I’d just found out firsthand.
However, no man’s hand or weapon would be a match for the rage thrumming through my body right now. I had four years of vengeance boiling in my blood, and if it was going to spill, there was only one man I wanted bathed in it.
I tried the door at first, knowing it would be locked. Emilio wasn’t stupid. He’d proven that. Giving it a swift kick, I beat on it with my fist. “Open this fucking door, Reyes. I know you’re in there. Open up or I swear to fuck, I’ll shoot it.”
I paused, giving him a ten second reprieve.
Nothing.
“Reyes!” I roared, kicking the door again. “Open this fucking door or I’m calling your wife and giving her a list of all the whores you’ve fucked along with a loaded Smith & Wesson.”
I’d just pulled my fist back to bang on the door again when the latch clicked, and it swung open. Emilio stood there, his smug face staring up at me, almost as if he’d been expecting me. Jerking my gun from behind my jacket, I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him inside, crashing both of us into the freezer door.
“Hola, Mateo. I—”
Lifting a knee, I drove it into his gut, cutting him off. “You’ll speak when spoken to, you piece of shit.” While he was bent over, I slammed my arm over his chest and shoved the barrel of my gun under his chin, forcing him upright. “Yes or no, did you send me into a trap four years ago?”
He held my eye, the smug smirk finally fading. Having a gun ready to blow your head off sobered any man, I supposed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“When I got arrested. Did you set that up?” I shoved the gun deeper into his throat. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
I didn’t know why I gave the warning. Emilio’s best skill was lying. It was how he still drew breath in his lungs. It was how he had the balls to look surprised while raising his thick black eyebrows.
“Why the hell would I get my best sicario locked up? Have you gone loco?”
Maybe I had. But he hadn’t seen loco yet. None of them had.
Releasing my arm from across his chest, I drove my fist into his gut. “Did you know I had a daughter?” I yelled. “You had my phone, asshole! You knew she tried to tell me.”
“Mateo,” he coughed, “what’s this all—”
I heard his collar rip as I pulled him to his feet, so I grabbed onto his throat instead, moving the gun to his temple. “Yes or no.”
“Did your little thief tell you that?” he rasped, his words abrasive from the pressure of my hold. “She’s broken into my office twice now. Did you know that? I’ve also caught a fed sitting across the parking lot ever since she started. You think that bullshit is a coincidence? I fired her ass tonight.”
He kept digging himself into a deeper hole and didn’t know it. He just assumed Leighton hadn’t confided in me about the DEA and I was ignorant to everything. It proved he had no idea what we shared and never did. It also proved he was a threat to her—and always had been. He also had much more to answer for than denying me my family.
Something just as unforgivable and way more damning.
“You knew about her stepfather,” I growled, tightening my grip. “You sounded happy to tell me what he did to her. How could you know something like that unless you had dealings with him years ago? You’ve also been talking to the feds. What the hell have you been doing behind Val’s back, Emilio? How deep does your betrayal go?”
Emilio’s nostrils flared right before he spat in my face. “Fuck you.”
It wasn’t the verbal or actual disrespect that set me off. As a haze of sheer black faded my vision, all I could see was Finn Donovan. I slammed my gun across his temple, giving myself enough time to shove it back into my waistband before he righted himself. As soon as I saw his face, I pounded my fist into his ribs, smiling at the cracking sound it made. Emilio buckled forward, but managed to retaliate with a backhand I caught under my chin. Driving full force into him, I landed a hard hit into his gut again followed by an upper cut under his chin that smacked his head against the freezer door. His unfocused eyes stared at me before he slid to the floor leaving behind a huge dent in the metal.
Too bad it wasn’t in his head.
Wiping a trail of blood from my lip, I pulled my gun out again and pressed it against his head. “I should pull the trigger for the shit you just pulled, but that’s against Carrera code. Only Val can make that call.”
Emilio leaned against the freezer, coughing through a laugh. “You’d kill me over pussy? You’re no better than he is.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Grabbing him by the hair, I leaned down and knocked out his silver tooth with the butt of my gun. “You cost me everything,” I hissed, jerking his face against mine. “I trusted you, and you stole my life away from me. For what, Emilio? Your own pussy? Don’t lie to me because I saw the tape of you and the mayor.”
He managed a bloody smile. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Val’s little protégé. Boy, I don’t give a shit about you, your whore, or your kid. It’s only because of me that little bitch has lived as long as she has.”
My blood ran cold, my grip on his hair loosening. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Insurance, Cortes. You think her identity has been a secret for three years by accident? If I had my way, you still wouldn’t know about her. I wasn’t the one who put her in danger.” Blood poured from his face, coating his shirt. “You want to be mad? You need to look one step below me.”
No. He was lying.
“Brody would never do anything to hurt his own family.”
“Think so? Your boy Harcourt let the cat out of the bag about your kid, Cortes. He’s the one who put a target on that little girl’s back. Not me.”
Fucking liar.
I stumbled back, slipping in the trail of blood. “But Luis was after Leighton.”
Emilio slowly lifted his chin and delivered the blow he’d waited for. “Was he?”
I struggled to breathe as he laughed, one word searing through my soul.
Leighton.
Seeing her car parked outside the townhouse calmed the beast inside me. I’d needed to find her first because if I got to Brody, I was afraid I’d do something I couldn’t take back. There couldn’t be any more secrets between us when I confronted the man I’d convinced Val to break tradition for and bring into our family.
Racing up the stairs, I barely managed to get the key in and unlock the door before shoving it open. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her, but even I didn’t understand the overwhelming need in me to control her. It wasn’t about making her feel weak—far from it. I never wanted Leighton vulnerable again. My need for control stemmed from the ignorance I felt, and that word sickened me.
I’d been ignorant to the horror she’d suffered at the hands of her stepfather. I’d been ignorant to the loneliness she endured raising our child by herself, and I’d been ignorant to the conspiracy going on behind both our backs involving people on every side of the triangle in this fucked up equation. We’d wasted so much time blaming each other for the shape we were in, we ignored the fragile shape we’d become .