Chapter 3
THOMAS
Thomas was already falling, taking Nadia down with him, before he realized that he’d lunged at her. It had been instinctual. Glass exploded behind him and he reacted. He landed hard on top of her.
He lifted his head to peer at her face, panicked he’d hurt her. Her eyes were rolling back in her head. Blood seeped from a thin line across her cheek, red ribbons leaking into her hair and over her ear.
“Nadia!”
No, no, no.
He hadn’t been quick enough. A shard of glass had struck her face. She was bleeding.
He slid off and crouched beside her, gently clasped her uninjured cheek. “Nadia.”
She lay absolutely still, unresponsive. He checked the pulse in her neck, his other hand feeling the back of her head. An egg was already forming. He swore under his breath, guilt clawing at him. He’d knocked her unconscious.
A pop sounded above him as something hit the wall. Pieces of drywall rained onto the floor beside her. A fine dusting coated her hair which fanned out from her head.
Thomas looked up at the wall, frowning at two newly formed holes, not quite comprehending what was happening.
Pop!
A third hole appeared right before his eyes and his heart rate skyrocketed. Someone was shooting at them.
He dropped over Nadia, covering both their heads as three more bullets hit the wall. Cold terror struck him. Nadia hadn’t been hit by glass. She’d been shot in the face.
Four more bullets fired, shattering two more windows before the deafening noise of broken glass stopped.
Thomas risked looking over his shoulder outside. He didn’t know who was shooting at them, how many shooters there were, or where they were. They could be on the ridge across the small valley or on the edge of his property, which was way too close for his liking.
His hands shook. His pulse pounded in his ears. He and Nadia were too exposed. They needed to get out of the line of fire.
More shots went off, blowing out the windows one by one. He grabbed Nadia’s arm and the waistband of her pants and dragged her with him as he scooted backward behind the bed.
She groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She stared at the ceiling then abruptly sat up. Thomas planted a hand on her chest and pushed her to the floor. “Stay down.”
“What the fuck, Tom?” She groaned and her hand touched the back of her head.
Another round of shots went off and Nadia, wide-eyed with terror, locked her gaze with his as they waited for it to end. Every window in the back of his house that overlooked the valley had to be gone now.
“What is happening?” Nadia asked before another volley of bullets came. Thomas counted. One, two, three…
He kept his focus on Nadia. Her face had gone stark white under the trails of blood.
“Who’s shooting at us?” she hissed at the next lull.
Thomas shook his head. Fear wouldn’t let him vocalize who’d found him.
“They’re destroying your house.”
“Least of my worries.”
Hidalgo Cartel activity along the border had picked up under the leadership of Fernando Ruiz’s sons, and he’d been having a bad feeling for months. He shouldn’t have asked her to come. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her because of him.
“We need to get out of here,” he said, speaking against her ear when the firing resumed. He counted the number of shots in his head. Each magazine had ten rounds before the marksman reloaded. That would have to be their short window for escape.
Four… five… six.
Whoever was firing was taking longer between shots.
“When it stops, we run.”
Nadia nodded. “We have to call 9-1-1.” She patted her hip. “My phone.”
Thomas searched the floor and spotted her phone among the broken glass. If he had his way, he and Nadia would be long gone before the police arrived, but he agreed they couldn’t leave her phone behind.
“I got it. Think you can stand?”
He suspected she was concussed but she nodded tightly. He counted the tenth bullet and quickly stood, keeping hunched over. “Go, go, go,” he said, assisting her to her feet.
She weaved and stumbled, her hand flying out for balance. “Dizzy.”
“Lean on me.” His arm went around her waist as he scooped up her phone, slicing his finger on a jagged glass edge. He grunted.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine.” He bit out the word as they raced from his room and down the exposed hall toward the garage. They made it to the kitchen before the shooter started firing again. They dove behind the island with Nadia trying to shield him.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
“They’re shooting at you, not me.”
“Christ, I don’t think they care who they hit.
” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her around to his front, bent his body over hers as they tried to make themselves a smaller target and ride out this wave.
“Head for that door when I say so.” He pointed at the door to the garage with a glance at her.
He had to look away from the blood on her face.
The sight of it enraged him as much as it frightened him.
She could have been killed. They both might die before the day was over.
Locking it all down, he narrowed his focus on their escape route and counted. He reached nine before the shooting stopped, and he momentarily wondered if he’d miscounted when he heard the crunch of glass.
Nadia turned her head, her uninjured cheek pressing against the side of his face. He felt her breath on his lips when she said, “Someone’s in your bedroom.”
“Yeah.” The sniper had either been close or wasn’t acting alone. They had to leave.
“Now,” he whispered harshly, grabbing her hand.
They ran to the garage. He was taking a risk going there.
He didn’t know who they’d run into out front, but he was betting whoever was shooting at them from the back had come up the valley.
Attacking from the front in broad daylight would be a bold move even for them.
Thomas had neighbors. Their homes weren’t close, but they did have his house in their line of sight.
Triggered by the sound of gunfire, it was possible someone had already notified the police.
While he hoped so, he wasn’t going to wait and find out.
Right now, his priority was getting Nadia into his car and driving them to safety.
He slapped the garage door opener, pressing himself and Nadia against the side wall and out of view while the door opened.
He watched and he waited a beat before he said, “Go.” He didn’t see anyone outside and nobody was shooting at them.
Though it wouldn’t take long for whoever was inside to realize there weren’t any bodies and that they’d escaped the house. They might have already figured it out.
They ran outside. Nadia headed for her car and abruptly stopped. “My key.” She must have dropped her key fob when he took her down.
She turned back to the house and he grabbed her wrist. “You’re riding with me.” He wasn’t letting her out of his sight since whoever was inside now knew he wasn’t alone. They’d follow her home and take her out just because she’d been with him. These people killed just to kill.
