Chapter 22
MARTINA
A half hour later, after stopping at Marisol’s apartment, we pull into the same lot in the Zona Norte. Only this time, Marisol and Maxie are dressed like the hookers from hell. Complete with sky-high heels, ass-hugging skirts, and tops cropped so high, you could see the underside of their breasts.
“I honestly didn’t think Versace and Dior could look slutty.” I cock my head. “But you ladies have pulled it off.”
Marisol fluffs up her over-teased, over-sprayed hair. “With the wrong accessories and makeup that would scare a vampire, anything is possible.”
We hit the main street, and needless to say, they fit right in on the Calle Coahuila. It also helps they both speak fluent Spanish.
At dusk, the area is even more crowded than before, and during the half-block walk to Eduardo’s apartment, all three of us get numerous offers and invitations, even though I’m dressed in leggings and a tank top.
When we enter Eduardo’s building, we stop in the hallway.
“No matter what happens,” Marisol says to me, “you stay out of sight.”
My heart's beating double-time, but I’d learned to trust these women, and I’d come to realize they are as fierce as the men.
We reach Eduardo’s apartment, and I slip into the alcove of the staircase leading to the four floors above. Marisol and Maxie adjust their tops, making them even more revealing, then exchange a look.
I send up a silent prayer that whatever they cooked up works, and somehow Diesel, and even Eduardo, come out of it unharmed.
DIESEL
Benito took a picture of my busted-up face, then sent it to Smoke, along with a phone call. They had a very short conversation peppered with threats and a few fuck you’s.
Benito slams his phone on the table, mumbling in Spanish, then glares down at me. “Smoke just made a huge mistake, because if Martina’s not returned to me, there will be no deal with your club for the casino.” He points at me. “And you will never make it back to The Tropics.”
“Then I guess you’re shit outta luck ‘cause there’s no way we’re offering her up to make the deal.”
Like Benito said, it wasn’t my call to make, but Smoke would back my decision even if I hadn’t told him how I feel about Martina. In the last two years, we’ve blown through two cartel bosses without a second thought, but women and children were always off-limits.
I just have to stall with the hope that the Bastards are working on a plan to take this fucker down.
“Smoke thinks because you took down Hector last year that you have nothing to fear, but Hector was weak.” Benito paces in front of my chair. “Too busy worrying about his image within the cartel.”
“And you’re different?” I have to keep this asshole talking.
“I don’t bend for anyone, and I make too much profit for anyone to mess with me.” He looks at his watch. “I’m giving your president fifteen more minutes to decide if he wants to save your ass, or sacrifice you for some worthless cunt.”
“She mustn’t be so worthless if you’re willing to go to all this trouble.” I end with a smarmy sneer.
Benito advances. “That wise-ass mouth is going to—”
There’s a knock on the door, and Benito motions to Eduardo to answer it.
Female voices in Spanish, then Eduardo ushers in . . . Marisol and Maxie, dressed like hookers. They make a beeline for Benito, speaking rapid-fire Spanish.
Benito looks at Eduardo. “Do you know them?”
“We were sent as gifts from Umberto,” Maxie says to Benito in heavily accented English.
What the hell? My brain spins. Umberto Vargas is the cartel boss of bosses. With Marisol’s background, she would know this, but . . .
Marisol nods at me. “Looks like you already started this party. I’m liking the whole bondage thing.
” Then she climbs on my lap for a very exaggerated lap dance.
“I love a man all tied up at my mercy.” She grins at me, then shakes her tits in my face.
I can’t help wondering what Smoke would think of this act.
I’d be sure to tell him I didn’t enjoy any of it.
“Let’s get this party started.” Maxie whips out her phone, swipes at it, and the room is filled with very loud salsa music.
“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” Benito moves toward Maxie, but she wraps her arms around his neck, grinding him hard. He tries to move away, but she palms his cock. He wavers for a heartbeat, then turns to Eduardo. “You got anything to drink for these lovely ladies?”
Eduardo pauses, and Benito adds, “Might as well enjoy ourselves while we wait for the Bastards to respond.” Then he eyeballs me. “See how much you mean to your club? They don’t even give a shit about you.” He laughs. “Maybe I’ll let you have one last fuck before I end you.”
Marisol balances her palms on my shoulders, then bends low, nuzzling my neck, and whispers, “I have a blade. Just play along.”
I smile up at her as she runs her hands over my shoulders and down my arms, ending at my duct-taped wrists. She slices through the tape, and I twist my hands free but keep them behind the chair.
I shoot a look across the room, and Maxie is cupping Benito’s balls through his pants. The stupid fool is getting into it while Eduardo is rummaging around the kitchen for something to drink.
Marisol wraps her arms around my neck, then slithers down my body and falls to her knees. She runs one hand over my thigh as the other hand cuts through the tape around my ankles. Still shielding me with her body, she’s able to pull away the tape as she continues to gyrate her hips.
She looks over her shoulder, and she and Maxie exchange a slight nod, then she looks back at me, mouthing, “Be ready.”
