Their Cartel Princess: The Complete Series: A Dark Reverse Harem Box Set Page 56

  “Milo, the towers!” Lars shouted.

  “Think that gate’s going to give if we ram it?”

  Lars gave a mirthless laugh. “I’m more worried about the fucking snipers!”

  “They won’t shoot.”

  “Yeah? You have a fucking vision or something?”

  “Shoot me, and the car could roll.”

  “Injuring Princess Cora,” Lars muttered. “I hear you.”

  “Seatbelt,” Finn said as he clipped his in.

  “Jesus fuck,” Lars said. “I’m too young to die.”

  Angel shivered once, dragged himself straight on the seat, and wrapped his arms around her. She should have struggled. For heaven’s sake, the man had tried to shoot her. Had been about to drag her back to his jefe, El Lobo.

  “It’s opening! They’re letting us out!” came Lars’s voice. He slapped the dashboard and let out a whoop. “Yeah, Princess Cora!”

  “Shut up,” Finn muttered. “Anyone behind us?”

  “Not unless they’re in the shape of dust devils.”

  “There’s only one way out of this place. Gonna be piss easy for them to follow us.”

  “Yeah, but they have to catch us first. Drive, Milo. Fucking drive!”

  When she opened her eyes, Angel was staring at her with a strange light in his eyes. Confusion, wonderment, awe. He cupped the back of her head, seeming oblivious to the truck bouncing and careening over the uneven ground.

  “You saved my life,” Angel murmured in Spanish. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  She swallowed. Tears pricked her eyes, but they were tears of relief. Perhaps aftershock. Angel wiped them away with a thumb, and gave his head a small shake.

  “I am not a good person, Eleodora,” Angel whispered. “You should have left me. I deserve nothing more.”

  “Maybe not,” she replied, keeping her voice low so Finn and Lars wouldn’t hear. “But I need you. I don’t know why, but Santa Muerte gave you to me for a reason.”

  Surprise flickered over Angel’s face, tugging his beatific mouth into a confused smile. And then realization broke over him like a wave, and those arms gripped her hard, fierce. “Because I’ve seen the face of our enemy. I know where he lives,” he said. His voice sounded hollow, but resigned. Then he sighed, and pressed tighter against her. “And I can take you to him, señorita.”

  “Call me La Sombra,” she said, but so quietly, she doubted he’d heard. She had no idea why she’d said that, but once it was out it sounded right.

  From behind, came a short burst of gunfire. Then more. Angel stretched around her, hugging her against his chest. Protecting her.

  It had to be the drugs left in her system. Because… instead of feeling trapped, she felt safe.

  54

  Two and a half

  “Hey, get your fucking hands off her!”

  Cora snapped awake with a furiously beating heart, blinking in confusion as Angel’s warm body was snatched away from her. The angle of the day’s light had shifted since she’d last been conscious; it looked to be late afternoon judging from the dusty rays sliding through the SUV’s windshield.

  Angel briefly struggled against the fist Lars held him with, and then pushed himself into the corner.

  She pushed herself up, gently pressing against Lars’s hand until he released Angel and settled back in his seat. Lars gave her a disgusted look, shook his head, and faced forward.

  She could understand why Lars was pissed off with her. She’d been snuggling on the back seat with the same man who’d almost blown out her brains. But that wasn’t all. This went beyond simple anger or irritation. She could remember his face, when Angel cocked that gun.

  Fear.

  Not for himself. Not for the situation, or the mess afterward.

  He’d been terrified she would die.

  “Lars,” she said, and put her hand on his shoulder. “When we—”

  He shrugged away from her, sat forward in a rush and peered out the windshield. “You drive like my fucking grandmother,” he said to Finn. “We’ll never make it anywhere at this rate.”

  The men must have stopped to change the tire, because the car seemed to be running smoothly now.

  Finn threw him a glance like he knew Lars’s irritation wasn’t his doing, and then pushed down on the accelerator.

  “You’re getting us out of the speeding ticket,” he said, as the SUV began eating up the miles of tar stretching ahead of them.

