The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)

“Evan’s parents hosted the engagement party two days ago. My mom handled the invitations.”

Carefully avoiding my eyes, she nodded, accepting my excuse without complaint. She knew my mom wouldn’t invite her, but it didn’t nullify my behavior. I’d been a bad friend, and I wanted to make it up to her.

“Tell me about it. Was it nice?” she asked, but I could tell she didn’t care about the answer. My inability to get my shit together hurt her. I’d alienated my only true friend.

I swallowed over the lump growing in my throat with alarming efficiency. “No,” I admitted. “I hated it. I hated the flowers. I hated the food. I don’t want to marry him.”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Why? What are you saying?”

“Evan was waiting for me when they released me—”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “When who released you?”

I sucked in a weighted breath. “The Vargas Cartel. From what I pieced together, they abducted me as leverage to secure the release of Ignacio’s son from a U.S. prison.”

“Ignacio?”

“Ignacio is the head of the Vargas Cartel,” I clarified. “I guess they’d been watching me for a while. As the attorney general, my dad can influence the pardon process. That’s why they took me. They wanted to force the U.S. government to release Ignacio’s son.”

Vera’s mouth opened and closed at least three times before she spoke. “Did they hurt you?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question. People asked me that same question so many times in so many ways I’d lost count. She scanned my face looking for clues, or scars, or whatever people thought they could see.

My eyes dropped to my lap, and I brushed my hand over the faint pink scar on my neck. Ignacio had nicked my neck with a knife during a live video conference with Evan and his dad. Ignacio’s assault scared me, but my relationship with Ryker damaged me deep down where Ignacio never could. He made me want him. Crave him. Need him.

I smirked, but the action felt forced and unnatural. “I’m still alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Have you told anyone what happened?”

I shook my head, trying to erase the conflicting emotions, rising like a tidal wave from my gut. “No.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She placed her hand on the base of her throat, her green eyes suspiciously glossy. “I won’t judge you or think differently of you. No matter what happened or what you did to survive, you’ll always be my best friend. I promise.”

“I know you wouldn’t judge me, but I’m not ready to talk about it.” I waved away the waitress as she approached our table. I needed to ask Vera something before I lost my nerve. “Right now I need something else from you.”

“What’s that?”

I cast a glance around the restaurant, making sure I didn’t know any of the other patrons. I selected a little-known restaurant, but my family and Evan’s family had a large circle of acquaintances. I needed to be careful. I didn’t want any of this to get back to Evan before I had a chance to talk to him. “Can I move into your apartment?”

“Of course,” she responded without hesitation. “You’re always welcome to stay with me. You’re my best friend.”

Smiling, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s only temporary until I find an alternative, but I need to get out of Evan’s apartment, and I can’t go home. My mom is determined to see me marry Evan. She won’t stop.”

She scooted to the edge of her chair. “Are you going to break off your engagement?”

“Yes. I can’t marry him. I think I’m in love with someone else.” I cringed inwardly, and I lowered my gaze, afraid to see her reaction. In all honesty, I didn’t know what I felt for Ryker. Part of me suspected I could love Ryker. He made my blood sing and my body hum. The other part of me believed our connection revolved around sex, and not even sex wrapped in a nice, neat bow with the fa?ade of romance and sweet murmurings.

“Hold on.” She waved her hand, and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she scrunched her face in surprise. “I think I missed something. Who do you think you’re in love with?”

“This is the part I don’t want to talk about.” My eyes flickered to the side, avoiding eye contact as my insides flamed with shame and more than a little uncertainty. I took a bite of the crusty bread, but it stuck in my throat. “I can’t talk about it. Not yet.” I looked at her, silently pleading with her to understand. “Okay?”

Her lips puckered like she sucked a lemon. “I don’t like this, Hattie. I don’t like this at all.”

My throat convulsed as I swallowed. “You don’t have to like it. I don’t like it either, but I need your support.”

“What kind of support?”

“A two-week date with your air mattress, maybe less. That’s it. I can’t live with Evan while I sort out what’s going on inside my head. He keeps pushing me for more, and I can’t give him anything right now or ever.”

She rubbed her temples, studying me without comment. Then, she reached across the table and gently squeezed my hand. It felt like the vice grip had loosened around my heart. I made another step in the right direction. I was taking control of my future…my life.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to end up miserable and married to Evan or his clone.”

“Neither do I.” Unfortunately, I didn’t know if choosing Ryker would make me happy either, but I knew Evan wouldn’t. “Somebody once warned me not to settle for mediocrity while I still had the ability to chase my dreams.”

Vera raised her eyebrows, her face lit up with interest. “Who told you that?”

I tapped my fingers on the table, debating what to tell her. I went with the truth. “Ignacio Vargas.”





Chapter Seven




Ryker



I threw my phone onto my kitchen counter. Not only did I have to deal with Rever’s non-stop grousing about finding a way to smuggle his pregnant girlfriend out of Mexico, but Hattie hadn’t called me in the seven days since her engagement party. I didn’t want to push too hard, but I would if necessary.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rever sauntered out of my guest bedroom, looking nothing like his usually polished self. When did he shower last? His dark hair hung in clumps, sticking to the side of his face. His stubble had officially turned into a beard a few days ago, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.

“Can’t you buy your own clothes?” Rever didn’t hesitate to make himself at home in my apartment. He wore my clothes. He ate my food. He drove my car. “What’s next? Are you going to borrow my toothbrush?” I barked, motioning to my jeans and worn black t-shirt.

“Fuck you. I don’t like doing laundry and I don’t have any money. Ignacio canceled my credit cards and closed my bank accounts.”

“How did he do that? Don’t you have passwords?”

Rever snorted. “You can do anything in Mexico when you have money.”

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