Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Xander watched in the rearview mirror as the truck parked and four skeleton-masked men hopped out. Fuck. Members of the Villarreal Cartel. God, he was so sick of those fuckers. They began to approach, armed to the teeth, and Xander grabbed the gun Essie had found in the glove box.
“What do we do?” she whispered, sounding panicked.
“Get down,” he ordered.
“Estrella?” one of the narcos called. “Are you in there?”
Xander froze.
“We hear your brother is looking for you,” he continued. “We can escort you back.”
“In pieces,” one of them added. They cackled. “Come out, come out!”
Xander’s head swung toward her, and his stomach sank. “Estrella?”
Pieces began rapidly clicking in his head. No, no, no. Essie—the innocent little siren who blushed when he took his shirt off and felt so fucking perfect in his arms—was Estrella María Fuentes Barrera?
Essie was José Barrera’s sister?
Sonofamotherfucker.
Shock pummeled through him, but he didn’t have time to deal with the chaos in his brain. He had narcos to kill, and his—and her—ass to save.
“Down,” he snapped again, then he climbed into the backseat.
Cursing his bad decision to escort her to Manzanillo, he checked the number of bullets in the gun.
Four—just enough. He shoved himself halfway out the open back window, propping his hip against it.
Lifting the weapon, he fired off two quick, well-aimed shots, taking down two of the men.
The remaining men dove for cover. Guess they hadn’t planned on the runaway sister of a drug lord having an armed escort.
Two left. No problem. The bigger problem was the woman crouched down on the floor of the passenger seat. José fucking Barrera’s sister. Goddammit.
Why did he feel so… betrayed? Like she’d broken their trust? Shredded it to pieces then shit all over it.
Get over it, Hawke.
Shoving his inconvenient feelings down, he ducked back into the car as a bullet whizzed by his head and dove back into the front seat. A fast and dirty plan formed in his head. He started the car and waited.
“Are they all dead?” Essie asked, sitting up straighter.
Xander ignored her, keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror. Waiting for the narcos to make their move. C’mon, fuckers. Let’s end this.
Impatience brewed in his blood. He’d always had a problem when it came to waiting things out. It’s how he’d wound up in that godforsaken cell for thirty-five days. He had a tendency to be bold, reckless. To find himself in over his head. But he always found a way out and beat his opponents.
And this time would be no different.
If the cowards wouldn’t come to him, then he’d go to them.
Shoving the gear stick into reverse, he hit the gas and slammed his foot down on the pedal. Essie let out a surprised cry, bracing herself in the passenger footwell.
“What’re you doing?” she shouted. The car’s wheels spun, kicking up dust, and they shot backward. Because of the flat tire, the car bumped across the uneven road, and Xander gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to maintain control.
“Ending this,” he growled.
The Volkswagen slammed into the parked truck, sending it careening sideways. Xander threw his door open, stepped out and began to hunt. Two tangos. Two bullets.
Turns out, he didn’t even need them both.
Xander found one target lying on the ground, already dead. From the looks of it, he’d been hiding behind the truck and got knocked right out of his boots when it flew backward from the force of the collision.
The sound of running feet snagged his attention, and Xander turned to see the other narco racing away. Coward. Lifting his gun, Xander aimed and fired. The bullet hit the man in the back of his skull and down he went.
Stalking around the vehicle, he peered inside. No one was hiding in there and he spied a cell phone on the floor. Despite some dents from him running into it, the truck seemed like it would run fine. Good. They needed four reliable tires to get them the rest of the way to Manzanillo.
“Xander?”
He clenched his teeth. Essie—correction, Estrella—had become a big fucking problem.
A part of him wanted to get in the truck and drive away.
Leave her juicy ass stranded there. She could hike back to town and wait for her bastard brother to come pick her up.
But the more conniving part of him began to wonder how he might be able to use her to his advantage.
Find a way to help him get to José in order to achieve his end goal.
“C’mon!” he yelled. Climbing into the truck, he swiped up the cell phone and called Brandon Ward. The former Delta Force operator picked up right away.
“Ward.”
“Hey, Ward. Bet you never thought you’d hear my voice again.” His attention shifted to Essie who was struggling to open the passenger door. Apparently, the collision did some extra damage to that side and the damn thing was stuck.
“Hawke! Holy shit, you’re like a cat with nine lives!” Brandon exclaimed. “We just heard from Mitch you were alive and being held captive.”
“I escaped.” Flat. “With a little help.” He couldn’t hide the dry and slightly amused tone as he watched Essie still trying to work the dented door open. “Put a little more muscle into it, Estrella.”
She glared at him. “Help me!”
“Who’s that?” Brand asked. “Do not tell me you picked up a woman already.”
“Long story. But, yeah, I have a female companion with me.”
“We’re coming down to get you. Can you get to the airport in Playa de Oro?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly where we’re heading.
