Intimate Enemies (39 page)

He pushed her back from his chest, brushed the wet strands of hair from her face and pressed his forehead to hers. “How could you do this? After how much I’ve hurt you? After everything I’ve done?”

She didn’t have the energy to hold her head up and let it drop to his shoulder. Sniffled. “Lorena reminded me that Saul is capable of driving people to drastic, uncharacteristic actions. It happened with Mama, Santos, me, and I know it happened with you, Rio. Because I know what’s in here.” She rubbed his chest, warm beneath the cotton. “In my eyes, whatever he’s driven you to do falls under extenuating circumstances. I just want us to start over. Start fresh.”

She forced herself to lift her head and look at him. His thick black lashes were damp and clumped. He’d been crying. If she’d had any lingering reservations, they disappeared in that moment.

“Everyone needs someone,” she whispered and kissed him gently. “I want you to know you have me.”

The way he looked at her in that moment, with awe and appreciation and more love than any man had ever shown her, confirmed she’d made the right decision.

His fingers closed lightly on her chin. “
Dios mio
, I don’t know how I could love you more than I do right now.”

When he kissed her, Cassie melted into him, opened to him, and held as tight as she could.

By the time the ring of his phone brought them up for air, she’d somehow twisted in the seat and straddled his lap. Dizzy, she looked around outside the Jeep, the public sidewalk, the pedestrians strolling by. And she couldn’t care less. Which made her smile.

But Rio wasn’t smiling. He was staring into the middle distance with a blank look, listening to whoever spoke on the phone. He’d gone completely pale beneath his bronze tone. Cassie caught the sound of a deep male voice on the other end of the line. Speaking English, she thought. But before she had time to be sure, Rio said into the phone, “Hold on.”

He kissed her lips. “I need a minute, love.”

A pang of hurt made her frown, but she nodded and let him slip from beneath her. Outside the Jeep, Rio’s tight body language amped Cassie’s blood pressure. He paced in three-step increments before turning and pacing the other direction. He had his free hand crossed over his chest, his hand on his biceps. The skin beneath his fingers had gone white.

Rio disconnected from the caller and immediately made another call. That caller evidently didn’t answer, so he tried another. Spoke for a moment, rubbed his hand down his face, and disconnected.

She pushed the Jeep door open, drawing Rio’s attention.

“Let me help,” she said. “You promised me you’d ask for help if you needed it.”

He hesitated. Nodded. Came back to her, slid his arm around her shoulders and started across the street. “Something’s come up. I have to go somewhere for a little bit, not long, and I don’t have anyone—anyone I trust, anyone who’s capable—to watch after you.” Rio pulled the door to Miguel’s taqueria open for her, then followed her in. “I need you to stay right here, right now.”

“Maria,” Miguel yelled as soon as the bell jingled over the door. “Two sweet teas for Rio and Cassie.”

She felt the first stirrings of anger but knew she couldn’t manage the energy required to act on them. “That’s the help you need from me? To do nothing?”

He directed her into a booth and slid into the seat beside her. “Yes, that’s what I need. You staying here with Miguel and Maria and customers around you will keep both of us safer.”

She wanted to ask why. Wanted to know where he was going. Opened her mouth to start with questions.

“Twenty minutes, love.” He leaned down and kissed her lips and whispered, “That’s all I need.”

He didn’t wait for her response. He stood and headed for the door. But before he walked out, he called to Miguel, put his fingers to his eyes, and pointed to Cassie, silently asking the shop owner to keep his eye on her.

As soon as Rio hit the sidewalk, he started to run. The hair on Cassie’s arms prickled. She shifted in her seat to look out the side window as Rio darted across the main street against the light, getting several honks from anger motorists, and sprinted toward the marina.

She forced her waterlogged mind to turn but couldn’t come up with anything at the marina that could possibly warrant—

“Oh, no.” Fear exploded in a ball of heat at the center of her chest. The harbor—gang territory, murders, mutilations.

Someone placed a glass of tea on the table, and Cassie turned, expecting Maria but finding Miguel. She grabbed his hand. “Is there something happening at the marina? With the gangs? Have you heard any news? Any rumors?”