  Cora sat back in her seat. Angel glanced across at her when she settled. She reached out, lay her fingers over the fist in his lap, and tried to will calm into him. His other hand, the bandaged one, he held to the side; stiff and open-fingered as if it hurt to close it.

  As if that touch had opened a locked door in her mind, memories streamed back. She blinked hard, mind churning.

  Angel had been taking her to El Lobo when Lars and Finn had caught up with them. But he didn’t like El Lobo. He may even hate the man. Had he been forced into doing it? Blackmail? What could Zachary West possibly have on Angel that would make him go to such lengths to bring her back?

  As if he knew what she was thinking, Angel drew his hand away from hers.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “We’ll work this out.”

  But instead of the smile she’d been expecting, he gave her a look of deadpan introspection, and murmured, “You should have left me to die, La Sombra.”

  “He’s right,” Finn said.

  She met Finn’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and he looked away as soon as their gazes met. Her stomach turned cold, and she gave Angel a brief, guilty look.

  Would they believe her if she told them it had been the drugs? Nothing had made sense back there, by Javier’s villa. But some strange intuition had told her she needed Angel by her side. For now, at least.

  Because he knows where El Lobo is.

  The thought was a chilling one. So what if he knew? What was she supposed to do with that information? Storm the capo of Plata o Plomo’s headquarters and try to take him out? She would have laughed at the thought, if she didn’t feel so disheartened.

  On the run. Again.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  There was silence as Finn and Lars exchanged a glance.

  “Somewhere safe,” Lars said, just as Finn replied, “To get your father.”

  The two men scowled at each other.

  “My…my father?” Cora sat forward in a rush. “Where is he? How did you—?”

  “I thought we discussed this,” Lars said through his teeth.

  Finn slammed on the brakes. Lars caught himself against the dashboard, spots of red on his cheeks.

  “Guys…” Cora murmured, reaching a hand to each.

  “If you don’t want part of this, then get the fuck out and—” Finn began.

  “There’s two of us, Milo.” Lars held up a hand and extended two fingers. “Dos. How many men do you think this guy’s going to have at the drop, hmm? Unless he only brings one fucking soldier, we’re outnumbered.”

  “Four,” Cora said, her voice dripping ice. “We’re four.”

  Lars threw her a condescending glance. “That’s cute. But no. We’re two.”

  Cora twisted her mouth, and reached for the small of her back. But her Taurus wasn’t there anymore. She dropped her gaze, checking the cabin of the SUV.

  “See? Dos.” Lars turned back to Finn. “You do the math.”

  “Three,” came Angel’s voice.

  Cora looked up at him. He held one hand cradled to his stomach, but his eyes burned with a fierce light. “I can help.”

  Lars sighed. “Two and a half, and you know how overly optimistic I can be sometimes, Milo.”

  “Where is my father?” Cora asked, trying to enunciate every word as carefully as she could.

  “Don’t do that,” Finn said. “You sound like Javier.”

  “At least he gets answers. Why the hell won’t you tell me—”

  “Zachary
West has him. He offered a trade for your father and the files.” Finn caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “The ones I assume that are on that necklace of yours?”

  Necklace. Cora touched fingers to her breastbone, but nothing hung from her neck anymore. Of course—she’d taken it off on the ride. She dug in her pocket and drew out the chain, letting Santa Muerte sway from side to side. Light caught the pendant in a strange way, making it look as if there was a secret glint in those empty eye sockets.

  “So you did have it,” Finn said.

  “That thing?” Lars pulled a face. “That’s what everyone’s after?”

  “Everyone?” Cora said. “Who?”

  “Javier. Zachary. Probably other capos we don’t even know about.” Finn caught her eye in the mirror again. “You know what’s on there, don’t you?”

  She shook her head, catching the pendant and laying it on her palm. “Something important. That’s all Papá said.”

  “Papá was being a right dick,” Lars muttered. “Papá could have done a hundred more intelligent things with that info than giving it to you.”

