The Perfect Stranger (LOS SANTOS Cartel Story #2) Page 17

  “Very inquisitive, aren’t you, cariña.” My voice was a slow rumble.

  “It’s my job to be,” she replied, shakily.

  “You’re already a scared little lamb surrounded by wolves. You don’t want to become an even tastier target.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  “But I’m exactly like them.”

  “How can you be like them if you’re helping me?”

  “The curious lamb. Sweetheart, some questions are better left unanswered.”

  “Am I safe with you?”

  I considered that question for a moment. “You’ve asked me that before.”

  “Am I?”

  I grazed my fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into my touch.

  “You’re becoming vulnerable, cariña.”

  “You make me this way.”

  I leaned forward, lips grazing hers, teasing.

  “I told you not to.”

  “Then stop—”

  I cut her off, crushing my lips to hers. She moaned into my mouth, knees weakening. My body pressed against Nina’s, feeling her curves and preventing her from falling. A knock on the door surprised us both and instinctively I reached for my Glock.

  “Go to the bathroom,” I ordered, low and stern and she quickly obliged. “Who is it?” I called, with a hand on the door handle, my gun positioned.

  “Room service,” replied the muffled voice.

  Nina’s eyes were wide, panicked, as I opened the door slightly. I had to catch myself, refrain from reacting to the man who stood in front of me. He was dressed in a neatly pressed hotel uniform, holding an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The giveaway was the sugar skull tattoos covering his hands and knuckles and the wicked gleam in his eyes.

  Los Santos.

  “We didn’t order room service.”

  “Compliments of the house. Would you like me to come in and pour you a glass?”

  Doubtful.

  “I’ll take it from here.”

  “Very well.” He passed me the ice bucket while slipping a small vial and note into my hand.

  He walked backward down the hall, a sinister smile plastered over his smug face.

  Closing the door and latching the chain, I placed the ice bucket on the table and pocketed the note and vial.

  “What did it say?” Nina asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “With compliments. Rubbish,” I responded, my back to her.

  “Why would they send it to us?”

  This time I turned. “I don’t know.”

  “Do they know we’re here?”

  Her eyes were terrified.

  “No,” I lied.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’m not.”

  It was time. There had to be another way. If I told her about my affiliation with Los Santos cartel, perhaps she would agree to help as part of an investigation to bring them down.

  I smiled at her beautiful face wishing we had met in a different time, under better circumstances.

  “Are you teasing me?” she asked, faking indignation.

  I took a few steps forward sliding my hands up Nina’s arms and cupped the back of the neck, tilting her face to mine.

  “I’d like very much to tease you,” I rumbled. “But first we need to talk.”

  “Talk?”

  Letting her go, I put on my jacket. “Yes, I have some plans we need to discuss.” I met her confused face. “Rather pressing plans.”

  “Ah, okay. Can’t we just discuss them here, in the room?”

  “Cariña, I have a weakness… that’s you being close to a bed. I can’t, and I won’t concentrate on a word I say if all I’m thinking about is having you under me.”

  That beautiful blush of hers reddened her cheeks once again. “Well… when you say it like that,” she stumbled.

  “Let’s go. I’ve made a reservation downstairs.”

  Nina’s hackles were raised as we entered the restaurant, her suspicions and unanswered questions over almost everything were not adding up. My demeanor wasn’t helping as the final hours bore down on us. Eventually, as the wine flowed and she relaxed, we fell into easy conversation until her natural curiosity won.

  “How did you and Evan Jacobs meet?”

  “Similar interests.”

  “Like?”

  My fingers drummed on the base of my wine glass. “People. Things.”

  “That’s very evasive.”

  “It’s safer that way.”

  “Why?”

  Because if I told you the truth I would never see you again.

  “In my line of work, the fewer people know about me, the better.”

  “Are you really Colombian?”

  “Tell me about you. Since you are the target, I’d like to know more about who I’m dealing with.”

  “I don’t know why I’m a target. I know you rattled something off about having ‘knowledge,’ but in all honesty, I don’t possess anything that would help anyone.”

  “Why did you become an agent?”

  “What?”

  “It doesn’t suit you. So why did you become one?”

  My observation rattled her. But it was true. She was far too innocent to be an agent.

  “Nina, it takes a certain mindset to be an agent. While I can see you’re an intelligent woman, you don’t belong on the streets chasing people or investigating the corrupt scum of society. You certainly don’t belong in a world where you’re being hunted down by a drug cartel. So why did you become an FBI agent?”

  For the next few minutes, I listened to the events that happened in her young life that encouraged this career path. Her father’s brutal murder of which she knew nothing of Los Santos involvement, to her first year as a rookie agent and losing her partner, Garcia. Of which, she again knew nothing of his involvement with Los Santos.”

  “Your boss… Delacroix. Can you trust him?”

  “Up until a few days ago, I thought I could.”

  “What makes you question him?”

