I could hear his reluctant footsteps fall into line behind me. And I could also hear my heartbeat echo loudly in my ears.
It was beating way too fast.
Chapter Three
Tanner
“Do not fuck this up for us. We need this deal. If we are to realize the future we’ve worked all these years to make a reality, we need cash. A lot of it. This deal with Quintana can give us that. Do as he says when we’re there. And don’t you fucking dare fuck this up for me.”
My father’s words circled in my head as Adelita Quintana walked ahead of me through the grounds. I gripped my smoke so hard that I crushed the tobacco in my grip. Curling my lip, I threw it to the floor. As Adelita turned a corner, smiling wide at some suited-up guard I could easily snap in two, I told myself to calm the fuck down. Like she’d touched me with fire, I could still feel the touch of her hand on my chest.
Her dress fell to mid-thigh, showing her long legs. Her almost-black hair fell down her back. As if she could hear my thoughts, she turned to look at me over her shoulder and gave me a wide smile, her whore-red painted lips making her look like a cheap slut.
And her smile at me was completely fake, I was sure.
My stomach tightened at the sight of that fucking smile. She thought herself so important. But I knew better. I knew where we all stood in life.
The dick she’d been talking to suddenly got in my path. I stopped dead, towering over the douche with slicked-back black hair and a black suit. He glared at me, then dropped his eyes and ran them down my bare arms. My lip lifted in amusement as he studied each one of my tattoos. That’s right, bitch, I thought. You’re looking at the fucking future.
“Vincente,” Quintana’s daughter said. Her hand went to the dick’s arm. She said something to him in Spanish I didn’t understand. Her nails were long and painted red too. Did this bitch not know how to wear any other color?
The guard stepped back, but not without showing me the gun he was packing in his holster. I gritted my teeth, pissed off at these fuckers even more—if that was possible. Quintana made me give up my guns at the door. Said it would show trust. The cocksucker just wanted to see us submit. I knew the truth. He was scared of us. Scared of what we were capable of.
But my father had made me lose my weapons. Told me we had to choose our battles if we were to win the upcoming race war. Use our enemies until we crush them in the streets.
“Come,” Adelita said to me and waved her hand. She turned down a graveled path that led to a massive garden. There were flowers and bushes everywhere. Hearing footsteps behind me, I looked back. The guard—Vincente—was following us. He kept far enough back that he was out of earshot, but I didn’t like that fucker being anywhere near me.
“So, Tanner Ayers.” Adelita’s heavily accented voice pulled my attention back to her. She smiled at me, but I saw straight through that smile. She disliked me as much as I disliked her.
Good. At least we both knew where we stood.
I couldn’t get my eyes off her. Her lips were too full and her teeth were too white. Her eyelashes were too long and that red lipstick was pissing me the fuck off.
“How are you enjoying my lovely country?” I glared at her, refusing to play her fucking game. Adelita ran her hand over the leaves from a low-hanging tree branch. She smiled wider.
The bitch was enjoying this.
She stopped. So did I. She walked to me and stood her ground—too close to me, again. All I could smell was her shitty perfume—it was too strong, fucking darting up my nose. It smelled of flowers and fruit and other crap that I’d never be able to clear my nose of. Her too-big brown eyes locked on mine. They were so dark you could barely see the pupil. “Cat clawed your lips?” she said and tipped her head to the side.
Annoyance sliced through me. I leaned down, got right in her face. “It’s ‘cat got your tongue.’” Her hair blew past my face and touched the stubble on my cheek. It smelled of coconut. My teeth gritted together. “If you’re gonna try to speak English, get it right.”
“I got it wrong?” Her smile dropped, only for her eyes to spark with something I couldn’t read. She stepped closer. So close that her big tits brushed against my chest. “I’m just a lowly Mexican woman. I no speak English that well.” Her lip twitched, then she resumed walking. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Come, Tanner Ayers, White Prince of the Ku Klux Klan. We shall continue with the tour.”
I tensed. Her thick accent had dropped; perfect English fell from her lips. My fists balled at my sides when I heard the prick behind us snicker. I started walking, wiping sweat from my head. “Too hot, señor?” Adelita asked.
“I’m Texan. I fucking know heat,” I hissed. Adelita fell into step beside me. My fists clenched tighter at her closeness. The bitch was doing it on purpose to rile me.
Amusement flashed on her face, but she quickly schooled her features. Her daddy had taught her well. She was a good little cartel princess. Not letting her emotions rule her. Not letting her “enemies” best her. “This way, Tanner Ayers. I have more of my country to show you. In fact, I have planned many days for us just like this. I’m sure you’re going to very much enjoy it . . . you will adore Mexico before you leave.”
My hands shook with anger. But I had to play the game for the sake of the cause. Then she’d be sorry. They would all be sorry when we prevailed . . .
I woke, still feeling the heat of that day on my skin, and rubbed my hands over my eyes. I could still feel Adelita standing close to me. Still feel the annoyance in my bones when she stood so close . . . still smell her perfume that I’d never been able to forget, the coconut scent of her hair . . . still see the red of her lips, her long lashes, her brown eyes . . .
The banging on my door ripped me from being lost inside my head. The door opened and Tank stepped through. “Church. The Diablos are here.”
“Why?” I got up from my bed. I slept like shit. I threw on my jeans, a black shirt, and my cut.
“Chavez and Shadow are here. Got some intel on Quintana.” Tank’s face frosted over. “Shadow heard whispers that the fuckers are planning to come at us strong.” I nodded my head. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey off my table, I took a mouthful. “You good?” Tank asked.
I nodded again. Truth was, Tank didn’t know it was Quintana’s daughter I was fucked over, just some cartel princess. I was waiting for him to put together the pieces. Her name being Adelita. The Klan in business with Quintana. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out. Only one person knew the truth—Hush. I fucked up and told him one night. Had too much fucking whiskey and told him. I knew he hated me. I’d wanted to show him I didn’t hate him. That I wasn’t the White Prince no more. I didn’t know if he’d told anyone. Didn’t know if Styx knew.
“You sure?”
I nodded again, then followed Tank to church. As always the place was crammed. I stood at the back, ignoring the few stares that came my way after yesterday’s shitshow. I felt someone come up next to me. Rudge crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “Alright, mate,” he said, his British accent instantly annoying me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Slept off the Nazi shit from yesterday?”