Chapter 7
DEAN
In the mornings, the room felt almost normal, before the compound fully woke.
The twins sat cross-legged on the rug, toy cars lined up in perfect rows, arguing over which one was fastest. Isabella giggled from Yasmine’s lap as she waved her small fists at the chaos, babbling as if she were part of the conversation.
Yasmine laughed softly, brushing a curl from Isabella’s forehead, her green eyes bright with patience.
And the entire time all he could think was that he didn’t deserve any of this.
He sat back in the large chair, watching them. For a fleeting moment, it was easy to imagine this wasn’t a prison. Easy to believe they were simply away on a holiday at an exotic resort, safe, free, and happy. His chest loosened as the twins broke into laughter, and Isabella clapped at the sound.
Hope was a dangerous thing, but damn if it didn’t feel good for a heartbeat.
Yasmine caught his gaze and smiled. “They’re getting too clever,” she murmured.
“They get it from you.” Dean reached down, snagged one of the cars when the boys weren’t looking, and rolled it back into their line with exaggerated slowness. Both heads whipped around, appalled.
“Dad, don’t ruin the line,” Aiden scolded.
Dean chuckled, a sound he barely recognized in himself anymore. “What? I’m just proving which one’s the fastest,” he teased them.
The boys attacked him, clambering onto the chair, their tiny hands trying their best to tickle him.
Dean laughed and let them wrestle him to the floor.
He soaked in every second of it before he finally stood with Tate under his left arm and Aiden under his right.
They squealed and kicked their feet as he spun in a circle then dropped them on their bed.
Their smiles and hysterical laughter as he returned the tickling favor fueled him for the day. “Alright, you heathens, I have to get going.”
“Awe…do you have too,” the twins whined in unison.
“Unfortunately, I do.”
Walking over to Yasmine, she passed Isabella to him. He kissed her cheek and breathed in the sweet scent that reinforced what he was fighting for. These moments were oxygen. But oxygen never lasted long here. His father stole it right from his lungs.
A knock on the door brought Dean back to reality. He whipped around to face the door.
A guard’s voice. “Mercurio. The Don requests you.”
“Coming,” he growled, his jaw tightening.
He kissed Isabella one more time on the cheek, then passed her back to Yasmine.
Yasmine held his gaze, her smile fading, worry flickering. He cupped her cheek and kissed her softly.
“I’ll be back. Keep them close and don’t leave the room today. I don’t have a specific reason, but I just have a feeling that it will be safer to stay out of sight.”
“What aren’t you telling me.”
Dean shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, just a gut feeling. I haven’t lived this long without listening to what it says.”
Yasmine nodded. “Okay, I’ll lock the door and stay in here.”
He forced himself to move away, to leave the warmth of their little cocoon. Masking his face, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, sending a chill down his spine despite the heat.
There was only one guard today, Ricco. Dean looked at the man who remained completely passive since he’d met him.
“Only you? How did you draw the short straw?”
Ricco shrugged. “I do not see accompanying you as a chore.” Ricco shrugged, glancing sideways as he kept pace with Dean’s strides. “Unless of course you plan on killing me.”
The corner of Dean’s mouth curled up into a smirk. “Not today.”
“Good to know.” Their strides fell into an easy tempo, so perfectly aligned that it sounded like one person. “I’d like to ask you a personal question?”
“Is this for you or for my father?”
“Me.”
“Then go ahead,” Dean said, curiosity piqued.
“You don’t want to be here.” Dean looked at the man walking beside him and wanted to say something completely sarcastic but chose to remain quiet and see where this was heading. “I’d like to know why?”
Dean stopped walking and Ricco took an extra stride and then turned and looked at him. “Is this a serious question?”
“Yes. I grew up in the area, very poor. Since coming to work for Mr. Ramírez, I have a steady job, able to provide for my family, and we are protected by the large army he acquired. As the next in line to take over you would hold immense power. I guess I don’t understand why you hate it here so much. ”
“Ricco, is your father still alive?” His body stiffened, and he was slow to answer.
“Yes.”
“Did he ever beat you growing up?”
“No.”
“Did he force you to kill anyone for fun?”
“Well…no.”