  “Lars,” Finn grumbled.

  “What? Come on.”

  “He said he couldn’t take it over the border,” Cora said, but whether in defense or not, she didn’t know.

  “We’re dropping you off, and then we’ll go to the hangar to make the exchange.” Finn glanced across at Lars. “Are we in agreement?”

  Lars shrugged. “Guess there’s no reason for everyone to die. We had a good run.”

  She caught Finn rolling his eyes.

  The pendant had warmed in her hand. She opened her fingers and stroked the side of Santa Muerte’s skull. Had she really seen the saint down there in the dark, when her breath had been almost gone? Her life flickering like the last quarter inch of a candle’s wick?

  These men were willing to risk their lives—Lars grudgingly—for her father.

  For her.

  The least she could do was provide a distraction.

  “No,” she said, sitting forward.

  “No what?” Finn asked, but his attention was on the road, not on her.

  “You’re not dropping us off. You’re not doing this alone.” She held the pendant tight in her hand. “All he wants is this information. He won’t hurt me. And he knows Angel. Angel…” she glanced across at the young man. He studied her with big, black eyes and a straight-lined mouth. “Angel’s going to take me to him. Just us. Like he kidnapped me.”

  Finn barked a laugh the same time Lars pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a massive sigh. “That’s the worst idea I ever—” Lars began.

  “You said we’d be outnumbered,” Cora said. “Let Angel have a gun. He takes me in, says he brought me by himself. I give Zachary the necklace, and I take Papá and leave.” She slipped the pendant over her neck and dusted her hands. “Easy as that.”

  “God, you’re so fucking naive, it makes my balls ache,” Lars muttered. “Why would he let any of you live once he has the files?”

  “We’re not a threat,” Cora said. “Papá—”

  “He’ll definitely kill your father,” Finn said, and then added, “You have to understand that’s what’s going to happen, Cora. Why would he let the capo of a rival cartel—”

  “Because my father isn’t part of the cartel anymore.” Cora straightened her spine, giving Finn and Lars as insistent a stare as she could.

  “You just tap your heels and wrinkle your nose, and he’s not capo anymore?” Lars asked dryly. He turned in his seat, resting his chin on the back of his hand. “You a magical bunny?”

  His sarcasm made her want to slap him again. But she quickly closed her twitching hand into a fist and tried to stare him down.

  It would have helped if his eyes weren’t so damn intense.

  She swallowed hard, squeezing the pendant.

  Lars cocked an eyebrow at her, and Finn’s gaze flashed to the mirror.

  “My father isn’t capo anymore,” Cora said. “I am.”

  55

  Utterly fucked off

  It was quarter past five in the afternoon when they stopped at a small strip mall that looked as isolated as the few cars parked in the lot. Lars went inside the shop while Finn leaned forward in his seat, hands draped on the steering wheel, and began scouting for a new vehicle for them.

  The inside of the car reeked of dust and sweat, despite everyone opening their windows. If there’d been time, he’d have found a motel or something where they could all take a shower and at least get something to eat.

  But there wasn’t.

  “Finn.”

  He glanced back at Cora, then straightened again. It was easier to stay calm when he couldn’t see her bright eyes watching him so intently. “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Finn asked. “Pissing off Javier?”

  Cora sat forward, just like she’d done that first night they’d met. When she’d been trying to engage him in some inane conversation. Curious about the scar on his neck.

  That felt like a fucking lifetime ago.

  “For agreeing to let me do this,” she murmured, soft and intently enough that the hackles on the back of his neck rose in a flurry.

  He shifted in his seat, but didn’t look at her. He was supposed to be looking for a car they could steal. One that wouldn’t be too difficult to hot wire, and that wouldn’t draw attention.

  Why the fuck was Lars taking so long?

  “Fuck knows why you have this suicidal urge in you, all of a sudden,” he said. “Who am I to stand in the way of idiocy?”

  “We’re going to make it through this.”

