The ties that bind 3, p.36
The Ties That Bind 3, page 36
part #3 of The Ties That Bind Series
Lorelai rolled her eyes at his pat on the back. “Bet you’re glad that you took my call in the beginning, aren’t you? And the terms of our deal still stand, correct?”
“You’ve got a hell of a nerve reaching out to me, Fitzgerald. It’s time for you to face the music. You compromised an innocent woman’s safety and your own sting operation—”
“That was producing zero results. You’re right; I do have nerve and even more importantly, I’ve got a set of brass balls that are bigger than any male agent under you and will get you desired results. A fact that you refuse to acknowledge. Your first mistake was overlooking me for Glover. Your second will be if you try to trace this phone call.”
“Why the fuck should I listen to what you have to say? You stole money from the bar and your partner, and served a young woman up on a silver platter to a pair of cold-blooded killers!”
“Because I can deliver Barrera to you.”
Her words hung in the air and Lorelai smirked. She could practically hear Shore drooling. She’d plotted and schemed the night away in that roach motel, convinced the only way she could get to Barrera was to start from the bottom and sleep with him. It just wasn’t a guarantee that she’d be able to make herself inaccessible to him and hadn’t counted on Cosima.
“How?” Shore inquired with distant politeness.
Lorelai knew him well enough to see through his ruse. There was a sliver of excitement winding through the question that he couldn’t quite conceal.
“You know what? Never mind. It seems like I’m boring you and with your retirement fast approaching, you probably don’t want to make any waves. Sorry for wasting your—”
“How dammit?!”
“Don’t worry about how. I’ll let you know when and how to proceed when the time’s right. For now, you just keep Glover off my fucking back and let me work! I’ve always produced favorable conclusions and tried to exceed the agency’s expectations. I guess my best wasn’t good enough because I didn’t have a dick swinging between my legs. Do you deny it?”
His silence was a tell that earned him a scathing laugh from Lorelai.
“Exactly! Now that I’ve set my terms, ask me what it’s going to cost you.”
“Why don’t you simply tell me since you seem to be the one in charge,” he snapped.
“A fact that you’d be wise to remember, Shore. You’re going to give my source whatever they want, in addition to protection. Don’t worry; they’re fairly reasonable and won’t ask for the moon. Next, you’re going to clear the way for my return and take the heat for the fallout. A plausible top-secret, undercover bullshit explanation will suffice. That will make it easier for you to sell it to your boss when you announce that you’re passing the torch to me.”
“That’s not a possibility. I don’t have enough influence—”
“Blah! Blah Blah! Spare me the lies, Jared! You’re a white man. Your possibilities were endless at birth! I want the director position. Make it happen. Otherwise, news outlets around the world will be reporting how you had the evidence but dropped the ball on capturing Gualtierro Barerra and possibly ending kingpin Salazar Peña’s regime.”
“You have my word that you’ll be exonerated and promoted to my position,” Shore assured her. “We’ll talk soon.”
Lorelai hung up and lifted her eyes upward in gratitude. Finally her hard work had paid off. “Thank you, Lord!”
“I take it things went well?” Nick ventured.
She swung around with a grin. “It’s happening!”
He jumped off the bed with excitement, uncaring of his nudity. “When??”
“Three days. I want you to get word to your mother. See if she can arrange to be away from the villa by day two. A shopping spree stateside?”
Nick’s face hardened with determination. “I’ll make it happen. She enjoys San Diego.”
Lorelai squeezed his arm, and they shared a happy smile. “This is the end of him. You or anyone else will never have to fear his wrath or retaliation ever again. Now, would you please put that damn towel back on!” she exclaimed.
“No! I don’t think I can do this!” Andy exclaimed.
“That is not what I expected to hear from a man who has cost me a great deal of money, Señor Granger. I spared your life for a reason and now I’m collecting.”
“But I don’t have any type of experience with this kind of thing!” he protested. “Who’s supposed to pay for the damages?”