  “His behavior over Garcia’s death. It was plain and simple not a home invasion. And the Chief seemed more than happy to brush it under the carpet. I don’t know why, and I probably will never know, because it seems he’ll do whatever it takes to stop me from finding out. You appear to be the only one who isn’t deceiving me.”

  “Don’t do that.” My jaw clenched.

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t put me on a pedestal.”

  She seemed genuinely apologetic even though I was the asshole. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to say that I could trust—”

  “You don’t know me well enough to trust me, cariña. I’m not above deception.”

  My words did not fall on deaf ears.

  “That sounded like a warning,” she barely breathed.

  “Perhaps it is.”

  Nina dropped her fork letting it clatter into the porcelain bowl.

  “I’m a little confused. Maybe it’s the wine,” she began. “No, it’s not the wine, this is how you always make me feel. Second guessing whose side you’re on. If you’re even on a side. Second guessing whether I’m safe with you.”

  “Why would you not be safe?”

  “Do you even hear yourself, Jair? Telling me I can’t trust you. That I shouldn’t be vulnerable. That you are just like ‘them.’ And now you’re saying you’re not above the act of deceiving me. Is this a game to you? For some fucked up reason, men from some cartel I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting or even investigating are trying to kill me, abduct me, I don’t even know what the fuck they want from me. My Chief is treating me like I’m quickly becoming the enemy of the state, and you have me analyzing every word you do and don’t say, so I know whether you truly have my best interests at heart.”

  To put it simply, I was a cunt.

  A self-serving asshole hellbent on revenge. I knew it. She didn’t y
et, but soon she would see the type of man I really was. I locked eyes with her.

  “I understand your apprehension, cariña. I do, honestly. But what I see is a woman who without me is quite easily going to be six foot under as soon as she tells me to walk. What you are choosing to see is a hero who can save you from the men seeking your blood. When in reality they and I, we all stem from the same societies soaked in deceit, violence, drugs and treachery. Fact of the matter is, I’ve killed for precisely the same reasons they’ve killed. My boot has walked through the blood of victims the same amount of times as they’ve strung theirs up from a bridge. I can be your saint for a day, a night, a week, but at the end of our time together just know that even the devil was an angel.”

  She was nervous, and for some reason I took pleasure from that.

  “Finish your meal,” I instructed, pulling a chunk of steak off my fork.

  Instead of food, she opted for more wine. I understood, given everything she was dealing with.

  It was time.

  “We should settle the score.”

  Nina was not yet on board with the idea. In fact, she outright refused. She was rightfully apprehensive and would take further convincing. With my hand on the small of her back, I led her back through the restaurant. Inside my pocket, my cell buzzed.

  It would only be one person.

  Retrieving it, I saw Gabriel’s name.

  “Cariña, I have to take this, and you look exhausted. Please, go upstairs and relax.”

  She agreed without question and made a path for the elevator while I took the call.

  “Gabriel,” I greeted.

  “Brother. Or should I call you… Ruiz.” He chuckled at his own joke, and I failed to see the humor in it. “How’s the champagne? It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Still on ice,” I responded dryly.

  “I expect Agent Nina Cross within the next twenty-four hours.” He was suddenly all business.

  “I’m working on it.” There was a bitter edge to my tone.

  “It’s one thing to leave me hanging, brother. Another to waste my uncle’s time.”

  “What do you mean?” My heart picked up pace.

  “Luis will be here in a day or two, which means the girl should have been here yesterday.”

  I was conflicted, my silence interpreted as rebellion.

  “Don’t fuck with me, brother. I’ve been lenient enough.”

  Luis Santos would be closer than ever before. No more searching. No more waiting for the time to get the justice the La Balsa people deserved. Luis Santos could be dead before the week was out. But then there was Nina. Her life was my top priority. I let her go, and I would be allowing Los Santos and Baja to maul her to death, keep her close, Nina could give Los Santos what they wanted and then I return her safe.

  There was only one option.

  “We will see you soon.”

  Nina was sound asleep when I returned. She’d showered, a thin mist of steam still looming in the bathroom. Claiming the single chair in the corner of the room, I watched, studying the girl whose life I was about to ruin. Her long dark hair splayed across the pillow, the hem of her oversized nightshirt revealing the curve of her ass.

  She slept fitfully. It began with some quiet murmurs, her limbs twitching. But after a few minutes, she was calling out for ‘Jair.’

  She needed me.

  But it wasn’t me.

  Her pleas were of desperation, tears slipping over her temples. When the twitching turned to thrashing, I crawled over the bed and straddled her, reigning in the movement.

  “Nina!” I called. “Cariña, wake up.”

  With a sudden jolt, her eyes opened, a confused face meeting mine. She was flushed, panicked. Whatever happened in the nightmare had spooked her so much she couldn’t make sense of the present, and why I had been on top of her. Perhaps she wasn’t calling for me. Perhaps I was the enemy she was running from. She pushed hard against my chest, and sensing her urgency I moved to the end of the bed. Scrambling to the top, Nina hugged her knees while trying to pace her breathing.

  “Cariña, what happened?” I asked gently.

