the past--yes. All acceptable reactions to the death of Carlos.
But, they'd tried to kill a baby.
All bets were off. They were coming for blood and we were going to fucking give it to them.
My chest constricted at the thought.
It wasn't going to be we anymore. I'd been officially kicked out of my family, men I considered like brothers.
And I deserved it.
I'd gone against Bourbon's direct orders and, despite Coulter's claim that they would've done it anyways, I couldn't stop the guilt coursing through my veins, its ever-present presence that I'd acted selfishly, even if it had been for the right reasons.
I'd had good reasons for doing what I did.
They'd taken Tatiana and drugged her up. Despite the fact that she often straddled the line between the King and cartel territory, I'd clearly claimed her in front of the whole city, and they had no right to take her.
And that was only one in a list of infractions by the cartel--they were clearly trying to take advantage of the instability of the change in leadership in the King territory.
And yet, Coulter was right about one thing--I shouldn't have acted on my own.
I should have come to them. Trusted them.
It was right of Bourbon to kick me out.
I wasn't acting like a brother.
It was true; I didn't trust anyone.
Not my brothers and not Tatiana.
And, despite the ache and pain of being kicked out from my family, I had to put all that aside in need of something more important--Tatiana.
She was my most important concern now and I was desperate to find her.
With the attack at the hospital, I wasn't so sure she was as safe as I'd thought she might be. Heavens knew that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but I wasn't taking a chance on her life.
Old enemies had come for me, and I needed to finish what my abuelo had never done--find and discover which of my enemies from Veracruz was still remaining, and kill him.
El Caminante.
Several hours later, I sat outside Poppy's house, once again. All roads led here--mostly because everywhere else was a desperate dead end.
But Poppy had been the one Tatiana had spoken to last time she'd been kidnapped. She'd also intentionally distracted me that night; she would know something .
Poppy opened her door in a robe, even though it was the middle of the day. Her hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her hair. "Knight." Her surprise was genuine.
I eyed her smeared mascara and lipstick. "Upset about Benny?"
"Huh?"
She didn't know. I wasn't even certain that she would care.
She had plenty of time to find out about Benny; I didn't have that luxury.
"Invite me in," I said coolly.
"Come in," she stepped to the side, readjusting her robe to tie it tighter as I stepped through her doorway. "Dante will be joining us."
"Oh," she scrambled to pass me, quickly grabbing emptied wine glasses, dirty plates, and silverware from the coffee table.
"Have a seat," she called from the kitchen, where she dumped everything in her kitchen sink. When she returned, Dante was already standing next to me, having entered through the back door.
"Sit," she said again, but we both stared at her, not moving.
"Fine," she grumbled, redoing her messy bun into an even messier one, then sat down across from us, crossing her legs and holding her robe tight. "How can I help you?"
I took in her rumpled look, the soft powdery cocaine remnants on the coffee table, pillows scattered everywhere. "Are we interrupting anything?" I nodded towards a bottle of uncorked and unfinished wine by the bar.
"No," she replied, a little too quickly.
"Is there anyone else in the house," Dante growled from beside me.
"No." Her face had gone pale.
"Poppy, you need to be honest with us," I said. "There's been an attack. You might not be safe right now."
"Really?" her voice was a squeak, and she grabbed a pillow, holding it in front of her like a shield. "What happened?"
"There'll be time for that later," I said, impatiently. "When we're done here, Dante will escort you to one of the safe houses. He can explain on the way. For now, I need to talk to you about Tatiana."
"Oh?" she exclaimed, her expression blank. "What about her?"
"I need to know where she is."
"I don't know where she is. She hasn't spoken to me in several days. Why?" Poppy teased, with a mischievous smile and a wink, "Trouble in paradise?"
"Even if that's true," I ignored her flirting, trying to keep her focused, "you would know how to find her."
"Why would you think that?"
"Stop pretending you don't know!" I snapped, trying to contain my frustration. "She could be in danger."
"She's always in some kind of danger," Poppy rolled her eyes and began to study her nails. "She lives on the line between danger and more danger. She can take care of herself."
"It's different this time," I growled in exasperation. None of her girlfriends appeared to have any information about Tatiana. They were evidently wanting to protect her, but they didn't seem to realize that she could be in real danger.
"How so?" She stopped picking at her nails to peer at me.
"Some old enemies of mine have come back, people who know our story together. They might be after her."
I hated revealing all this information--I hadn't spoken about these things with anyone outside my family and Tatiana--but I had to trust someone or I'd never find her.