Two seconds later, Benito screams as Maxie squeezes his balls, then kicks him in the crouch. He grabs his mid-section and collapses to his knees.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” He yells for Eduardo.
I leap out of the chair and tackle Benito to the ground. We wrestle around on the floor until he wedges his hand between us and whips the gun from his waistband.
I grab his wrist and twist, but the crazed look in his eyes tells me he won’t give up. I slam his wrist against the floor once, twice, three times before I’m able to twist the gun out of his fist. I bounce to my feet, raise the gun to his head, and a searing pain rips through me.
I whip around, and Eduardo knocks the gun out of my hand. It slides across the wood floor just as Maxie delivers a roundhouse kick to Eduardo’s head. He staggers but stays on his feet, clutching a bloody knife.
I press my hand to my side and a red stain appears. Fuckin’ bastard sliced me. Benito pushes off the floor, lunges for me, and Marisol launches herself onto his back, pummeling him from behind.
MARTINA
The walls in this dump are paper-thin, and a few minutes later, I hear loud salsa music. I assume it’s some kind of diversion until I hear yelling and bodies slamming into each other.
I barrel through the door, determined not to let anything happen to them because of me.
Eduardo’s eyes widen at the sight of me, giving Diesel a chance to deliver a crushing blow to his face.
Marisol and Maxie wrangle Benito to the floor, but I can’t take my eyes off the blood seeping out of Diesel’s side.
Two minutes later, the door bangs open, and Smoke storms into the room, followed by Blood.
Benito wriggles out of Maxie’s hold, lunges for the gun on the floor, spins around, points it at my head, and the room stills.
“Get out of here now, or she dies.” Benito’s eyes are wild and darting.
“Let’s all chill.” Smoke side-steps closer.
“Don’t move.” Benito grabs my arm and spins me around.
“Leave now, and no one gets hurt.” He wraps his arm around my waist, using me as a shield.
“You don’t wanna do this,” Diesel warns.
Benito waves the gun at Diesel and Smoke. “I just want her.”
Benito sounds calm, too calm. The kind of calm that happens before a tornado.
“I don’t think so.” Smoke edges around one side of the room while Diesel and Blood inch in the other direction.
He presses the gun to my temple. The cold steel freezes my insides. My heart slows, and the room takes on a surreal feel.
Benito walks backwards with me still in his grasp. “Leave, or I will pull this trigger.”
Benito cocks the gun; my knees weaken. Eduardo yells out, then rushes forward, hurling me out of Benito’s grasp. The gun fires, and a second later, Eduardo staggers forward, clutching his abdomen as he collapses to the floor.
The room erupts in chaos of yelling and screaming. I fall to my knees at Eduardo’s side.
“I’m sorry, sis. I know I’ve been a huge screw-up,” he whispers. “All the shit I put you through.” His eyes flutter, then close.
“Don’t you dare die on me.” I turn to the others. “We have to help him.”
“Fuck him,” Diesel yells. “It’s because of him you’re in this shit.”
“Please,” I beg. “He’s my brother.”
Marisol pulls out her phone and dials 911.
Benito darts for the door. Blood grabs him, but he twists out of his hold and charges out of the apartment.
DIESEL
“Let’s get that bastard,” Smoke shouts.
I lock eyes with Martina, and Smoke yells, “C’mon.”
“Stay with them,” Smoke orders Blood, then Smoke and I charge up the stairs after Benito. He’s got half a flight on us, and my head is pounding with every step, along with the blood oozing down my side.
At the fifth floor, Benito shoves through the door leading to the roof, and we follow him up. I stop on the flat roof, my breath sawing in and out of my lungs. I bend over and brace my hands on my knees, blood pumping out of my side at a dangerous rate.
“Where you goin’, motherfucker?” Smoke yells at Benito as he races across the tar roof.
I suck in a breath and catch up with Smoke as Benito hoists himself up on the ledge of the building. “What the fuck is he doin’?”
Benito gives us one last look. “You’ll never catch me.” Then he launches himself to the neighboring rooftop at least ten feet away.
“Son of a bitch.” Smoke runs to the ledge with me close behind.
I reach the edge just in time to see Benito gripping the drainpipe of the building, his feet grappling for traction against the crumbling bricks.
The metal groans, then bends under his weight, and his fingers claw for the edge of the cement ledge.
He frantically fights against gravity, his arms shaking under the pressure.
He turns his head in a silent plea, his eyes wide with fear seconds before he falls, his body hitting the cement below with a dull thud.
“Shit!” I peer over the edge.
Smoke shakes his head. “I’ll never understand why these morons run up.”
“Only one way down.” My eyes are transfixed on Benito’s prone body splayed out in the alley between the buildings.
Smoke looks me over. “Fuck, brother, you’re bleeding out all over.”
I lean against the ledge and grip my side. A deep burning sensation rips through me, and I’m suddenly weak as shit.
Smoke anchors my arm over his shoulder, and I gladly lean on him for support. We slowly make it down the five flights, then into Eduardo’s apartment.
Martina jumps to her feet, reaches out her arms, and the room spins. Then nothing.