Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Chelsea
"Why would we help you?" I asked, looking Nyla Fox straight in the eyes.
I barely flinched when she said she wanted to take down Carlos Jones. Either she was sincere, or she was bullshitting. Either way, we were still locked in here. My priority was getting out, not playing by her tune. Not unless it suited me and my guys. Then I might consider it.
"Why should we believe a word you say?" Jay asked. "This could be some kind of setup." He glanced around the room, looking for cameras or microphones.
Nyla rolled her eyes. "I come in here suggesting you help me take down Carlos, and you think I'm setting you up?
Think about that for a moment. If anyone is listening to us, who are they going to point fingers at?
You, for lying there and being sceptical, or me?
The one who stepped into the room, sent everyone else away and laid my cards on the proverbial table?
How do you think that would go down if Carlos knew? "
"If you're putting yourself at risk, can you be sure he can't hear?" I asked.
This could be nothing more than some sick, twisted game. Pretend she was on our side before she screwed us over. Maybe she was bored and needed something to do. Why not fuck with us? People did less for shits and giggles.
"I can be absolutely certain," she said without flinching.
"I was the one who found this place and set it up.
I know how to turn the cameras and microphones on and off.
In fact, they're all connected to my phone.
" She tapped a pocket in her thigh, and the rectangular shape under the leather.
"No one can turn them back on except for me. "
"Unless they kill you and take your phone," Atlas said.
She shrugged. "Unless that. But they wouldn't know to do that, because he thinks I'm a good little general.
In actual fact, I've been working for quite some time to bring him down.
You just happened to be the perfect tool to help me do that.
" For a moment, she seemed sincere. The bravado an act she set aside and showed the real her underneath. A hint of vulnerability amongst women.
"Why do you want to bring him down?" I asked.
Did I believe her? Not really, but I might as well humour her.
For now, anyway. It wasn't like I had anything better to do.
Okay, I had about a million things better than this to do, but while we were locked in I was out of choices.
But I was still looking for a chance to get the hell out of here.
It might come from her if I paid close enough attention.
"Because he had my parents killed," she said. "They stood in his way. He wanted me and my sisters to belong to the cartel. In every sense of the word."
Her expression darkened that hint of vulnerability laid bare. In a way, she reminded me of myself. I had to shove that thought away, it was dangerous. Finding things in common with this woman made me the vulnerable one. I reminded myself she was the enemy here, not my new best friend.
Eyes hard again, she went on. "I pretended to be a dutiful woman. I managed to get his trust and work my way up through the ranks. Stepping on anyone and everyone that had a part in my parents' murder as I went.”
Now that I believed. Chances were, she had more blood on her hands than me and my brother did. Those boots of hers had likely indented so many skulls she'd lost count. Stepping on people was what the cartel did. They didn't care who, as long as they got what they wanted. She was no different.
She toyed with one of the rings on her ear.
“Carlos Jones is the last of them. But he's also the most difficult.
He's always surrounded by other people. Oh, I could shoot him in the head, but then I'd be killed too.
No, I need to separate him from them, and find a way they can't retaliate until I take over.
" Her eyes were glazed, clearly thinking about her plans, and relishing the idea of his death.
That made two of us. I was looking forward to seeing him dead too. I should be alarmed at how fast I was losing myself, but then I thought about Storm, Frost and Ramsey, and I was furious all over again.
"Who's to say you wouldn't be worse than him?" I asked coldly.
She smiled. "I might be, but I wouldn't be as bad to you as he would.
Or to any other women. The Crimson Vipers have always been led by a man.
An old one. That needs to stop. It's time for someone younger to step up and lead the cartel.
Someone who doesn't need to exploit vulnerable people in order to feel good. "
"Why you?" I asked. "Why not me?"
For the first time, she looked surprised. She didn't laugh, as I might have expected her to. Instead, she looked thoughtful.
"I'm not going to let you take this from me, but that's not to say we can't work together. You have the connections and the background. We'd be one hell of a team."
"What if I say no?" I asked. "What if I go to Carlos Jones and tell him everything you just said?"
She must have considered the possibility.
She was obviously smart. She'd thought through everything before she came here.
Every variable and every scenario. People like her, people like me, we had no choice.
We had to be careful, to make sure we covered every base.
If we didn't, we risked leaving ourselves exposed.
The moment we did, someone would take advantage.
That was as inevitable as the sun rising. More so.
"You won't," she said.
"You said yourself, Chelsea is his weakness," Atlas said slowly. "That gives her a lot of leverage. She might take your place." He didn't seem to hate the idea.