“Did he ever force you to rape a woman while her husband watched and then made you shoot her in the head?”
Ricco swallowed, eyes large.
“I’m going to take the shocked expression as no.
Unfortunately, my father was and is a psycho.
I’m sure you’re aware of the things he does, and just because I’m his son, doesn’t mean I’m like him.
So, no…I have no interest in being back here, and I have no interest in my father’s sick fantasies being pushed onto my children. Understand?”
Dean stepped into Ricco’s personal space and stared into his eyes.
He seemed to be a decent man, one with morals despite his time here.
That was rare, and Dean filed the information away.
“I’m going to be completely honest with you.
If Carlos tries anything like that with my children or my wife…
then I’d suggest staying out of my way, or I will slit your throat right along with his. Understood?”
“Yes,” he answered.
Done with this conversation, Dean walked away and wasn’t surprised when Ricco chose to stay a couple strides behind.
He expected more guards posted outside Carlos’s office upon arrival. Instead, the corridor was empty. No footsteps. No shadows shifting.
“I’ll leave you to meet with the El Chapo alone,” Ricco said, walking away. Dean glared at his receding back, unease prickling his spine.
The office door stood ajar, voices drifting through.
“The American soldiers have been deployed,” Carlos’s voice said smoothly in Spanish, laced with satisfaction.
“The Alvarez warehouse will be nothing but ash by morning. Is that a significant enough of a test for you?” Carlos paused and Dean wished he could hear the other end of the conversation.
“Where did you hear the name, the Righteous?”
Dean froze. The words slammed into him as solidly as a punch.
The Righteous.
His blood iced. His stomach dropped. Quietly, he pushed the door wider. Carlos stood at the desk, phone pressed to his ear, sunlight striping across his immaculate suit.
“I see. Yes, the name is correct, and they are quite the weapon. What do you say Francisco, do we have a deal?” A pause. “They are not a toy for you to try. You either want my services and protection, or you do not. You have twenty-four hours to decide.”
Dean’s hand curled into a fist. He shoved the door all the way open, the bang of the door loud enough to get his father’s attention.
Carlos glanced up, met his glare, and smiled. “Twenty-four and not a minute more.” Carlos hung up with deliberate leisure.
Dean stepped inside, every muscle coiled. “What the hell did you just say?”
Carlos tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Ah, Mercurio. Always storming around like you did as a child. Sit. I’ll explain.”
Dean didn’t move. His chest heaved, his pulse thundered. “What do you mean you deployed the Righteous to destroy Alvarez’s warehouse?”
Carlos spread his hands. “Because I did and they are. I thought that was very self explanatory.”
Dean wanted to stomp across the space and wrap his hands around the old man’s throat until he stopped breathing.
“How?”
Carlos sat down at his desk and gestured to the chair across from him. Dean didn’t want to sit, but he crossed the room and took a seat.
“Much better. I was waiting for this to be a surprise for you, but I guess now is as good of a time to tell you as any. I acquired the secret organization a number of years back.”
“That’s impossible, it is a government op, they aren’t going to just sell the group to the highest bidder,” Dean argued.
“Although true…what proof did you have that you were working for a secret government group?”
Dean didn’t say anything. He’d never questioned it before until now.
“In all fairness, they used to be during World War I and II, but they were disbanded.”
Dean knew the story, but thought it was nothing more than a myth. “Lies.”
Carlos chuckled and the hair stood on the back of Dean’s neck. He knew that laugh all too well.
“Is it? The original group was disbanded, but one of the members didn’t take too kindly to being kicked out and told to carry on in the real world like he never mattered.
He not only took over and resumed operations, but he also knew that money was going to be needed to keep you outfitted with the best tech, weapons, and backup. ”
Carlos stood, as he paused and Dean knew that it was for dramatic effect. The issue was that it was working. He watched his father wander over to the table near the window and despite the early time, he poured himself a glass of whiskey before turning to face Dean once more.
“At first the jobs were all above board and there were rules in place to make sure that the soldiers were only going after those that deserved it. Just like when you were all enlisted, this gave you focus and purpose. He gave you all just enough freedom to do what you wanted but also fed you the odd job. The packages would come anonymously, a message sent to your cellphone with a target. Any of this sounding familiar?”