“You own a large vehicle and handle it adeptly, even when inebriated, according to my private investigators. That is all that I require. I will reimburse you for any damages. If you do this, your debt with me is no more. If you do not, then you will be taking your chances with Benito.”
The bodyguard stared with spiteful eyes and a ghostly smile on his lips at Andy, who swallow hard.
“This ain’t a damn trick, Barerra?” he implored. “Our business together will be done?”
“I despise being questioned and find having to repeat myself an insult to my intelligence. However, I’ll make an exception in your case to put your mind at ease. You will not have to worry about me after this. Remember, once you breach, we will be right behind you. Immediately take cover and stay low. Understood?”
His fear subsided, Andy relaxed and climbed into the mid-size truck and started it. “You can count on me, sir.”
Barrera smiled. “I know. That is why I chose you for this job.”
Andy waved goodbye. He was determined to complete this mission to the best of his abilities. Once he was done, Andy planned to get out of town for good. There was nothing like having your ear carved off to make you see the light and error of associating with bad men.
“Are the men in place, Benito?”
He shifted into position. “Sí, jefe. We are merely awaiting your signal.”
They watched as the truck hurtled full speed toward the Immortals compound. The guard at the tower raised a radio to his lips. Immediately his head exploded. An impeccable shot from one of the many camouflaged snipers surrounding the structure Barerra had hired a band of mercenaries for this special occasion. Thirty seconds later, Andy penetrated the compound, and the truck came to a screeching halt in the center of the common area. People came running from everywhere. MC members with their guns drawn, swinging them every which way, searched for the culprit or culprits.
Gualtierro clapped enthusiastically. “Bravo, Señor Granger! As promised, our business is officially over. Now, Benito.”
The bodyguard fired the bazooka at the truck that was insulated in marine-grade steel and filled with propane tanks. The explosion illuminated the night, and flames raced haphazardly. Four more missiles followed, two on each side of the compound, and the raging flames merged into an inferno. Screams of fear and terror blended with the crackling roars. Gualtierro was hypnotized by the malevolently dancing flames of destruction as the snipers moved in, picking off anyone who tried to escape the condemned fate their president had chosen for them. Only when the last cry was swallowed up by the overwhelming billows of smoke from the blazing aftermath, did the two men finally leave and head for town.
The blast shook Slade out of his drunken stupor at Club Flex.
Patrons and employees alike scampered outside to see what happened. It took him a minute to struggle to his feet. Slade had gotten shit-faced drunk earlier and thought it best to sleep it off. It was his new normal to bury the unquenchable, twisting fury that prevented him from thinking or seeing straight. Everyone knew better to bother him once he slid into the booth.
“Slade! Come quick! The shop’s on fire!”
Holly’s terrified scream sobered him. Ignoring the crippling pain in his leg, he flew out the door. Only when he hit the corner did his feet refuse to move further. Chaos reigned around him and Slade could only watch as a piece of his club and family’s legacy was destroyed. The shop that his grandfather had founded was now a fiery wreckage. Slade was racking his mind as to what could have happened. He’d double-checked everything and thanks to his more often than not inebriated state, Blaze had instructed Marnie to tag along and fucking babysit him.
“Nooo! Someone call 911!”
He raced toward the fire, ignoring the protests from spectators. The wall of heat practically singed his eyelashes and eyebrows off and prevented him from venturing further. Slade grabbed at his hair and spun in circles wildly, unable to believe that this was happening. The roof collapsed with a sizzle and, feeling helpless, Slade faced off with the hissing flames as they leaped higher and burned brighter. Uncaring of the thick smoke searing the air and tears in his eyes, he roared defiantly at the fire.
“Fuck youuu, motherfucker! Fuck youuu!”
Another explosion rocked him to the ground. What the hell? Slade staggered upright in bemusement to see and hear people running in the opposite direction from which he’d come.
“It’s Club Flex!”
“Slade, the strip club’s on fire!”
No. Not his goldmine!