He pressed his wallet with the key card to the passenger door handle and the vehicle unlocked. “Get in,” he said as he opened the door. He tossed her phone inside. It landed on the dash.
“Where are you going?” she asked when he returned to the garage.
He grabbed the large black duffel bag he’d prepared weeks ago from the cabinet under his workbench and threw it into the trunk. He got in the car, slamming his door the same time Nadia did. “Buckle up.”
Her hands shook as she latched the buckle.
He was already out of the driveway before he had his belt on.
James once teased him for owning an electric car, accusing Thomas of being eco-conscious.
He was. But he bought the Tesla Model S Plaid for its exceptional acceleration.
Easier to shake a tail if he was being followed.
He sped downhill, leaning into the curves.
“Where are we going?” Nadia asked. One hand grasped the seat. The other held on to the door handle with a deathly grip.
“Don’t know yet.” He wanted to put a safe distance between them and whoever was at his house. He needed to think, and he had to make a call.
He turned sharply onto the main road and rapidly accelerated, weaving in and out of traffic.
“Pull over.”
“Not yet.” He wanted more miles behind them. He swerved into the opposing lane, ducking back into traffic to avoid an oncoming truck.
“Sick.”
Thomas glanced at her, catching her waxy coloring, and took a sudden turn into the Laguna Seca Recreation Area and drove until he crested the hill and his car wasn’t visible from the main road.
When he reached a wide turnout, he came to a sudden stop on the side of the road.
Nadia threw open the door, leaned out, and vomited.
Thomas took his first deep breath since the shooting had started and peeled his fingers from the steering wheel.
He also considered how easily his property had been accessed and how close they’d come to getting killed.
He’d been fooling himself thinking he was safe, that his problems from the past were where they belonged, in the past. Whatever false sense of security he’d had was wiped out in a matter of seconds.
He should have acted on his gut instinct.
Nadia retched again and his chest constricted with his concern. He got out of the car and retrieved a towel and a bottle of water from the duffel bag in his trunk.
They hadn’t the chance to eat the lunch he had delivered so there wasn’t much in her stomach. He waited for her to catch her breath and humbly offered the items, wincing at the blood drying on her face.
She took the towel and water with shaking hands.
“You’re sick because you’re concussed.”
“I’m sick because of your driving,” she snapped.
He nodded tightly, accepting her anger. It would ground her. They couldn’t afford her going into shock. They needed to stay level-headed. He hated that she was involved, but they had some hard decisions to make.
She wiped her mouth with the towel and startled at the sight of her blood. Flipping down the visor, she looked at her face in the tiny mirror, touching her marred cheek with trembling fingers.
“You were shot,” he said, at a loss for anything else to say. If he started apologizing for what had happened, which he was desperately compelled to do, he’d lose the slightest bit of control he was struggling to maintain.
He squatted beside the door and took a closer look at her cheek. The bleeding had slowed and the cut looked more like a superficial flesh wound. It could have been so much worse. If she’d been a centimeter more to the right… He swallowed through a tight throat.
“Nadia.” He should have been driving them to the hospital to have her face and head examined but he worried they needed to find somewhere to hide fast and wait out whatever this was. The hospital would be the obvious place to look for them if their attackers were aware Nadia had been injured.
“Nadia,” he said again more gently. She hadn’t looked away from her reflection. He needed to know that she was with him.
She inhaled sharply and smacked the visor into place. “Explain.”
Thomas took the towel and water. “I can’t.” He drenched a corner of the towel and tried to clean her face. She knocked his hand aside.
“Why was someone shooting at you?”
He shook his head.
“Don’t give me that.” She shoved his shoulder and got out of the car, forcing him to his feet and backward. “I deserve an answer.”
“I don’t have one.” Not one he was ready to give to her just yet. He needed facts first.
“Liar.”
His jaw locked and he tossed the water and towel in the trunk. “I need to make a call.” Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he walked away from the car so it didn’t pick up the conversation and she’d overhear.
Thomas remembered the day everything changed, when his eyes had been opened to a darker, more sinister world.
His father, Edgar, had pulled him aside.
He’d been approached by the FBI and questioned if he was aware of Phil’s activities.
The Hidalgo Cartel was laundering large sums of money through various USA import-export corporations and Donato Enterprises was one of them.
They’d bribed Phil into working for them.
The FBI sought Edgar’s assistance to report on Phil’s dealings, but since he’d recently been diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis, Edgar brought Thomas into the loop.
It didn’t take long for the DEA to come into the picture.
Their mission was similar to the FBI’s: target and dismantle the Hidalgo Cartel.
But they weren’t interested in the FBI’s money-laundering investigation and convinced the agency not to go after Phil just yet.
They were after a bigger fish: Fernando “El Carnicero” Ruiz, the leader of the Hidalgo Cartel.
AKA The Butcher. Those close to him had nicknamed him for the brutal methods he used to kill his rivals.
The signature “H” he’d carve into their flesh before their bodies were strung up to bleed out like cattle in a meat locker.
The DEA wanted to follow the money through Phil to locate and capture Ruiz.
With the information Thomas passed along to help with their investigation, Ruiz was eventually arrested and extradited to the U.S.
where he was sentenced to life in a maximum-security prison.
Thomas’s contact at the DEA had been Kane Mitchell. He phoned the agent now. It had been years since they last spoke, but Kane answered after the first ring.
“You heard?” Kane wasn’t one for small talk.
“Heard what?”
“I was planning to have you come in.”
“What’s going on?” Thomas asked, looking behind him to find Nadia right there. Their eyes met. What Kane said next should have shocked him. But after what had just happened, he wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“It’s Ruiz. He escaped. He’s coming for you.”