"Poppy," I looked into her eyes pleadingly, swallowing my ego, "I need to make sure she’s okay."
At this, Poppy fidgeted, moving the pillow around, wiping the powder from the coffee table, readjusting her position on the sofa. "And you really think she might be in trouble?"
"Yes."
Poppy closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. When she opened them, intelligent eyes stared back at me. "Fine," she said. "But first, I would like you to sit, please." She gestured grandly, sarcastically, towards the sofa across from her. "I'm tired of breaking my neck staring up at the two of you."
I had the feeling that she wasn't just talking about today.
Dante scowled but I sat quickly, gesturing for him to follow suit. If we had to fucking sit in order to find Tatiana, we should fucking sit.
Once we were settled, she straightened her back, her arms crossed across her lap, and narrowed her focus in on me. "I'll tell you how to find her, but you have to promise me something first."
"And what's that?" I asked, growing agitated again. I'd swallowed my ego more times in the past twenty minutes than in the last ten years.
"You have to promise to give her a choice."
"What do you mean?"
She shook her head, giving me a sad look. "You have no idea, do you?"
"Just spit it out, Poppy."
"She loves you, ya know?" She leaned forward, clutching that pillow to her chest again. "But she doesn't trust you."
"She told you that?"
She chuckled humorlessly. "She doesn't need to; any woman with eyes in their head can see it." At this, her expression grew serious. "Tatiana is a wild creature. The girl's got wings. But the men in her life keep clipping them. All she wants is freedom and to be loved." She paused, her gaze moving downward to her hands. "People like me, we prefer security. I'd rather be owned by someone I don't love, than to live on the streets, worried about having food or being jacked in the middle of the night for my blanket or shoes. But Tatiana, she never cared about money. And she could handle herself. She's brave and strong and independent, but she has never had control over her own life." Her gaze met mine. "An exotic creature like Tatiana shouldn't be kept in a cage. She deserves to be loved, to be given the freedom to fly, without expectation in return. She wants control of her own life. To not be owned by anyone, yet still have a life full of love." She shook her head sadly. "But that's impossible in our world."
I suddenly realized with a shock that I was no better than her parents.
I may not have sold her but I had tried to control her. Tried to chain her to me, force her to be with me every second, instead of just letting her love me.
I hadn't trusted her, just like I hadn't trusted my brothers.
And how could she truly trust me, love me, if I was treating her like every other person had, her whole life?
God, I was fucked up. And it was wrong.
"You're right," I said.
Poppy's eyes met mine. "I know."
"Please," I said, feeling humbled. "Help me find her. I really do believe she's in danger. I at least need to make sure she’s okay."
Poppy nodded. "Okay," she pulled in a breath, her lips parting.
Suddenly Dante next to me jumped to his feet. At the same time, there was a popping noise. Dante was in motion while I stared in shock as Poppy fell sideways, her blood splattered across the sofa.
She was dead.
My shock quickly wore off and I raced after Dante, running towards the sound of the front door slamming against the wall.
Poppy's yard was too long as we chased after a brown-haired man, booking it across her front lawn. He was fast but we were faster, eventually tackling him to the ground.
Dante wrenched the gun from his hands while I slammed a fist into his face in rapid succession. He struggled, trying to fight me off, but I was enraged, uncontrolled.
My whole world was falling apart.
Tatiana left me.
Someone tried to kill Rose and her baby.
I'd been kicked out of the only family I ever loved.
The one person who knew how to find Tatiana was now dead.
And everything was my own fault.
I'd grown up not being able to trust my own parents. Taught how to betray those you loved. Struggled to survive after my whole family had been killed. And had turned down the only love ever offered to me without asking for anything in return.
And the hope of finding her again had disappeared with the sickening sound of a bullet sliding through skull and brains.
I slammed my fist over and over, blood spurting, the man's face quickly turning black and blue.
Tatiana was in danger -- if she was even still alive, and this motherfucker had just killed the one person who could tell me how to find her. I was going to kill him!
"Knight!" Dante roared, yanking me back to my senses. "Stop! We need to get information from him."
I stilled, pulling in gulping breaths as I tried to gain control over myself.
The man had brown hair and eyes, a slightly handsome face, with a thin frame--a runner's body. It clicked. He was the man with the collie, out running that night I came to see Poppy.
"Where is she?" I snarled, hitting him again.
"I can't tell you," the man sneered, spittle and blood flying. "He's not ready for you, yet."
"I'll call Torian," Dante said, pulling out his phone.
"Don't bother," I said, "I'm going to take care of this one myself. Instead, you'll need to find a new home for a dog named Colbi."