Both of his businesses were hit but no other buildings in town were affected? Slade wondered, glancing around. He reached for his phone and realized that he’d left it in the booth. Where were his men?
“What the fuck is happening here?” he shouted, sprinting back toward Flex. It was like a ghost town as everyone headed to go see the latest blast.
Distracted by the chaos, he missed the black town car that crept down Main St. until it was too late. Slade turned his head to look just as the vehicle swiped him, knocking him to the ground. A brawny man who looked vaguely familiar hopped out. He kicked him brutally in the forehead, and everything went black.
Slade awoke for the second time that night, the acrid stench of smoke invading his nostrils. His head felt like an anvil had been dropped on it. His eyes were burning from the sweat he was dripping, and the heat inflaming his body. A sinking feeling in the pit of Slade’s gut combined with his instinct screamed something was wrong and whipped his adrenaline into a frenzied state. He racked his brain for clues but came up emptyhanded. Slade tried to move and initially thought panic had him locked in a paralyzed state. Then he realized that he’d been hogtied with three sets of handcuffs in the bed of the truck.
Fear squeezed his heart, piercing his fog of shocked anger. Slade glanced up at the vast glowing sky and ash floating around him. Focusing, he listened to the crackling sounds. They were the only sounds. The hysterical screams were no more, and Slade understood that he was no longer in town. There was another scent in the air and his mind was working overtime trying to detect it.
If he wasn’t in town, then where the fuck had he been taken?
“You’re awake.”
He tried to roll around and see who’d addressed him. Slade’s blue eyes widened, then went black with hatred identifying the man who loomed over the side of the truck. Barerra. He snarled ferally at the motherfucker he knew to be responsible behind tonight’s fiery pandemonium.
“Did you think you would get away with it? That such impertinence would be tolerated?”
Slade struggled, his face red with his efforts as he thrashed and growled, dying for a fair fight.
“You saw your son’s injuries. What did you think I would do to a thief?” the capitán demanded ruthlessly.
At that, Slade paused and tilted his head, confusion in his eyes as he stared into the frigid depths of Barerra’s orbs. Emphatically he shook his head in denial. His eyes turned pleading. There’d clearly been a grievous error made somewhere and he was willing to beg for a chance to clear the mix-up. Slade was prepared to bargain his soul until Barerra smiled. It was slight but spooky and fucked up enough to stop his heart. The motherfucker was completely batshit crazy and couldn’t be reasoned with, he now understood.
“I wanted to explain to you that your son and his friends were grown men and we weren’t working in your territory.” Barerra gave an elegant shrug. “Then I thought better of it. Of course, you knew that. This was a power play for you. A man of your strength and authority would only respect and understand a response on such a level or higher.”
He gestured and someone gave Slade a forceful heave out of the truck bed. He hit the road with a whoosh and a rattle of chains, the wind knocked out of him. Wheezing through his nostrils, the Immortals President, who considered himself a sovereign, got his first look at his massacred kingdom and the bodies lying in the dirt outside of it. Flesh burning with metal. That was the other scent Slade couldn’t identify. Adults and children alike. Realizing the totality with which he’d failed them, from his immediate family to his MC family, tears flowed heavily down Slade’s face. He sank into a chasm of despair, agony and regret seizing him in heaving tremors while his mind went numb with grief.
Blaze. His childhood best friend. His VP who’d stepped up while Slade mentally checked out. Had he died on impact? Or had he proven himself a leader once more and—
A malicious chuckle interrupted his train of thought.
Barerra was enjoying the spoils of his victory and the torment in his opponent’s bulging eyes. He’d succeeded in breaking him, and was enjoying listening to the bastard’s muffled sniveling without remorse.
“Jefe, we must go now,” Benito reminded him, hearing sirens in the distance.
Briskly Gualtierro announced, “I wish we had more time together, Lawson. Unfortunately, I must be on my way. Would you be so kind as to graciously see me off? Our meeting has officially come to an end.”
