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



“How much longer?” I asked, drumming my hands against the leather steering wheel.

“Any minute,” Rever answered without glancing at me.

“Dammit, Rever. Text her. The mass is going to end in less than twenty minutes, and then we’ll be fucked. I’m not getting into a gunfight on the church steps. I’m not religious, but I have limits.”

He rolled down the window of the car and a wave of humid heat collided with the air-conditioned interior. “I did text her.”

“Text her again.”

“She knows we’re here. She’ll be here any second.”

“Unless she set us up and we’re about to get slaughtered.”

His head whipped around. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“Fine, but if she doesn’t walk out that door in the next ten minutes, I’m leaving. You can come with me, or you can stay. I don’t care.”

“She’ll come,” he murmured. “I’m not worried.”

Time ticked by, second-by-second. I stared at the dashboard, willing ten minutes to pass. Part of me wanted Anna to keep her ass firmly planted on that wooden pew and reject Rever forever. The other part of me prayed she’d hurry the fuck up so I could put the final punctuation mark on this chapter of my life and move forward with Hattie and our baby.

With two minutes to spare, a petite woman with long black hair and a white full-length dress ran down the front steps, a straw tote bag clutched in her hand. She had a flawless olive complexion except the J-shaped scar near her right temple.

Rever flung the car door open. “Anna.”

She waved her hands above her head. “Go back to the car. We can’t do this today. They know something is going on.”

“No,” Rever yelled as he stalked up the steps. “You’re coming with me today.”

Anna glanced over her shoulder. A man dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt pushed open the front door of the church. “Go. Go without me,” Anna yelled, moving slowly back up the steps.

Rever charged forward, grabbing her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. She pounded her fists on his back and kicked her legs. “Suéltame. Suéltame, abusón,” she screamed, pleading for him to let her go.

“No.”

“Dammit,” I muttered.

I knew this wouldn’t work. It was too simple. Too many things could go wrong. I snagged my gun off the center console and jumped out of the car. I held the gun in front of me and used the hood to shield my body. The man in the black t-shirt lifted a gun and aimed it at Rever’s head. I didn’t stop to think. I pulled the trigger.

The shot exploded through the air, drowning out the hum of the church hymn. His gun fell out of his hand, clattering down the steps and rolling to a stop in the street. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his bicep. His face drained of color as blood poured down his arm, splattering on the pristine ivory steps.

Screams drifted from inside the church walls. Rever set Anna on her feet. He stared at the scene, frozen in the moment, not moving, not breathing. Tears poured down her face as she stuffed her fist into her mouth and bent at her waist.

“Move.” I pounded my hand against the hood. “Get in the car. We have to leave now.”

Car tires squealed around the corner, and I dove in the front seat. Rever grabbed Anna’s wrist and yanked her down the steps. She slapped his chest and clawed at his hand as she tried to break free. “He’s my brother. I can’t leave him. He’s bleeding. Oh my God. This my fault. This was a dumb idea. I knew it.”

Rever shoved her in the backseat and jumped in beside her. He looped his arms around her waist and rocked her back and forth. “It’s going to be okay. It’s just a flesh wound. Nothing more,” he whispered next to her ear.

A car swerved around us, coming to an abrupt stop perpendicular to the front bumper of our car, stopping the flow of traffic. I cranked the wheel to the right and slammed on the gas pedal. Our car jumped the curb, and my head whipped to the side. Sparks flew as the metal car rims grinded against the church steps. The minute we passed the car blocking the street, I jerked the steering wheel to the right, and we were back on the asphalt again.

Pop.

Pop. Pop. Pop!

Gunshots shattered the back window. Little slivers of glass showered over Rever and Anna’s heads like rice at a wedding recessional.

“Drive faster,” Rever barked, sheltering Anna’s body with his.

I wove through the steady stream of cars, scooters, and golf carts clogging the main road circling the tiny island. “I’m going as fast as I can,” I said through clenched teeth. “Take this and aim for their tires. Don’t kill anyone,” I yelled, tossing my gun over my shoulder. “We need to get them off our tail if we want to get into that helicopter and off this island in one piece.”

Rever shoved Anna to the floorboard of the car and fired shot after shot out the back window until the road behind us cleared. I turned the corner and slammed on the brakes. Emilio’s helicopter was waiting at the designated meeting spot. The roar of the blades drowned out the sounds of the ocean crashing against the slick, black rocks.

“Hurry. They will be here any second,” I yelled as I flung open the door and ran to the helicopter, not waiting for Rever and Anna. He could take care of her. I’d done all I could for them.

As soon as we made it back to the Vargas compound, I was done with all of this shit, forever. I had supported my brother. I dropped everything to be at Ignacio’s bedside, and he shoved it back in my face. I’d walked the line between two worlds and two lives for too many years to count. I couldn’t do it anymore. I had a kid on the way, and if Ignacio or Rever wanted anything else from me, then tough shit. I’d given enough. Sacrificed enough.

My hands shook as I buckled my seatbelt. My eyes strained for any sign of Anna’s security detail. Rever ducked his head and jogged to the door with Anna in his arms.

The minute Rever closed the door behind him, the helicopter lifted from the ground, and I took my first real breath since walking out of the hotel room this morning.

Still sobbing, Anna buried her head in Rever’s lap. Rever stared out the window, his hand noticeably shaking as he stroked her hair.

“We did it,” Rever said, his voice raspy.

“We did, but the next part is going to be the hardest,” I replied, my eyes still trained on the shrinking island.

“What do you mean?”

“We have to wait for Juan Alvarez to retaliate.”

“Do you think he’ll do something?”

I snorted. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s Ignacio’s problem. Anna and I will be gone tomorrow and so will you and Hattie. Ignacio can deal with it. Violence and revenge are his specialty.”

“I hope you’re right.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven




Hattie

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