Frowning, he looked out the window. “I haven’t heard anything about the marina…but, how long did Rio say he’d be gone?”

“Twenty minutes, why?”

“Because Margarita just called. She owns—”

“The bakery two streets over.”

“Yeah. She said Paco is headed this way, and he’s looking for you.”

Her heart skipped. “Shit.” Cassie pulled money from her pocket and handed it to Miguel. “I’m going with Rio.”

Cassie took a convoluted route toward the marina, pausing in shadowed doorways and sneaking down alleys. By the time she got there, she was sweating, dizzy, and weak. She spotted Rio easily at the dock. His back was toward her, his forearms resting on the top rail, one foot resting on the bottom. Another man stood next to him in the exact same position. Just one man, and not anyone Cassie recognized, so she decided not to interrupt. The way Rio had jetted down here, this wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

She leaned her back against the Dumpster Rio himself had used to hide behind just a week earlier to spy on Cassie. She pulled off her hat, wiped down her face, and repositioned the cap on her sweaty head. She was working on stress overload and dehydration. She couldn’t wait to get back to the estate and float in the ocean for a while, then take a long nap and drink a gallon or two of spring water.

She scanned the sidewalk just behind her and the street beyond, which was mostly quiet but for one group of three men on the farthest street corner. She couldn’t tell the
Muertos
from the
Diablos
unless they were close up, and she spotted gang insignia tattoos, but she definitely marked them as gang.

Her stomach tightened. She wished she were closer to Rio and refocused on the dock, judging the distance and whether she thought she could reach him before those guys could reach her. But Rio’s body language turned her mind in another direction.

He was no longer relaxed but standing straight and talking to the other man with emphatic gestures. She couldn’t hear him, so he couldn’t be yelling, but he was definitely pissed. The other man remained leaning on the dock, and Cassie’s curiosity picked up. She crept to the edge of the Dumpster and watched their interaction. The other man straightened from the railing, and Cassie assessed his build. Just a fraction taller than Rio and heavily muscular; a football player to Rio’s swimmer.

The man shifted, twisted toward Rio, and a bulge beneath his shirt at the base of his spine drew her attention. Then she noticed other things. Things that niggled just below the surface. His stance, his air of confidence, of authority. His gestures—not the negligent gang slouch, but the tight, professional posture of a…cop.

Her gaze jerked up. Narrowed on the man’s profile. But the sun was so bright, her eyes so tired. Then he started getting into the conversation with Rio, one that, from the tight shoulders, shifting feet, and hot gestures, looked like it was bordering on argument.

“No, man.” Broken pieces of Rio’s growing anger floated on the air. “You don’t understand… Can’t…”

The other man’s words remained a mystery. But he put a finger to Rio’s chest and said something two inches from his face. Then he leaned back, cocked his hip, crossed his arms, and tilted his head, the stance filled with so much familiar arrogance, Cassie’s heart rose to her throat.

She took one lunging step out from the shadow of the Dumpster. “Mike.”

He couldn’t have heard her; his name barely registered to her own ears. But both men must have seen her move, because their heads turned in unison, two pairs of familiar eyes sharp and menacing pinned on her. Until recognition hit. Then Mike mouthed a string of curses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and pulled out his phone. Rio jammed his hands to his hips and glared, his fury palpable even across a hundred yards.

The phone in her pocket rang, making her jump. Realizing it was Mike, she fumbled and answered. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to get your stupid ass home, but it sounds like you are in so fucking deep even I can’t get you out.”

“Hey. I don’t care who the fuck you are.” Rio yelled in the background as Cassie watched him grab Mike’s shoulder. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Her heart spiked again. “Is he…? Is Rio a…?”

“Yes, babe, and you have so royally screwed him, I can’t even tell you.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” This from Rio. “She’s been through hell. She doesn’t need this shit from you …”

Mike held up his hand to her across the parking lot and started toward her. “Now hold on, Cass. That’s not what I mea—”

But Cassie was laughing. Laughing at the really peeved look on Rio’s handsome face. Her heart spinning at the way he automatically defended her, protected her. She closed her phone with the first real blips of true joy registering in her heart.

“Cassie,” Rio called to her across the lot even while walking toward her alongside Mike. “Come here.”

