Chapter 18 Cortez
Chapter eighteen
Cortez
Rage is all I see as I stare out the window, as if I could find Ramirez’s hideout. That bastard should be in Mexico. He has no business being here, yet somehow he manages to cause problems for me at critical moments.
I wonder if he’s working with them.
I almost draw blood on my palm as my fist clenches tightly. I’ve let Ramirez breathe for too long.
“Boss.” Alej’s voice brings me out of my thoughts, but I don’t turn back.
“Parlare (Speak).”
“Our tech guys are still working, trying to find any location that corresponds with the name White Dove. There’s nothing, Boss.”
I glance at my wristwatch. We have barely three hours left.
“Double down your efforts. We have to find it in time.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“And Selene?” I ask.
“We can’t find her. We’ve searched the mansion.”
I turn swiftly, my brows furrowing at his words. He inhales sharply, adjusting his stance.
“We think she fled through the east wing. Music room.”
“What?” My voice is low, barely containing the storm raging inside me.
His hands form fists by his sides, eyes assessing me cautiously before he says in a low voice, “Selene Vasquez has disappeared from the mansion.”
There’s silence for a long agonizing minute. Silence that feels suffocating, blanking out my mind. Then something snaps inside of me.
My hand coils around an empty bottle of whiskey, and before I know it, I smash it against the wall. A plethora of questions slam into my mind, each one elevating my anger to a greater peak. Is she involved? Did she run? Did Ramirez take her? Is she okay? Why would she run now?
“Find her! I want Selene back in this mansion before dusk.”
I barely see him nod as he disappears out the door.
“Dammit!” I ram my fist into the table, the wood groaning under the weight of my blow. That girl is damned if she thinks she can run away from me so easily.
The chair feels stiff as I sink into it, doing nothing but waiting, and that’s when I notice something foreign beneath the reins of anger I feel. Fear. For the first time in a long time, I feel fear.
Is she safe?
Wheels turn in my head, my brain overthinking every likely scenario. I swear to God, if anyone dares lay a finger on her, I’ll rip them apart.
Seconds turn into minutes, and the hours roll by as I sit, my fingers pulsing with anticipation. Just then, the door opens and she struts in, blouse rumpled, feet muddy, hands in fists, and expression unreadable.
My eyes are fixed on her as she sashays towards me with a smug smile, like she hasn’t just thrown the mafia into a frenzy. I feel the muscles in my jaw twitch, different emotions waging war inside me. Irritation, anger, and…relief.
“We found her en route from a bar on the outskirts of the city, El Callejón. She was being followed by men. The tattoo on their neck showed they were from the Los Hierros Mafia. Our men killed them.”
Fuck! Does she have any idea how dead she’d be if they had caught up with her?
Turning to Alej, I wave a finger at him, and he takes the cue. Once we’re alone, I stand up slowly, holding her gaze with a burning expression.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I let out through gritted teeth.
The way her eyes hold mine, bored and lazy, is enough to know she’s about to test me. She doesn’t disappoint.
“To see the Queen of England,” she says with a sassy roll of her eyes.
“Now’s not the time.” My voice comes out as a rough growl.
“I went to get answers.” She presses her lips into a thin line. My brows squeeze together as I shoot her a tentative gaze. Information on her father’s pipelines?
“And you had to do that by waltzing into the streets like a fucking easy target?”
She scoffs. “I couldn’t tell your self-absorbed ass anything. You wouldn’t have believed me.” Her tone sharpens just slightly, the corners of her lips curling in a frown.
Common sense demands she tell me. Alej and the guards would have gone even if I didn’t believe her. Just how reckless is she?
“That is not an excuse for recklessness,” I roar angrily.
Her nostrils flare as she leans over the desk. “I’m not trying to give excuses,” she bites back with equal fervor.
Tension sizzles the air, and I watch her expression harden with each passing second. Her brows are drawn tight, and her lips pulled in a hard frown that makes me want to smash another bottle. She thinks she’s making a point?
“Do you even think?” I bark.
“You should be thanking me,” she grits.
No. I should lay her on the table and fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.
“I swear to God, Selene, if—”
“Wh-What do you care anyway? I got information. That’s all that matters.” Her voice holds conviction, like that’s all that truly matters.
“My rules—”
“Oh please, not with the rules,” she rolls her eyes, and something snaps inside of me. In two strides, I’m in front of her.
I want to scold her, kiss that stubborn pout off her lips, and spank her until she writhes beneath me. Instead, I snake an arm around her waist, gripping her chin tightly.
“You could have been killed,” I say roughly, “or had worse done to you.”
I don’t know what it is, but the thought alone makes my blood boil. I tighten my hold around her waist, and she squirms, her chest rising and falling as she breathes heavily.
“Yet, I’m here,” she whispers, swallowing thickly.
There’s a familiar fire in her eyes that ignites the fuel in my veins.
My eyes fall to her neck, and I trail a finger down the length, my dick straining against my pants as I press myself against her.
Her low whimper reaches me, tugging at my senses, and my head falls to the side of her face.
Fuck. This girl drives me crazy. The effect she has on me is…crazy.
“I don’t gamble with what’s mine, Princess,” I whisper thickly into her ear. “Get that into your skull.”
I inhale the familiar scent of jasmine, enjoying how it eases the tension in my bones. Oddly, something about our position…holding her…soothes the ache in my guts.
“White Dove,” she mutters, and I yank my head backwards, furrowing my brows at her.