  And then he did look at her, because her voice had changed timbre. Her eyes weren’t flickering and uneasy any more. Come to think of it, they hadn’t been that way for a while.

  Since last night.

  Jesus Christ, why’d he have to go and think of that? He shifted again, itching to be out of the car and away from her voice. “You stick to the plan,” he snapped. “You give him the docs, you grab your father, you get the fuck out of there.”

  Cora grabbed him by the shoulder of his shirt, tugged him a little to the side. “Stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”

  Her ears brushed his lobe when she spoke. He didn’t like that one fucking bit. Especially when his body began reacting to her like she was a drug and he was just some stoned junkie. He closed his eyes, hoping that would help. It didn’t. It just made it easier for his sick mind to superimpose an image of Cora, naked, on the back of his eyelids. Flickering, like one of those old projectors. She stood in front of him, legs splayed. The shape behind her stroking her until she moaned. Lars, a dutiful entertainer as always, putting Cora though the hoops for his one-man audience.

  “Okay?” Cora whispered.

  Reality bloomed when he forced his eyes open again. He turned his head, leaning back so he could focus on her face.

  He grabbed the back of her head, crushed her mouth against his, and kissed her until they were both breathless. When he pulled back, reluctantly, she still had a fist twisted in his shirt and a dazed look on her face.

  Then that fog cleared, and her gaze sharpened. “What was that?” she demanded.

  He swiped his thumb over her lips. “That was me kissing you whenever the fuck I want.”

  Lars slammed the car door, making everyone inside the car jump. Cora hurriedly sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and making a point of looking away from him.

  She could pout all she wanted, he was still pissed at her.

  He rummaged in the bag he’d brought back from the convenience store, and handed out bottles of water and snack bars to everyone, tossing Cora’s and Angel’s into the backseat like he was at a zoo and they were in the primate cage.

  Cora glared at him when the snack bar hit her shoulder, and didn’t make a move to pick it up from her lap.

  “Fine,” he said. “Starve. See if I care.”

  She thumped the b
ack of his seat with her bare foot. And then looked surprised when he dumped a pair of sneakers in her lap. Despite having taken the longest time going through the aisles trying to judge the right size for her feet, he now hoped they’d be too big. Clown big, even. So he could have a reason to laugh when she slapped around in them.

  Then he tossed another pair at Angel, who picked them up from the footwell with a frown.

  “Gracias,” Angel murmured, and began untying the laces.

  “Hey, we wear socks in America,” Lars said, and tossed him a pair of socks. “Be civilized.” The guy caught them out of the air without looking up, and muttered another “Gracias.” This one didn’t sound as grateful.

  “Mine?” Cora asked.

  “They were all out of pink.” And then he faced forward, forcing the sight of her pretty pout from his head. There was a pair of scissors in the bag too, but he’d deal with that fact later.

  He tore open his candy bar and bit into it, scanning the lot. “You pick one yet?” he asked through a mouthful of chocolate and granola.

  Milo pointed to a Toyota parked closer to the end of the lot, under cover of a one of three trees in the parking area. A normal shopper would have chosen one of the many open spots in front of the building, but that tree would provide shade all day, making the car less of an oven for its owner to step into at the end of their shift. Even from where they sat, he could see the passenger side window was open a crack.

  “Good catch,” Lars muttered, and bit off another chunk of his candy bar. “Go. I’ll hoot if I see someone.”

  Milo climbed out the car and ambled across the parking lot. A casual observer wouldn’t have noticed, but he did a thorough sweep of the area as he feigned a sore muscle in his neck, and then slid into the tree’s shade. With his dark clothes, that almost made him invisible from anyone walking around the strip mall in the late afternoon sun.

  Lars drummed his fingers on the dashboard as he watched Milo rock the window until it came off its tracks and then open the door and slide inside. His silhouette moved around animatedly for a few seconds as he checked all the usual spots where people hid a spare set of keys; center console, change tray, the glove compartment. His silhouette held up a hand which, Lars assumed, held a spare key. Milo slid over into the driver’s seat, and a second later the car’s engine turned.