Chapter Twelve
REX
I went through my day with a smile on my face, even when it came time to climb into the BearCat to be driven out to the beach for ocean training.
Swimming two miles with fins in eighty minutes while fighting heavy ocean currents was one of my least favorite things to do.
We all disliked the specialized training, everyone aside from Napoleon who was a Navy SEAL.
My teammate adored this type of training, but then again, he spent half his life in the water, so it was natural that he would find this kind of rigorous training a literal “day at the beach.” We also practiced combat fighting underwater as we held our breath.
Though Navy SEALs were accustomed to holding their breath for as long as three minutes, my endurance was nowhere near that.
We swam, ran in the sand, and stopped to lift weights that had been set up to test our limits, right there on the beach.
It was thoroughly exhausting, and by the time we’d finished up and were driven back to the office by Mars, I was ready to shower and fall face first into bed. Ocean training always exhausted me.
Tonight however, I had a date with my beautiful Puerto Rican hottie.
I showered with the rest of the guys, dressed quickly, and walked out to the car with Nash, Alain, and Patsy.
We said our good nights and I climbed behind the wheel of my Hornet.
The engine roared to life and by the time I finally pulled out onto Olympic Boulevard, I was champing at the bit to see Cachi.
I really hoped he was hungry because I was starving.
I’d worked up a fierce appetite after a long day training in cold water.
I pulled into the parking lot of Dance Hall Boys just after nine and jumped out of the car.
I walked through the bar to the back hall where I knew the dressing rooms for dancers were, after taking note that he wasn’t in any of the cages.
The corridor was empty and when I tried the door marked dressing room, I wasn’t surprised to find it locked.
The keypad which probably unlocked it was of no use to me, so I knocked.
When the door opened, I smiled broadly, only to feel my greeting fall away as I came face to face with a gorgeous ginger wearing deep black kohl eyeliner and not much else.
His lithe body, dressed only in a shiny gold lamé thong of some kind was slender like Cachi’s but unlike my Puerto Rican, his skin was heavily freckled.
His mouth instantly turned up at the corners as he lifted an arm, sliding it sensually up the doorframe and stuck out his hip, doing a pose.
“Well…hi there, tall, dark, and gorgeous,” he purred.
I ignored his greeting and looked over his head to see into the interior of the room lined with makeup stations surrounded by bright lights.
When I noticed the room was empty except for one other dark-haired guy clad in much the same attire, seated at one of the dressing tables, my heart squeezed just a little.
He stood up and smiled, sauntering over in bare feet, the light gleaming from the oil on his skin as he grinned at me.
“Move over, Kurt,” the newcomer said. “He’s obviously here to see me.
” He pushed the ginger aside and stepped up to me, reaching up to run both hands over my chest. “Wow, look at how well built you are.” His hand slid lower, and I instinctively took a step back.
He stuck out a pouty lower lip. “Don’t be shy, honey.
I just wanted to see if you were built that hard all over. ”
“Yeah, no,” I said, intercepting his hand which made another grab toward my crotch. “Not interested.”
“See? I told you, Todd,” the ginger said, elbowing the dark-haired man in the side as he switched places. “He’s here for me.”
I threw up both hands. “Actually, I ain’t here for either of you. Is Cachi here?”
Both men instantly frowned and Todd turned away, swishing his hips as he sauntered back to his table and flopped down into the chair he’d only just vacated.
“What do you want with Cachi when you can have me?” the ginger asked, batting red eyelashes at me. I noticed they were coated with red mascara that made them look obscenely long.
“He’s a friend of mine. Is he here?”
The ginger frowned, looking down at his manicure. “No. Larry fired him. He no longer works at Dance Hall Boys.” He glanced up and preened. “But don’t worry, you’ve got me and I’m a whole lot better at everything than that little Mexican.”
I gritted my teeth. “Cachi’s Puerto Rican,” I corrected even as I felt my stomach roll. “And what’d’ya mean when you say he was fired?”
“Just like I told you,” the redhead said in a bored tone. “Larry fired him because he was late to work.”
“He fired him for bein’ late to work?” I said, frowning deeply. “How often is he late?”
“Like never,” Ginger rolled his eyes.
“That’s bullshit.”
Todd stood up and sauntered back over. “He wasn’t fired for being late, idiot. He was fired for refusing to suck Larry’s cock.”
“What?” My outrage was immediate and judging from the expression on both their faces, more intimidating than I’d thought.
