Cruz
It was as if the trees parted and the danger fell away as I marched up the path to Chavez’s luxurious Spanish mansion. It was unfair that a man so evil, who’d ruined the lives of so many innocent people, lived such a life of opulence.
Two guards stood watch at the front gate. I raised my gun and shot them both in the head before they could even touch their guns. Levi, Oscar, Cade, and Ryder followed behind me. We’d left Johnny and his boys to clean up at the cave site. Levi had put in a call to Jolie and Piper who were touching base with Washington and the DEA to arrange the higher-ups an opportunity to get there and take credit for the takedown of Emilio Chavez.
Only they wouldn’t get him alive.
That ship had sailed the minute he’d signed the warrant for Lydia’s death.
I pushed the thought out of my mind, knowing if I dwelled on my loss, I’d fall apart. And revenge was on the menu for the moment.
Shots were fired as more men tried to block our entry into Chavez’s house, but we made quick work of them. Nothing would stop me today.
When I reached the front door, I kicked it in and pushed inside. The place was empty. As I’d suspected, most of his security detail was at the cave. Chavez was too arrogant to consider anyone might get past his hired thugs.
Each door I met I kicked open, waiting to find Chavez’s office. Because I knew him. And that’s where he’d be.
Sure enough, the last door down the hallway was closed tight. I kicked, but the door didn’t budge. Reinforced. No worries.
I aimed the gun at the handle and shot three times. I twisted it open and stepped inside.
Chavez stood behind his desk, a pistol raised and pointed at my chest, and a smile on his face.
Calm. Cool. Collected.
He was the epitome of confidence and peace.
“Cruz, so nice to see you again.”
“I figured it’s a nice day for you to die.”
Chavez laughed, shaking his head as if I’d said the funniest thing ever.
“If you kill me, you’ll never find her.”
“Find who?”
“Don’t play stupid. Lydia, of course.”
“Lydia is dead. Juan Carlos told me right before he took his last breath. And I saw the blood. Now it’s your turn.”
“She’s not dead.”
Hope is a cruel wench. She flared to life, blossoming inside my chest, giving me a glimpse of a future that still held Lydia in it.
“I see you want to believe me. You should. Now, let’s discuss how this is going to go down.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I knew what she meant to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you think I chose her? You cried out for her for weeks in your sleep. Begging her to save you. Begging her to wait for you. Pathetic, really.”
He knew her? He chose her purposely? To torture me?
I took two steps forward, and Chavez shook his head. “Oh, no. No closer or I’ll shoot.”
“I guarantee I’m a better shot.”
“Maybe, but the possibility that she’s alive is too great for you. Plus, I haven’t finished telling you my tale.”
“What tale is that?”
“You were the only one to get away, Lorenzo. There had been others before you, but you escaped. So, I searched for you. For three years, I came up short. I knew you weren’t dead. You were too damned stubborn for that.”
Chavez laughed, propping his feet on the desk as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“So, when Cade blew his cover, I did a little digging. My guys came to the fights. Took pictures. When I saw that picture of you, I knew it was you. It had to be.
“I started to plan. What would bring you into my fold? And then I remembered her name. It didn’t take a lot of searching to find one Lydia Ayala who’d mourned Lorenzo Gallos three years ago. I kidnapped her and then sought a bodyguard. I knew you’d come. So predictable.”
It was all my fault she’d been taken. All my fault she might be dead. Anger at Chavez burned hot in my chest, and guilt gnawed at my gut over what he’d done to the woman I loved.
“Do you know how much fun it was to watch your reaction every time I kissed her? Every time I touched her? I could see the violence on your face. You wanted to kill me, but you couldn’t.”
I stepped closer, and Chavez raised the gun again, aiming it at my heart. I stopped, but he kept it there, centered on my chest.
“Then that whore rescued you and stole my fun. You were supposed to watch her marry me knowing you’d never have her. And then, I would have killed her while you watched. It’s a shame she died before I could play that little plan out. Weak blood, I guess.”
“You bastard!”
I launched myself over the desk, just as the shot went off, and the gun tumbled from his fingers. Fire burned in my shoulder, but I was blind with rage. My hands wrapped around his throat as I reached him, both of us tumbling to the floor.
We struggled for dominance. Chavez was no small guy. He was muscle-bound, and I knew he fought on a regular basis to keep himself in shape. It showed in his moves as he flipped and climbed on top. His fist shot out, clipping my chin. I bucked and struggled to reach my knife. He hit me again, and this time stars blossomed before my eyes.
The fire in my shoulder didn’t stop me from reaching for my knife, just as I twisted underneath him, throwing him off balance. Chavez reached for the gun, just as my arm swung around, stabbing him in the neck with my Ka-Bar, plunging deep into his carotid artery.
Chavez clutched his throat, his hands trying to gain purchase on the knife protruding from his throat, the blood gushing out with every pulse of his heart. Within seconds his eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped over.
I could still hear gunfire outside, although it was minimal. The finality of everything hit me square in the chest as I staggered out the front doors. I didn’t notice the fire in my shoulder, or the soreness in my muscles. It was as if I was hovering above, observing everything from afar.
Levi and Cade stood guard in front of the house, as Oscar rounded up the final man standing in Chavez’s employ. The whomp-whomp-whomp of a helicopter sounded in the distance, and I knew the cavalry was on their way.
The air was thick with death. I’d thought killing Chavez would give me closure—but it wouldn’t bring Lydia back. Emptiness. That’s all I felt.
Despair washed over me, and I fell to the porch, sobs taking over. Levi and Cade moved to help me, but I waved them off. I wanted it all to be a bad dream. To wake up and find Lydia asleep in my bed, drowsy and mussed. Warm and lazy. Her lips swollen and red from my kisses.
I closed my eyes and let loose a cry. Soft hands touched my face, and I jerked around to find Pilar kneeling beside me, one arm casted and bruises coloring her lovely face.
“Cruz, are you okay?”
“No. She’s gone, Pilar. She’s gone.”
I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her. She shook her head violently as she stroked my back.
“No, hijo. She’s not. Come. She needs your help.”
I lurched to my feet, unsteady and shaky. Scared to believe what she was saying. Terrified to hope.
“Where is she?”
“Down here. She’s not well.”
Pilar opened the door to the basement, and I followed after her. When I reached the center room, ropes hung from the ceiling and the floor was covered in blood. Lydia’s blood. How much blood could one small woman lose and still be alive?
“What did they do to her?”
Pilar wept silently as she opened the door to a small room that had been built off to the side. The room was dark, only the light spilling from the single bulb in the basement illuminating the tiny space.
Curled up on her side on a small cot was a woman. Her face was bloodied and bruised. She was bare from the waist up, and I could see the skin on her back was torn and ragged. Bruises covered her body, and her leg was twisted at an unnatural angle.
“Oh, dear God.”
Lydia.