Numbly, Slade watched the bastard get into the passenger side of the car in front of him. Barerra was going to run him over. So be it. Slade was ready to meet his maker. He glared into the brilliant headlights and braced himself. Only when the truck behind him started and he was dragged along with it, did a resigned Slade realize Barrera had one more trick up his sleeve.
“I’ll say this for you, girl; you know some interesting people. Oh, and have I told you lately how attractive I think your daddy is??”
Billy paused, mid-stir, on her homemade chili to stare at her soon-to-be-ex friend. “Money, if you don’t tap out on the crazy, I will kick your ass to the curb!”
Dominique shrugged and returned to filling the chip and dip platter. “My bad, but who’s really at fault here?” She pointed her finger at Billy with an affirmative nod. “Exactly! You and your daddy for springing your genes on us mere mortals! Glad we came to the same conclusion.”
“Shit, you’re like a squirrel in traffic when it comes to the opposite sex!” Billy laughed. “Get it together, girl.”
Ransom and Billy were hosting game night with Dominque, Kent, Marcus, Claudia, and Shakes. Alexis Carrington was in testosterone heaven, leaping from lap to lap. Presently, she was in Ransom’s lap, and he was sneaking her…was that a donut?
“There will be no Frito pie for you if you don’t cease and desist immediately, Ransom Lawson!”
He gave her a guilty look then shoved his hand and Alexis underneath the coffee table, away from her reproachful eyes. “Nothing to see here, wildthing. Keep it moving.”
Kent laughed at Ransom. “She’s cracking that whip tonight.”
“Says the guy whose shoes she threatened to throw away if he didn’t remove them at the door,” he countered, shutting the basketball player up.
“They’re brand-new Jordans!”
“The both of you are pussywhupped if you ask me,” Shakes volunteered, making Marcus and Claudia laugh. “See, I don’t have to take any of that. I tell my woman like it is! I say jump, and she says—Hey! Who are you calling, Ransom?”
“Ma, what’s Tawny’s number?”
“Don’t tell him, Tia! Put that phone away!” he protested.
Shakes scrambled over Alexis to yank the cordless from Ransom who tossed it to Kent and a game of ‘keep-away’ ensued. Claudia shook her head at them and rose from the loveseat where she was sitting with Marcus.
“I’m grabbing a drink. Want anything?”
“Some water, please.” He caught her hand when she would have walked away. “You still haven’t told me where we’re staying tonight.”
Claudia scowled at him. “That’s because you popped your stalker-ass up here to try and micro-manage me at the police station tomorrow. Get your own room, fathead.”
Marcus gave her puppy eyes. “That’s cold, woman! Did you at least get the flowers I sent to you?”
His reminder had the opposite effect, and she smacked his hand away. “Are you referring to that unsigned gorgeous bouquet that arrived at my job and had everyone interrogating me? The one that I suspect you sent to deflect my anger at your high-handed tactics?”
Marcus grinned at her discernment. “I’m not mad that you think you know me so well. I’m kidding!” he added when she pinched him. “The other night you mentioned how much you loved flowers, so I sent you some. That’s it. There was no ulterior motive other than wanting to put a smile on your face, mamacita.”
Since returning from Santa Barbara, they talked on the phone nightly. Whoever arrived home from work first called the other. They stayed on the phone until the wee hours of the morning. Marcus and Claudia knew more about each other than they thought possible after the nights spent holed up in Albuquerque and Taos.
His explanation did earn him a smile from Claudia. “You do that without having to lift a finger, Rage. That still doesn’t mean you’re coming with me. I’m a grown woman trying to clean up a family mess. I got this.”
Marcus offered an infectious grin and sank his teeth into his bottom lip in a way that made her heartbeat stutter. “Believe me, woman; I’m aware of how grown you are, but I’m not backing down on this. I told you that you were mine, so that makes me yours, which equates to you’re stuck with me. We handle stuff like this together. It’s not some caveman angle I’m trying to work either. I just want to offer moral support to someone who’s important to me,” he insisted quietly.
