Chapter 3
Chapter three
Xander kept his face carefully blank, neither confirming nor denying his identity.
“Imagine having you locked up here all this time, right under my nose, and not knowing I had the fucker who’s been trying to kill me. Irony at its best. Am I right?” Barrera chuckled.
Xander’s back teeth clenched. He supposed he could deny it, but someone must’ve figured it out and told Barrera.
Lying would be pointless. He wasn’t exactly unknown to the cartel.
When he worked for the CIA, destroying Fernando Lazaro and his soldiers had been Xander’s job, and he’d been ruthless in his pursuit of that endeavor.
His sister had ended up paying the ultimate price when they kidnapped and murdered her as a message to him.
Needless to say, shit got real fucking personal real fucking fast after that.
Xander had vowed revenge. Since the CIA never would’ve sanctioned a revenge mission, he’d faked his death and gone off grid.
Became one thousand percent focused on killing the man responsible for destroying the only bright light he’d ever had in his life.
José fucking Barrera would pay.
While moving around in the shadows of Mexico, he’d discovered Mitch Evans, an old friend, was being held prisoner by the cartel.
He’d informed Julia, Mitch’s daughter, and she, along with Brandon Ward, had traveled down to meet him for further intel.
Xander had no problem telling them where Mitch was being held.
Or showing up to help after Brand and his crazy crew blew up Fernando Lazaro’s compound.
With smoke rising and the building crumpling in on itself, Xander had picked his way through the wreckage and rescued Brandon, who’d been trapped under a beam. Once they found Julia, they’d run straight into Fernando Lazaro, the drug kingpin himself.
Xander had asked him point blank where his second-in-command was hiding.
Lazaro had needed a little persuasion, and after slicing off his finger, along with several other body parts, the man started talking.
Eventually finding out Barrera’s location was nice, but it hadn’t stopped Xander from beating Lazaro to death with his bare hands.
Or hanging Lazaro’s digit around his neck like a macabre souvenir.
Unfortunately, the object of Xander’s hunt was more paranoid than his predecessor.
While Lazaro remained out in the open and flashed his illicit gains, Barrera kept under the radar, constantly on the move, and liked to hide in more out-of-the-way locations.
So by the time Xander followed up on the intel provided by Lazaro, his good buddy Barrera was already gone.
Now, looking at José Barrera, Xander’s fingers curled into his palms, his nails digging into the flesh. He’d never wanted another man’s blood as much as he wanted Barrera’s. It was like a sickness, slowly eating him up inside, until he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“No comment?” Barrera gave him an oily smile. “How about if I tell you I found out another very interesting piece of information?” The grin turned downright evil. “Unbeknownst to me, I entertained your sister a little while back. She’d been a gift from Lazaro.”
Xander’s gut clenched, churning with a loathing disgust that nearly made him physically ill. His famous control slipped a notch—
“I can’t remember her name, but I’ll never forget her screams.”
—then completely shattered.
White-hot rage exploded inside him and Xander threw himself against the bars in a lightning-fast move.
Barrera didn’t have time to step back as Xander’s arms shot through the iron slats.
His fingers wrapped around Barrera’s neck and squeezed so hard the other man choked and struggled, black eyes trying to pop from his skull.
The two men with him jumped into action, slamming their fists against Xander’s forearms, struggling to break his steel grip. It took both men and a gun muzzle shoved against his forehead for Xander to release the bastard.
Gasping, Barrera stumbled backward, tripping over his own snakeskin boots. Hand on his throat—a hand which trembled slightly—and gaze slightly shocked, he coughed. Xander had wanted to crush his windpipe, but those two asshole guards had stopped him in the nick of time.
Fuck.
Rolling his shoulders back, Xander shook his arms out and forced himself to find his control again. “Why don’t you come in here? So we can talk.”
Another sputtering cough erupted from Barrera as he attempted to regroup.
Straightening up, he adjusted his jacket with jerky motions.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A cage match would appeal to you because you’re nothing but a barbarian.
” Barrera looked down his nose at Xander and scoffed.
“You look like a wild animal. I, however, am more civilized.”
This time Xander was the one who choked. On his laughter. “You are the furthest thing from civilized,” he gritted out.
“I’m a businessman,” Barrera continued. “You’re CIA scum.”
“I’m no longer with the CIA.” Xander locked the other man in his sights.
“Then why the hell are you here?”
“To make you bleed,” Xander hissed.
His threat made Barrera take a small step back, but he easily mustered up his bravado since Xander couldn’t reach him.
“Let me guess. Revenge for your sister?” His lip curled in a half smirk, half sneer. “I’m beginning to remember her. Blonde with blue eyes, right?” He licked his lips. “Mmm, my favorite type of bitch.”
Xander’s nostrils flared. “Don’t you talk about her,” he gritted out.
Barrera slipped his hand beneath his jacket and removed a dagger.
The blade gleamed and several gems were encrusted in the handle.
“She cried a lot. I think she was a virgin.” The guards chuckled, and a haze of red descended over Xander’s vision.
“After I was through with her, there wasn’t one hole I hadn’t fu—”
With a roar, Xander launched himself against the bars again. “You’re fucking dead!” He reached out, clawing at the air, trying to grab the sick sonofabitch. But Barrera just laughed.
“I finished her off with this very knife. She barely made a sound at the end.”
Xander’s arms dropped and he retreated back into the cell.
Goddammit to hell. Pulling in deep breaths, chest heaving, he swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.
Alyssa had been a sweet, good, loving woman.
She’d overcome so much in her life. And she definitely hadn’t deserved to die in such a horrific way at the hands of this motherfucker.
If iron bars weren’t between them, Xander would’ve delivered a world of pain to the man in front of him.
Would’ve completely obliterated his pathetic existence.
Instead, he turned and puked.
More laughter rang out behind him, but Xander tuned it out. He’d been trained to resist mental and physical torture but hearing what his baby sister had endured in her final moments made something inside of him snap.
There was no training for accepting or understanding that level of maliciousness. And, ultimately, he blamed himself for putting her in harm’s way.
“Having an ex-CIA agent locked up down here is a nice prize, but you need to learn some respect.” Barrera’s bravado returned and he puffed out his chest. “Teach him some,” he ordered his guards.
Neither man moved right away, exchanging wary looks instead.
“But don’t open it until after I leave,” Barrera added under his breath.
Coward. Xander watched him walk away, then turned his attention to Barrera’s guard dogs. They looked more nervous than usual. Good. “Well? What’re you waiting for?” he taunted, hands curling into fists.
Keeping their guns aimed at him, the taller one with gold grillz over his teeth radioed for backup.
Xander couldn’t help but smirk. It took six armed men to enter his cell and hold him steady enough for any of them to beat on him.
He did his best to fight back, but eventually—as he knew they would—they won the lopsided battle.
Curling into a ball to protect his vital organs, Xander closed his eyes and let them punch and kick. He barely felt the attack. In fact, he welcomed it. After letting his sister fall into Barrera’s vile clutches, Xander deserved each punishing blow.
Eventually, the thugs left. Xander rolled onto his back, staring up at the rocky ceiling of his cell. And the reality of his situation hit him harder than the beating he’d just endured.
I’m going to die down here.