  She watched me with caution and an element of guilt. “You… you were chasing me through a brick maze. There was something different about you.”

  Because I’m not the man you think I am.

  She was crying, and I moved to wipe the tears away.

  “Don’t!” She recoiled.

  “It was just a dream, cariña. It wasn’t real,” I lied.

  It was very much her reality.

  “Then why does it feel so real?”

  “You’ve been through a lot the last few days, I’m not surprised.”

  “But, it wasn’t just you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were the one chasing and taunting me, but when you leaned in to kiss me you became him.”

  “Him?”

  “The man from the convenience store. He was laughing and had me trapped.”

  I stilled. Her subconscious had, in a way, revealed the truth. And this was her reaction. I needed to deal with the fact that when this was all over, I would never see her again. She would distance herself from me like I was a leper.

  “Cariña, it was just a dream,” I soothed, crawling up the bed toward her. Nina accepted my comfort allowing me to cup her sodden cheeks. I kissed her. It was soft, gentle, loaded with a passionate longing.

  Nina groaned gently against my mouth, and I pulled her underneath me, her legs wrapping around my waist.

  That night, before life changed forever, we made love. I took my time savoring Nina’s body, tasting, touching, and having her beg for more. She gave herself to me completely without question, without restraint. I took what she gave and returned as much. This was us, raw, in need of each other and complete.

  Nina Cross brought light to my blackened soul.

  I could never let Los Santos, or myself for that matter, destroy it.

  My finger trailed a line from her neck, between her breasts and down to her navel. “Your body, it responds to every touch, even if it’s just a whisper. It blushes, shudders, silently screams for more.” Lowering my lips to Nina’s, I graze them. “And nothing gets me off more than controlling your body like that.”

  “You do seem that way inclined,” she teased.

  “I possess ultimate control in everything I do.” I sat back, zipping my pants with my head warring.

  Just say it.

  “Let’s go to Mexico and finish this.”

  She stilled, a slight frown forming.

  “Jair, I don’t even know who the enemy is, and you expect me to fight.”

  “But they know us. Now’s our time to turn the tables.”

  She sucked in her bottom lip and bit hard. I could see her internal struggle, and I was an asshole for not ending it.

  “I cross the border, I lose all help from the US.”

  “You have me.” I may be the villain in the end, but I would get her home safe. “Besides…” I continued, “…it seems your agency has already cut you from the family.”

  She shook her head, eyes reddening. “I can’t.”

  Her decision was final.

  I felt for her.

  I didn’t want it to be this way.

  Turning my back to Nina, I poured two glasses of champagne and sprinkled some of the white powder into one of the glasses. It dissolved within seconds.

  I’m sorry Nina.

  I handed her a glass, innocent eyes looking as beautiful as ever. “Salud,” I said, holding her gaze.

  With a need to quell her anxiety, she took three long mouthfuls of champagne. That was going to hit her quicker than I expected. I wanted to knock the glass from her hand, to have her vomit up the contents. But it was too late.

  “You’re an enigma,” she began.

  “Oh?”

  “I haven’t even come close to figuring you out.” She frowned, shaking her head slightly. The drug was taking effect. “I can�
�t decide if I should fear or trust you.”

  Both.

  “Cariña, maybe you’re right,” I began, placing my glass on the table. “You see, I’m not entirely good. I’m not entirely bad. But I’m enough of a little of each to ruin you.”

  She recoiled, slow from the drugs, but almost like I had slapped her.

  “What did you just say?”

  She made to move, looking around for her clothes, but she fumbled. She was nauseated and unsure what to do.

  Knowing time was limited, and I didn’t want her still naked when it happened, I turned to pick her shirt off the ground. When I faced her again, her eyes were wide with horror, all color long since drained from her face. She seemed focused on one thing, desperately in her haze trying to see it again.

  My tattoo.

  I had many, but only one caught her attention.

  One she had seen before.

  One that belonged to the enemy hunting her down.

  The same Mother Mary design seen on the Santos man in the convenience store. The one who chased her in her dreams.

  The one she saw me as being.

  She went to stand, panicked and frightened, but it was too late. She fell, her head landing on the pillow. She has lost all muscle strength.

  “What’s happening?” she barely mumbled.

  The door opened and four sketchy looking Santos men similar to those at the convenience store walked in. Their Glocks were poised, but they would have no use for them here.

  Nina’s eyes welled with tears before finally they slid closed, the drug having done its job. Surrounding the bed, like the vultures they were, they took in her naked state, eyes gleaming with the filthy things they could do to her.

  “You’re not needed,” I snapped, ready to shoot each one in the back of the head.

  “We’re here to take her,” one announced not breaking his stare.

  “You’re not touching, Nina. I will carry her out, so you can wait outside until I dress her.”

  One of them turned, his face twisted into a snarl. It was the man who had delivered the champagne. “You have thirty seconds. After then, the bitch is ours. And we can’t by any means promise you her welfare.” A smirk twisted his scarred face.