She licks her lip. “It’s a ship that last came through dock 39 of the Brooklyn Navy Yard.”
Realization hits me. White Dove isn’t a place, it’s a ship. I step back with a renewed sense of urgency, glancing at my wristwatch.
“Shit. We have barely an hour left.” In a flash, I’m behind my desk, drawing my guns as I dial Alej on the telephone.
“Dock 39 of the Brooklyn Navy Yard. That’s the White Dove,” I say once he picks up the call. “Ready the men. We leave now!”
I can feel her eyes boring holes into my head as I move swiftly, loading the two guns on the table.
“I want to come, too.”
“No,” I grit.
“Look, I didn’t waltz into the face of danger to remain a liability. Let me help.” She stands tensely, feet apart, shoulders squared. I almost yawn.
“A liability is exactly what you’d be if you went into the battlefield with me.”
“Cortez, please,” she adds, her voice a desperate plea. “Let me he—”
“Goddammit, Selene. I said no!” My voice ricochets through the office, belching waves of my anger. She stiffens, lips parting in shock to release a startled gasp.
What does she think this is? A fucking tea party?
Before I can call a guard to escort her to her room, she turns on her heels, storming out. Alej enters a beat later, posture tense and ready to kill.
“The men are ready.”
“Let’s go.”
In a flash, we’re in the SUV and the driver revs out of the mansion. I shut my eyes tightly to calm the raging storm in my guts. It feels like I’m having premonitions of the battle ahead. My jaw locks tight. Finally, I have them where I want them.
The car swerves to a halt. I watch men climb down to do a sweep of the area before following, Alej staying closely beside me.
The dock is just like the last one we visited, dry and empty looking.
There are three ships, moored just by the shore, holding containers that tower high.
I briefly wonder which is the White Dove.
“Sweep both. The middle one is mine,” I say to the men, eyes on the target.
They flank out, crouching low as they file inside the ships. I barely take another step when the sounds of gunshots ricochet through the air.
“There are men inside!” one of the men yells and immediately slumps from a bullet to his chest, blood coating the water crimson. Shit!
I dive behind a large container, watching as chaos explodes. Men roar, bullets hit relentlessly against the container, bodies splash limply into the water, and the echoes of gunshots tear through the air.
Just as I rear my head, a bullet whooshes past my ear. I turn to spot a shooter lying atop the middle ship.
“I’ll take down the bastard,” Alej grits and immediately curves out. Cocking my gun, I surge forward, shooting the first two men that come into view. They drop dead as I zigzag through the fray, occasionally taking cover until I land on the deck of the middle ship.
The second my boots hit the wooden floor, the loud roar of voices hits me. I press myself against another container, first listening before finding my way through the heap of containers.
The orders are loud, clear, and in English. “Faster guys! We don’t have much time left!”
I narrow my eyes. They’re not off-loading outside. Bringing out my second gun, I tense my muscles, moving to dive in when something reaches my ear.
Salient footsteps feather behind me, and I turn sharply, aiming my gun at the culprit, when I freeze.
My eyes widen, and my hold on the gun falters when I see her: Selene.
She’s frozen; her hands are raised in surrender, looking pale like she is about to pass out.
Jesus Christ!
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I told you I want to help,” she enunciates each of her words. This is suicide. What the hell is wrong with her? How did she even manage to get past the fray? Damn!
“Stay here and don’t make a fucking sound. Alej will come for you,” I say through clenched teeth. There are a thousand and one things I want to say, but this isn’t the place.
Just as I turn, a bullet whizzes through the air, piercing through a corner of my chest.
Fuck!
I barely hear her horrified gasp as my gun locks on target and I fire at the fucker. Thrice. Blood spurts from my chest as his lifeless body drops to the floor.
“Cortez!” she gasps thickly.
“Stay the fuck here,” I hiss angrily, gliding between the containers, a hand on my bloodied chest.
“Alej, find Selene. And yes, she’s fucking here! North of the middle ship.” My voice comes out strained as I slip into the corridor silently and don’t get far when a small door opens ahead.
From here, I can see men dressed in black jumpsuits with an oxygen tube attached to their nostrils. They’re shuffling about with air-tight containers. Then it hits me. The drugs are being passed underwater to a nearby facility.
A man comes out of the door, but before he can aim, I fire. Two clean shots in the center of his face. Everything pauses. Then, more men flood out, opening rapid fire.
My eyes widen as I burst through the nearest door, shutting it and ducking low to the floor. A sharp pain ricochets through my chest, tearing a grunt from my lips.
There’s no time to catch my breath as I shuffle upright, angling both guns. Rage clouds my vision. I yank the door open, shooting anything in my line of sight.
Bodies fall to the ground in heaps, and when bullets finish in one gun, I quickly roll behind a body, lifting it to absorb the bullets being fired while firing myself.
Suddenly, the roof above breaks open, and Alej jumps into the chaos, shooting until the remaining bodies fall limply to the ground.
“Shit, Capo. You’re hit.” His eyes widen when he turns to me.
“Selene?”
“She’s safe.”
I growl, “The drugs are being passed underwater. That room.” I point, and by the time Alej kicks the door down, the place is empty. No men, but the containers are still fully stacked. Jackpot! They’ve barely moved them.
“Blow this place up.” I clench my teeth, applying more pressure to the wound on my chest. My head suddenly feels light and the world starts to spin.
“All three ships!”