” The Playa de Oro International Airport was located about thirty-five minutes north of Manzanillo, and they’d be driving straight there.
God knows, he certainly was no longer entertaining any thoughts about spending the night with Essie.
That ship fucking sailed the moment he learned her true identity. “Thanks, Brand. See you soon.”
“Be careful.”
“Will do.”
Essie managed to wrench the door open as he hung up. “Thanks for your help,” she muttered, climbing inside.
“Oh, I think you’re quite capable, Ms. Barrera. Especially if you’re anything like your brother.” Was that a fair comparison? No, probably not. Did he care? Not one bit.
She had the gall to look angry as he started the engine. He pulled back onto the road and began driving, freezing her out. Focusing on the pavement in front of him and his inner thoughts. The road was surprisingly smooth. His thoughts? Complete turmoil.
But distancing himself, clearing his head and coming up with a strategic game plan, seemed best. Because he’d vowed not only to kill Barrera, but also his entire family.
Now, no matter how much he hated Barrera, the idea of hurting Essie made Xander’s stomach revolt.
He might be a cold-blooded killer who could easily pull the trigger when it came to removing his enemies from the face of the earth, but Essie was different.
He’d sensed a certain innocence in her. A light, a goodness.
She was the complete opposite of her twisted brother.
Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder if everything that had happened between them was utter bullshit. Had she only used him to aid her escape? Were the kisses they shared merely a ploy to gain his protection?
“So now you hate me?” she asked flatly.
He pressed his lips together, staring straight ahead. A muscle jerked in his cheek.
“I have no control over who my brother is—”
“I’m going to kill your brother.” Blunt, cruel. No need to tiptoe around the facts.
“I know he’s not a good man—”
“He’s a fucking murderer!” Xander roared, cutting her off, and she jumped. Calm down. His fingers loosened, flexed around the steering wheel. Losing his temper wouldn’t solve anything.
“He killed someone you love,” she correctly and quietly surmised.
His nostrils flared, but he didn’t trust himself to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Xander,” she whispered.
“Sorry doesn’t help my sister.”
He glanced over and saw she’d gone pale.
“What did he do?” she asked, her voice hushed. And if he wasn’t mistaken, a little horrified.
“He kidnapped and raped Alyssa. Then slit her throat.” Guilt reared its angry, bitter head, and the backs of his eyes suddenly burned.
Fuck. He took a moment to regroup before continuing.
“He left her lying on the ground in a pool of blood for me to find…” That’s when it became fucking personal.
When he left the CIA and staged his own death.
So he could focus all of his attention on getting revenge on Barrera.
“Dios mío.” Her hand pressed against her chest, and he swore her eyes glittered with unshed tears before she squeezed them shut. When she opened them again and looked over at him, he saw so much empathy. And pain.
Why would she even care?
“José has turned into a monster,” she murmured. “I’m so very sorry for the hell he’s put you through. If I could do anything—”
“Oh, you can,” he interrupted. It’s clear what he needed to do. And he wouldn’t hesitate to use her to achieve his end goal. “You’re going to help me lure out your piece of shit brother. Make him slither out of his den so I can end him.”
Alarm filled her face.
He may as well be candid about his plans since she was now an integral part of them. “You’re going to help me get my revenge. One way or another.”
“How?” she whispered, looking slightly stricken.
“You’ll find out when I’m ready for you to know. In the meantime, you aren’t going anywhere except back to the States with me.”
When she didn’t argue with him and turned quiet, he relaxed back in the seat.
Good. He needed the silence to get his thoughts and plans in order.
They still had around four hours left to drive, and it would take the Motley Crew approximately that amount of time or a little less to reach Manzanillo’s airport.
He snuck a look from the corner of his eye to see her staring out the window. She seemed almost forlorn. Maybe he was misreading her, but it almost felt like she was mourning his loss, too.
But that made no logical sense. She never knew Alyssa.
She did lose a sibling, though. He remembered her mentioning her brother Miguel, and the sadness in her voice when she recounted how he’d been murdered, too. Perhaps they had more in common than he realized. Than he wanted to admit.
Because admitting that meant they had similarities. That Essie was a human with feelings and emotions. That she was more than just a narco princess.
All this time, I had no idea she was José’s sister.
“What were you running from?” he asked in a low voice. He’d made assumptions about why she fled, but maybe he’d been wrong.
Silence. Just when he thought she wasn’t going to answer, she whispered, “Isn’t it obvious? My brother.”
He should’ve asked her sooner, but there were things he wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
Or maybe he was losing his touch. Maybe he was having a hard time seeing past her deep brown eyes, full lips and tempting ass.
Because even though she was related to a murderous bastard, Estrella Barrera was the most infuriatingly lovely, most goddamn gorgeous, and most intelligent woman he’d ever met.
And he’d sworn to snuff that beautiful spark out.