And there, side by side, God, she could see it so clearly now. Their walk, their manner, the confidence that was as much a part of them as their hair and skin colors. Even the serious sets to their mouths and the way their sharp gazes scanned the area.

Relief swelled in her belly, so fast, so overwhelming, another wave of tears threatened. She looked down and wiped them away before she started toward them. And in the wake of all the stress, her head went light.

“Cassie!”

Mike and Rio yelled in unison, and she looked up to find them running, full out, toward her.

“Behind you!”

The meaning of the words hadn’t registered when the ear-piercing screech of metal made her drop into a partial crouch and cover her head.
Car crash
filled her mind first. Then an arm slammed across her stomach from behind, wrenching a cry from her lungs.

Terror seared a path straight down her chest. The muffled blare of a horn sounded somewhere close. Screams from another direction. And orders—from Rio or Mike or both, she couldn’t tell, because everything seemed distant to the thunderous rush of blood in her ears. She threw an elbow. Threw another. Gained an inch of space and spun on her attacker—a man outfitted in camouflage, his face concealed by a black knit mask.

Panic clawed at her throat. Images flicked through her mind: Paco. Santiago’s gaping throat. News clippings of corpse piles. The truck on the freeway. The three dead girls. Pedro. All that blood.

He lunged for her. Sank one huge hand into her biceps, the other into her hair, and jerked her forward. A machine gun lay strapped across his chest—
oh, fuck, no
—a truck with the rear door already partially open waited behind him.

Cassie pulled, twisted, jerked. And, God, did she scream. She couldn’t believe the decibels that came out of her. The fight felt like it went on for hours, but it had to have been only minutes, because Rio and Mike were still running toward her. She just had to fight a little bit longer. Just until they reached her.

But Camo Man hauled her over his shoulder, and, with a growl that transitioned into a scream, he climbed into the truck and kicked the metal siding. The truck’s engine revved, the vehicle jerked and hiccupped into motion just as the man pushed Cassie off his shoulder.

The joint momentum sent Cassie bouncing across the cargo space. She hit her hip, her back, and finally her shoulder, but pushed off a wall, dug her sneakers into the metal floor, and made an all-star slide for the rolling door, but her kidnapper blocked her path.

That was when she saw Rio. He was yards ahead of Mike and still running after the van as it pulled away. The expression on his face was the most fierce, terrified look Cassie had ever seen—in her worst trauma, in the most heinous movie, in any nightmare—and the extremity of it reaffirmed her terror.

She clutched at the attacker’s legs, trying to pull him off-balance. He lost his grip on the door, but he kicked her away. When she’d found her hands and knees again, the man had picked up the weapon at his chest. He set his stance wide, threw the strap off his shoulder, and aimed the rifle at Rio.

Cassie pushed off the floor so hard she flew across the cargo hold. She grabbed on to the man’s jacket, sank her fingers in, and didn’t let go. They both hit the floor hard. The rifle jettisoned out of his hands and ricocheted around the space. The rear door rattled and slid a little farther closed. The combination of momentum, her light weight, and the rutted roads continued to bounce Cassie around the truck like a popcorn kernel.

When she stopped, she immediately searched for the weapon. Found it lying closer to her than to him. She lunged with the intention of throwing it out the partially open door. She laid both hands on the cool metal for a full second before the man ripped it out of her hands, bellowed, “Bitch!” and used the rifle as a bat against Cassie’s head.

Twenty-Three

Rio braked on the estate’s driveway, stopping out of view. He wasn’t done screaming at Kollman, and he had to get his shit together before he confronted Saul. Rio still didn’t know if a gang had Cassie or if Saul had pulled another of his insane power plays.

“I don’t care if you have to call out the fucking president himself, Karl. I did everything but suck your dick to get her out of here. Whatever happens to her is on you, and I’ll make sure everyone and their goddamned unborn nephew knows about it.”

He was so going to get fired, and he couldn’t care less. After watching Cassie take down a man twice her size to save his life, then get hammered in the head for her efforts… Bile seared Rio’s stomach. He gritted his teeth and strangled the steering wheel until the wave passed. He would crawl over every inch of this wretched desert until he found her. Then he’d execute every man remotely responsible, starting with Saul.