Dean swallowed but didn’t say anything. Keeping his face passive, he leaned back in the chair and tapped his fingers on the arm as if bored.
“Fine, don’t speak, I know it to be true.
I mean who do you think paid for supplies, the weapons, transportation, and everything else needed?
You think that stuff is free? Do you really think a the government that wouldn’t give its soldiers the needed equipment, had no issues shelling out millions to keep the likes of you with the very best?
Come now, Mercurio, you’re smarter than that.
” His cruel smile sharpened. “No, hijo. I saw the value in such an organization, and it fell into my lap.”
“You mean you killed who was in charge,” Dean stated.
“I never said that I acquired it by legal means.”
Dean’s stomach churned. This was how Carlos had found Dean’s family.
“How long?”
“I can’t give away all the surprises in one meeting.” Carlos smirked, sipping his drink while Dean’s stomach churned like it was filled with bile and fire.
“How long?” Dean growled and stood.
“Long enough to watch you grieve your friend and track your great escape across the desert. Ever wonder who leaked your mission?” Carlos smirked.
The floor tilted beneath Dean. Every mission. Every person he watched senselessly die. Every night he thought he was purging monsters. He’d been his father’s knife all along.
“You’re lying.” His voice was rough like gravel. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep from gloating.”
Carlos’s laughter filled the office, deep and mocking.
“You see the look on your face? That is why I kept the truth until now. To savor this moment for when you were back under my roof. All that blood you spilled for righteousness…it was my empire you strengthened. My enemies you destroyed. Even Alvarez bled by your hand, though you never knew it. I gave you all just enough horrible targets that you wouldn’t question who was in charge.
It was all to make you believe that the ghosts in the shadows pulling your strings were real. ”
Dean lunged.
He didn’t think, didn’t measure. Rage detonated in his chest, and he launched across the room, hands reaching for his father’s throat.
But the guards that had been standing in the corners had been expecting it.
They hit him from both sides, slamming him to the floor.
His shoulder cracked against tile and his breath blasted from his lungs.
Dean roared, fought, but more weight piled on, boots pinning his arms, knees grinding into his spine.
Carlos stepped around the desk, adjusting his cufflinks with lazy precision. “Still so predictable, Mercurio. All fire. No patience. No thought. You just…act. But that is okay, we will teach you patience.”
Dean strained against the hold, his teeth bared. “I’ll kill you.”
Carlos crouched, close enough that Dean’s instincts screamed for him to step back, but he couldn’t. His smirk was laced with poison. “Of course you will try. It is your nature. But you forget…nature can be caged.”
He straightened, nodding once. “Take him to isolation.”
The guards hauled Dean upright, half-dragging him from the office. He snarled, trying to wrench himself free, but fists slammed into his ribs, and boots caught his shins. They dragged him down stone corridors, through iron gates, until the air grew damp and the light disappeared.
A heavy door clanged open and the guards shoved him inside and slammed the door shut.
Darkness swallowed him.
The cell stank of mildew, rust, and old death. The walls were cold and slick with moisture. A single chain hung from the ceiling, rattling as the door’s lock clicked home.
Dean staggered to his feet, chest heaving. The silence was crushing, broken only by his own ragged breaths.
The little slot in the door opened and his father peered in at him. Even though Dean could only see his eyes, he could feel the smirk. “You ran to be free, but my son…you were serving me.”
“Fucking prick,” Dean growled. His father’s laughed as he slammed the slot shut.
Dean pressed his palms to the wall, the rough stone biting his skin. His mind spun to Yasmine, to the children. Alone, upstairs, no guards between them and Carlos, if he chose to twist the knife deeper. The thought gutted him.
He sank to his knees. Fists pressed to his temples.
The darkness closed in, thick and suffocating. The sound of helicopter blades loud in his ears as his mind swirled and was pulled under by the feelings of guilt and grief. They all died, and it was all his fault.
For the first time in years, Dean let the fear in. Not for himself, but for his family, and the men and women serving his father that had no idea.
“Fuck…I need to stop him,” Dean whispered to the darkness.