Sitting back in my chair, I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. What the fuck would I say to Lita’s cousin? How the fuck would I get her to trust me? To get a message to Lita?
“Fuck!” I spat. But Adelita’s face was immediately in my head. Driving me forward. Fuck, since the day that bitch had entered my life, she was all I could see. The one who controlled me.
Snatching the camera and tool kit from beside me, I left my room and walked past the bar. Brothers were inside, as usual. But I ducked past and got in the truck. My pulse raced faster the closer I got. For the first time in two years I was going to speak to someone who knew Adelita . . . someone who, after she was released, could get a message to her.
Tank stood off the wall he was leaning against as I parked up the truck. “Cameras?” I nodded, pointing at the stuff in the cab. Bull came over and started taking the cameras into the warehouse.
“Bitch still calling y’all out?” I said, gesturing to the warehouse.
“Yeah,” Tank said. “Beauty’s been in there a while, and that seems to have shut her down some.”
“Where exactly is she in the warehouse?” I pushed my hand through my hair. “So I know where to point the cameras.”
Tank stepped closer to me. “When you’re in there, don’t mention shit about Adelita. Right? Keep quiet. Don’t piss Styx off. We’ll work out a way to get Adelita. Now ain’t the time.”
I nodded and went into the warehouse. Bull showed me where he’d dumped the stuff, then left to stand guard with Tank. Tank had warned me . . . but I didn’t fucking intend to keep my mouth shut. I needed to know about Lita.
The three prospects were standing outside the small room I knew the cousin was in. I tipped my chin to them. Slash and Zane came over. “Bull told us to help you,” Slash said.
I tore my eyes away from the closed door of the back room. “Good.” I cleared my throat. “We’ll start over here. I show you one, then y’all can split up and do some of the others.” I led them to the far side of the warehouse. Ten minutes later I was installing the first camera, talking them through it, while Slash held the ladder I was on.
“You learned all this in the army, right?” Slash asked.
I looked down at the kid. He looked like Smiler. I knew he was Smiler’s cousin, around nineteen. Didn’t know more of his story than that. “Yeah, communications.”
“Cool,” he said. “Been thinking about the army too. Smiler thinks I shouldn’t bother. Just work on bikes and stay with the Hangmen.”
“My uncle said the same,” Zane, AK’s nephew, said. I watched the kid as he ducked his head and looked away. Because it wasn’t just AK who had served. It had been his old man too. The guy who, because of a fucked-up mission that led to his kidnapping and a truckload of PTSD, killed Zane’s mom and then himself. Kid was raised by his aunt, fucking orphaned.
When I got off the ladder, I said, “I served because my old man told me it was my patriotic duty.” Zane put his hands in his pockets, but both he and Slash listened. “I learned a lot in the army. But I’ll tell you now, kids. Don’t go into war unless you fucking believe in the cause you’re fighting for.”
“Like now, you mean?” Slash asked. “This war we’re in now with the cartel and the Klan.” Slash’s eyes widened. “I mean, you . . . them . . .”
I put my hand on Slash’s shoulder. “It’s all good, kid. I know it’s fucked up with me and the Klan.”
“But you’re a Hangman now, right?” Zane asked. I smirked, seeing a mini AK staring back at me.
“I am.” I let my eyes drift to the door of the back room again.
“She’s fucking loud,” Slash said, running his hands through his hair. “Bitch hasn’t stopped shouting in hours. I got a fucking headache.”
“She’s quiet now,” I said.
“Beauty probably muzzled her.” Ash stood off the door, smirking as he finished his smoke and tossed it to the floor. “My fucking ears hurt from all the noise. I need a fucking drink.”
Turning to Zane and Slash, I said, “You saw how I installed that last camera?” They nodded. “Go do the same in the other rooms.” I turned to Ash. “You go too. I gotta get these cameras up fast. They’ll show you how.”
“Good luck.” Ash followed his brothers to the far-off room. Taking hold of a camera, I knocked on the door.
Beauty answered. She looked flustered, but when she saw me she painted on her smile. “Hey, darlin’,” she said, holding the door ajar. “You here to set the camera up?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Then I’m taking a break. I need a fucking drink. Watch her while you work—she’s one feisty bitch. I usually respect that in a woman, but right now I wanna punch my fist into her teeth just so her mouth’s too full to keep screaming. She’s working my last nerve.” She smiled wider. “I won’t be long!” Beauty walked out of the warehouse.
The door was open, but the room inside was dark. Taking a long breath, I pushed through the door. The back room was small, with only a dim lamp as the light. But I saw the cousin in the corner, covered in shadows. Her head was down, and her dark hair was blanketing her face. Her hands were tied with rope, as were her feet. The wedding dress she wore covered most of her body. I squinted, trying to make her out, but in this dim light, it was impossible.
Checking no one was in the main body of the warehouse, I shut the door and bolted it. My hand tightened on the knob, but then I manned the fuck up and turned. I walked straight to the bitch in the chair, and she must have sensed me, because she lashed out with her bound legs and spat, “Cabrones! Los odio!”
Her head snapped back as she thrashed to get near me. I stood my ground, waiting for her to calm the fuck down and stop. Her long dark hair flew back off her face, her mouth opened to spew more shit my way, then her eyes locked on mine and . . .
I froze.
Couldn’t fucking move.
Every cell in my body went rigid. I wasn’t even fucking breathing.
My heart started smashing against my ribs, and my muscles tensed until I thought they might snap. And I never moved my attention from those eyes. Dark brown eyes, long-as-fuck lashes, and those lips . . . those fucking full, perfect lips.
My chest squeezed my lungs like an iron fist, and my damn hands started to shake . . . because I didn’t trust my eyes. Didn’t fucking trust myself to believe who sat before me.
Her eyes widened, and I watched as her face drained of blood. She blinked like she couldn’t believe it either, then her eyes filled with tears . . .
“Tanner?” she whispered in disbelief. I had to shut my eyes as the sound of her voice hit my ears. “No . . . it can’t be . . .” she cried. My breathing and heart synced to one beat, both of them drumming in my ears. Opening my eyes, I shook my head. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her . . .
“Ad . . . Adelita?”
The rasp of her name off my lips filled up every inch of the silent room like a thick smoke. Her eyes closed, and a tear fell down her cheek.
Then I looked at her . . . really fucking looked at her, and shit filtered through.
She was in a wedding dress. The shock that had kept me in its chokehold started to fade. And like hot blood off a sharpened knife, the shock, the fucking relief that it was Adelita sitting before me, melted away . . . and in its place came confusion, disbelief . . . then anger. Red-hot fucking anger. Because it hadn’t been Adelita’s cousin who was getting married . . . it had been her.