Nyla turned to him slowly. "There's a difference between being his weakness and being his equal," she said bluntly.
"He doesn't consider me either of those things, but I have his ear.
She never will. He'd hear what she has to say and use her anyway.
He considers most women to be nothing more than objects.
It took me a long time and a lot of work for him to…
I don't know, forget I'm female. He moved on to others and let me quietly work to get where I am now. "
She sounded so clinical about it, my stomach turned. "How young were you?" I asked softly.
She pressed her mouth into a tight line. I thought she might not respond. Finally she said, "Seventeen."
"I think I want to cut his nuts off," Dallas said softly.
“Go get in line," Atlas said.
"You're the one who worked with him," I pointed out coldly.
"Pretended to," Atlas said. He looked meaningfully at Nyla.
She looked back at him. "Convincingly."
"He couldn't have been that convincing; you said all of that in front of him," Jay said. Apparently he knew who he believed, and it wasn't her. Or at least, his faith in Atlas was firmly back in place.
"That might have been a test, to see if he ran off and told Jones," I said. I cocked my head at Atlas.
"I'm not telling him Jack shit," Atlas said. "I want him taken down, too. Before he touches my woman. And Jay."
"Our woman," Dallas corrected.
"Yeah, our woman," Jay said. "Or any of us." His gaze slid to Nyla, including her in that, even though we hadn't come to any sort of agreement. Evidently, he decided she could be trusted. Or maybe he also saw her as our way out. "What do we do?"
"The first thing you need to do is get dressed.
" She stood up and put the chair back to the side of the room.
"In an hour or so, he'll come here. We'll all be taken to a private airstrip and we'll board a plane.
At least, that's his idea. We need to do everything we can to avoid getting on that aircraft. "
"Unless you have a stash of guns…" I looked at her questioningly.
"Not that I can give you," Nyla said. “You need to do something more." Without skipping a beat, she told us what she had in mind.
"Hell no." Dallas sat up so fast, the sheet fell away from him. He grabbed it and jerked it back over his cock before pulling his pants back up from around his hips. "You can't be serious."
"Unless you can think of a better way." She looked at him sideways. She hadn't even glanced down at his body. All of her attention was focused on our faces and her plan.
"There has to be one." Atlas sat on the edge of the bed, beside Jay. "There's too much that could go wrong this way. It's too big a risk.” He chewed over that silently before asking, "What happens if we get on that plane?"
"We end up somewhere else I can't control." Nyla ran the tip of her finger up and down her thigh, just over her phone.
I shook my head. "He's not going to buy it. He knows I know he killed my boyfriends. He's not going to think I've turned to him that quickly."
"He will if you're a good enough actor," she said. "Which I know you are. You spent years pretending to be attracted to strange men while you danced for them. Pretending to enjoy it when they fucked you. You can pretend to be into him if you have to."
I grimaced. She was right, I did all of that. If I had to, I could make him think I enjoyed fucking him, but the idea made me sick.
"How do I know you’ll intervene in time?" I asked.
Dallas grabbed my arm. "You can't be serious. You can’t do this. We'll get on that plane. We'll find some other time and place to deal with him. The next time I see him, I can strangle him." His troubled eyes pleaded with me to do anything but this.
"Then you'll be dead," Nyla said.
"I don't care," he snapped. "As long as he doesn't touch Chelsea."
I slipped my arm around him and pulled him to me. "Losing Storm, Frost and Ramsey was enough. I can't lose you too. Even if I have to…" I couldn't finish the words. "Promise me you won't do anything that will get you killed."
"Considering what we're planning—" Nyla started.
I glared at her until she closed her mouth with a click of her teeth.
I turned back to Dallas. "I meant, don't take any unnecessary risks, especially not for me. We will get through this. We will.”
I drew in a long breath and exhaled slowly, trying to think of the possible scenarios and how many ways this could end up a huge shit storm. Too many.
“Can you get the guys out while I distract him?" Seeing them safe and away might be worth doing whatever I had to do with Jones. I'd been selfish in letting Dallas come here in the first place. I wouldn't do that again. I'd put him first, no matter the cost to me.
"Maybe," Nyla said vaguely. "It would be better if they stayed and helped with this coup."
"We're staying," Atlas said. "There's no way in hell am leaving here without Chelsea."
"Me either," Jay said.
Dallas didn't say anything; he didn't need to. I knew nothing would convince him to leave, unless he was forced. Even then, he'd resist.
"I guess we're doing this," I said with a sigh. What could go wrong?
Only everything.