“You look lost, pendejo.” One of Ignacio’s followers ripped my gun from my hand and pressed it against my back.
“What can I say? The service around this place sucks.”
“Walk,” he commanded, pushing the muzzles of both guns against me.
I tried to pay attention to each twist and turn, but every wall looked the same. By the time we came to a stop in front of a large steel door, it felt like we went in another damn circle. He knocked twice, and a gravelly Spanish accent sounding like rusty nails on a bullet-ridden chalkboard answered.
“Tráemelo.” Bring him to me.
My brain fired electric shocks at the familiarity I knew shouldn’t be there. I knew the voice. I’d heard it in person. On the phone. Enabling me. Pushing me.
Informing me.
As soon as the guard opened the door, I took the steps on my own, my fists clenching. No one had to force me inside. I didn’t care if I walked straight into a bullet. I knew exactly whose gun waited on the other side.
And after all he’d done, that Colombian motherfucker had better shoot to kill.
He stood behind a metal chair at the back of a simple folding table. I didn’t know what I expected, a throne maybe? Definitely not some back-alley thrift store setup.
However, my mouth went dry the moment my eyes landed on what was in front of him.
“Brody…”
Adriana sat in the chair, with what looked to be a nine-inch blade pressed against her throat. She was pale and covered in blood, but she was here. I wanted to close my eyes and savor the sound of my name on her lips, but I couldn’t show weakness. So, I held her eye, making sure she felt what I couldn’t say.
I raised my eyes to meet the man holding the knife, his top lip curled up, his gray goatee framing a smirk I’d wanted to punch off his face for weeks. “Harcourt, I’d welcome you, but it seems you’ve welcomed yourself, not to mention made somewhat of a mess in my warehouse.”
I shot him a deadpanned look. “Carlos, or should I call you Ignacio? Which name do you prefer these days?”
He brought a lit cigar to his mouth with his free hand, ignoring me while puffing on the end. Blowing out a cloud of smoke, he swung a cold stare my way. “King.”
“Fuck you.”
The barrel of a gun pressed against the back of my head. “Want me to shoot him now, jefe?”
Ignacio waved a hand. “Leave us.”
The pressure against my skull lessened. “Are you sure? I don’t think…”
Ignacio rolled his eyes. “I don’t pay you to think.” Dropping his cigar, he stomped it out with his shoe. Before I knew what was happening, he reached for a gun, aimed it at my head, and pulled the trigger.
All I could do was blink, waiting for the inevitable white pain of the bullet or the darkness of death. Neither happened. A heavy thud hit the floor, and I turned to see the guard lying on the concrete, half his face blown off.
Ignacio let out an annoyed sigh. “Good help is hard to find.”
I didn’t have time to think about what just happened. Steeling my expression, I stepped out of the blood pooling under my shoe and made my way closer to the man who’d turned my life into a living hell. I had so many accusations. So many threats. So many questions. However, I couldn’t stop myself from asking the main one burning on my tongue.
“Why the act?”
He shrugged. “Entertainment? Come on, Harcourt, you had all the pieces. You were just too stupid to put them together. I toyed with you. I even told you Ignacio Vergara was Colombian after you and this whore visited my mother, remember?”
Jesus. All the information I gave him. It made me sick.
“How long have you operated on the sidelines, Carlos?”
“Long enough. I’ve watched all of you, but nobody bothered to see me. Nobody thought I’d have the cojones to come from behind and sink my teeth into both cartels’ jugulars.”
“Because you’re a coward.”
“You’re nothing in my world, gringo. I’ve been under your nose the whole time, and you never saw it. Plain sight, remember? I told you it was the last place people ever looked.”
Plain sight. Two words that took me back to a Chicago strip club. The defining moment that set everything in motion.
A tense breath whistled through his teeth, and another line creased his forehead before a slow smile parted his lips. “The man’s name is José Rojas. I don’t know how much you can find out from that, but that’s all I got. We both know their reach extends far beyond border walls. They’ve already infiltrated Chicago. If you ask me—”
“I didn’t.”
The smile on his face faded, irritation flaring in his eyes. “If you ask me, whoever has the balls to rebuild is hiding in plain sight. It’s the last place people ever look.”
Ignacio pocketed the gun, his hearty laugh drawing my attention back to his smug face. “You fell right into my trap because you’re weak. You were so fucked up in the head wanting to defy Carrera all I had to do was give you the nudge.”
I narrowed my gaze. “But Leo Pinellas—”
He growled, digging the knife deeper into Adriana’s neck, and the words died on my tongue at her sharp inhale. “I’ve been planning this for months, you stupid pendejo! Leo Pinellas was a puppet just like the rest of you. Who do you think was in his ear telling him to give you the goods on her?” He tightened his hold on the knife, and a tear rolled down Adriana’s cheek. “I knew what you’d do with it. I planned on it. I knew Carrera would be weaker without that Lachey bitch, but you couldn’t even close that deal, could you?”
Blinding rage shattered my control. “Shut up!”
I was coming unhinged, and the sick son of a bitch seemed to enjoy it. An assumption proved when, with a flick of his wrist, Adriana cried out, and a trickle of blood rolled down her neck.
“You’re being disrespectful, boy.”
“Touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
He held my eye and laughed. “She led your dick around on a leash, and you’re ready to die for her. How pathetic.”
Letting out a roar, I didn’t think. I charged. The instinct to protect her overpowered the need to keep her close. “Adriana, run!”
“Brody, no!”
My body snapped back as another arm wrapped around my neck pulling me back. “Let me go, asshole!”
Ignacio chuckled. “Run? She was with me all along, you fool. She told you as much in that piece of shit motel room, but you were too stupid to listen.”
“Shipment for seventeen million, right? Disappeared near the Chicago port? Brody open your eyes. Every contact you have is being turned. You can’t trust anyone. Not your friends, not your contacts, and certainly not your informants.”
“Not even you?”
“Especially not me. I wouldn’t if I were you.”
I turned a conflicted stare toward a wide-eyed Adriana.
Panic flashed across her bruised face. “He’s lying! Yes, he offered me a deal, but I was telling you the truth when I said I accepted just to get away from him. I always planned to bring him down. I didn’t care who I was...Marisol Muñoz, Adriana Carrera, I told him, and I told you—I bow to no one. Whatever I did it would be on my own terms.” She glared up at Ignacio. “Not yours.”