“Because I didn’t have a choice.” He pulled a white cloth out of his back pocket and tossed it in my direction. “Have a good night, Miss Covington.”
“Are you going to do something with his…?” My voice faded to silence, and I angled my head toward Raul’s body.
“No. I thought you’d enjoy some company.” He laughed. “I’ll think of a way for you to show your gratitude later.” Enrique turned and strutted out of the room, slamming and locking the door. I could hear him humming as he walked down the hall to whatever hell he came from.
I slid down the wall and covered my face. Guilt consumed me inch by inch, creating a crater-sized hole in my stomach. I couldn’t look at Raul’s lifeless eyes. I felt like I had an anchor attached to my ankle pulling into pool of quicksand. I was drowning.
Drowning in guilt.
Drowning in self-pity.
Drowning in pain.
Drowning in heartache.
I didn’t even know if I wanted to be saved.
Chapter Four
Ryker
“You think she’s here?” I pointed at the pictures covering Ignacio’s desk.
“I’m eighty percent certain that’s where she’s being held,” Emanuel responded, lacing his fingers together on top of Ignacio’s desk.
I snagged one of the pictures off the desk and studied the dilapidated, two-story, white stucco building. Black crisscrossed bars covered all of the windows. Twisting green vines crawled up the columns bracketing the faded wood front door. Glass blocks spaced every couple of feet circled the bottom of the first story of the home in a linear pattern, indicating the home had a cellar or a basement.
Seventy-two hours had passed since the Alvarez Cartel abducted Hattie. The deadline for returning Anna Alvarez had officially expired. Juan had threatened to dismember her part by part after the deadline, starting with her fingernails and moving on from there. Rage simmered in my gut at the thought. If he or any of his minions hurt her, I’d kill every last one of them and tear them to pieces with my bare hands.
“I need to know for sure. If we show up at this place and she’s not there, they’ll find out and kill her.”
Emanuel licked his lower lip and looked away. “You’re right, but this is all the information I’ve got right now, and I don’t think I’ll receive new intel any time soon.”
I crumbled the picture and tossed it on the desk. “What happened to your informant? You said he’d know her exact location by now.”
He rolled his shoulders. “I haven’t heard from him in over a day.”
“Is that normal?”
“No,” he answered without elaborating. “But it’s not entirely unexpected either.”
I massaged the back of my neck. “Should we be worried?” Every hellish second that elapsed without seeing Hattie made the anxiety festering inside of me corkscrew tighter and tighter around my chest until I could barely take another breath.
“It’s not a good sign.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s probably dead.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Do you think Juan Alvarez knows he was working for us?”
He lifted and dropped one shoulder. “He knows we have informants inside his organization just like we know he has them inside the Vargas Cartel. It’s irrelevant.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“In drug cartels, there is no such thing as loyalty. Money and power are the only things that matter. People are loyal to whoever pays them the most. Juan understands that. He expects it. We all do. Even Ignacio.”
I leaned over, bracing my hands on the desk. “And what about you? Are you loyal? Or are you following wherever the money leads you?”
Emanuel brushed invisible lint from his shirt. “What are you trying to say? I’ve worked for your father since you were in diapers. I have done everything he’s asked of me and more.”
“What makes you different from the rest? Can Ignacio trust you? Can I trust you?”
His eyes hardened, then he waved his hand dismissively. “I’m different.”
“How?” I snapped.
“Because I don’t want anything else. I don’t have a wife or kids, and I don’t want them. I have more money than I’ll spend in this lifetime. Ignacio values my opinion, and I don’t have a target on my back like he does. I don’t envy him, and I sure as hell don’t want to be him or take his job.”
“So if Ignacio died tomorrow, you wouldn’t break out the champagne and designate yourself as the newest drug lord?”
He licked his lips. “No. I’d welcome Rever or you with open arms. Hopefully you, because we both know Rever wouldn’t last a month. Everyone knows his weaknesses. Women. Gambling. Drugs.” He waved his hand. “You, on the other hand, are a wildcard. Nobody would know what to expect, but anything is better than Rever. He’s a disaster.”
I studied him, searching for any signs of duplicity, but his face didn’t reveal anything. My shoulders slumped. Either he was being honest or he had a first-rate poker face. “Fair enough.”
Staring out the window, I turned my back to him. Shadows from the trees danced on the creamy marble floors. Terraced gardens filled with colorful flowers dotted the wall of green foliage. Was Hattie looking outside through a barred window in that white stucco prison waiting for me to come and find her? Had she given up on me or was she in too much pain to care? Did she hate me? Did she regret letting me back in her life?
I shook my head. I couldn’t dwell on any of it. I had to rescue her and get her the hell away from Mexico and this shitty life. Everything happened for a reason. Maybe her kidnapping was the universe’s way of telling me that Hattie and I weren’t meant to be together. That we’d never be together. That we could never be a family. With or without the Vargas Cartel, I was a liability. One that Hattie and our baby didn’t need or deserve.
“Okay,” I said, whirling around to face Emanuel. “Let’s plan this mission. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t know how long Hattie will last.”
Emanuel nodded. “She could already be dead. You do realize that, right?”
My heart stuttered, and the pungent ache of guilt mixed with regret knotted my insides. “She’s not,” I said with more certainty than I felt at the moment. Images of Hattie’s bruised and battered body drifted to the forefront of my mind.
I lifted the decanter from the desk and poured a glass of whatever Ignacio had. I didn’t give a shit. I needed alcohol to settle my nerves and take the edge off the anxiety flapping in my gut like a bunch of rabid bats.
I tossed back the entire glass of tequila in one swallow, forcing thoughts of Hattie from my mind. The liquid burned my throat, and my eyes watered.
“Tell me what you’ve planned so far,” I said, slamming the glass on top of the desk.
Emanuel tipped up his chin, his eyes tight. “Pour me one of those, too.”
My hands shook, and my pulse hammered against the base of my throat as I poured another glass of tequila. The liquid splashed over the rim onto a stack of papers. Dammit. I needed to get my emotions under control. Worrying about the future and things out of my control wouldn’t save Hattie.
“Here,” I slid the low-ball glass engraved with a V across the smooth desktop.
He nodded his thanks. “There’s only one access point into this safe house. It’s a one lane dirt road.” Emanuel traced a faint brown line through the jungle on a satellite image of the house where he suspected Hattie was being held.
“I see that.”
“According to our source, they have guards stationed at the base of the road and in front of the house, but no one along the sides or the back.”
Squinting, I leaned forward. “So that’s the weak spot. We’ll attack from the rear.”
“Or by the air.”
My eyebrows crawled up my forehead. “No. Absolutely not. We’d announce our arrival. They’d kill Hattie by the time we landed. We need to hike through the jungle and approach from the rear.” I tapped my finger on the aerial picture. “How far is this road from the safe house?”