“Yeah, that’s Larry’s thing,” Todd said.
“If you want time off, suck his dick. If you want a change to the schedule, suck his dick. He’s a real piece of shit, but it’s not so bad.
You can’t beat the pay here so a little dick sucking…
or sucking a little dick—” He grinned. “Isn’t so bad now and then.
It’s Cachi’s own fault. Larry’s been waiting to get the Mexican’s lips wrapped around his little pecker for a long time. ”
“Cachi’s not…you know what? Never mind!” Explaining that Cachi was Puerto Rican to idiots who lumped all Hispanics into immigrants from Mexico, was useless.
I spun on my heel and stomped away from them before losing my temper.
I had to find him. The crowd had grown and I pulled out my phone as I headed for my car.
I called up Cachi’s number and dialed. He picked up on the third ring.
“Bueno.”
“Cachi? It’s Rex.”
“Hi, Rex. How are you?” He sounded upset, deflated like someone had sucked all the life out of him.
“I’m fine, sugar. Where are you?”
“I’m home. I sorry, Rex. I forget you pick me up tonight. You at the club?”
“Yeah, but that’s okay, Cachi. I heard what happened. You’re home?”
“Si.”
“Okay, sugar. I’m headed to your house. See you in thirty minute—” Pain exploded in my chest and everything…suddenly…went…black.
CACHI
“Rex?” I looked down at my phone.
The call had disconnected so I hit redial. It rang and rang, going to voicemail. I frowned, maybe he was out of battery. I hit redial again. The same thing happened as the call rang out before voicemail picked up.
“This is Rex. Leave me a message.”
“Rex, this is Cachi. Please to call me.” I hung up and stared at the phone as someone suddenly began pounding on the front door.
I jumped off the bed, jogging down the hall as Mamá walked toward the front door. I don’t know why or what made me do it—call it instinct—but I called out to her before she could get there. “Mamá!” I caught up with her as someone pounded again. “I’ll get the door.”
She rounded on me, eyes wide with surprise. “Cachi? Who it is, mijo?”
“Cachi!” a voice shouted from the other side of the door. “Cachi! Open up! It’s Marcello!”
“Marcello?” I flung open the front door just as I heard another noise behind me and turned to find Tio and Tia running into the front room. When I pivoted again, Marcello stood on the doorstep looking like something off the TV. Or the guys yesterday. “Marcello?”
Only then did I notice three tall men, all dressed in what I now realized was Tac Team clothing. All of them held guns which was why my mamá let out a scream from behind me.
“Marcello?” I asked again, shock coursing through me.
I didn’t wait for a reply as one of the three men turned, the other two keeping guard toward the street.
One of them was familiar and only then did I recognize him, Rex’s boss, Captain Candy Sorensen.
He stood there looking scary as the long scar running down his face shone under the porch light.
The other two men either side of him, I couldn’t see, but they looked equally intimidating.
“Cachi, let us in. We need to talk to you and then you and your family will be coming with us,” Marcello said.
“Cachi?” I turned to Mamá, who stood there looking shocked and worried at the arrival of the FBI. “What happening?”
“Cachi?”
I looked at Tio Francisco who stood with his arm around Carlotta who appeared as scared as Mamá. “It’s okay, Tio. I know these men.” I turned back to them, glancing at Marcello for answers. “What happen, Marcello?” I waved my hand up and down his body. “Why you dress like FBI?”
“Because I am FBI, Cachi,” he replied. “Let us in, please.”
I nodded numbly, feeling like I’d just been punched in the guts as I stepped aside. All four of them walked into the house and it was only then that the last one—a guy I’d seen talking with Rex out in Bel Air—closed the door behind him. I watched him lock the front door before turning around.
“Please, Mr. Adams,” Rex’s captain said, “time is of the essence. We need to get you and your family out of the house in the next few minutes.”
Tio, Tia, and Mamá all started speaking at once but I held up both hands. “Please, these are friends,” I told them.
“But, Cachi—” Mamá began when the captain walked over and held out both hands. She craned her neck to look up into his fearsome face as she held out her own hands. He took them, closing his fingers gently around hers.
“Mrs. Adams. Please. You, Cachi, and your family are in terrible danger. We need you all to go and pack a bag. Clothes, toiletries, medication, important papers. An agent will help you. We need to leave the house right now. Please,” he said, sounding very kind as he pleaded quietly with her.