Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1) (6 page)

I saw the concern for me in his eyes. Was he worried about my apparent morbid curiosity? Or was there something else? I heard the scream come from the building loud and clear. I immediately turned with my binoculars. The mistress was in there, on her knees, screaming her head off. And she was looking directly at me, standing there like a meerkat watching her. She knew it was me, or that I at least had something to do with it. My stomach plummeted, and I tried to swallow the guilt. By the time I turned back, River had already packed up the rifle, and was keeping low as he shuffled across the roof.  I was quick to follow him.

Once we got into the stairwell, he really picked up the pace and he all but flew down them. Adrenaline and fear coursed through me, allowing me follow just as quickly. I felt as though I could run a million miles. By the time we got outside, and ran down a back alleyway away from Filipo’s building, I could already hear sirens coming in our direction. We jumped into River’s truck, and he threw the rifle case into the backseat, only just missing my head as he did.

“You saved a life today, Mack,” he said quietly as he started up the engine. “Well done. I would have taken her out.”

Once again, numbness started to take over my senses. “Why?”

River shook his head. “I don’t like witnesses.”

We pulled out of the alleyway, and I looked down the road behind us. I could see a few police cars race across an intersection, lights flashing and sirens wailing. “What about them?”

“What about them? The El Diablo Cartel owns most of the cops in this town anyway. They’re not going to do anything to us.” He checked his phone. “Not yet, anyway.”

We joined the rest of the traffic, and I replayed the image of Filipo falling onto his desk. My heart pounded at the memory of all the blood and bits everywhere. It was a very quick death. “That was quite a humane way to die, really, wasn’t it?”

“I like to think so. I trained as a sniper, and to be honest, regardless of what was said earlier – it’s my preferred method of killing. Doesn’t always happen that way though, not every situation is suitable for it. Killing up close and personal requires a certain level of skill. Sniper shooting is almost lazy in comparison.”

I was silent for a few moments as I thought about River and his precise concentration up on that roofline, and then I remembered the phone call. “Hey, what did Gabe want?”

River looked over at me. “It’s Carmen. She’s discovered that you weren’t on the plane.” He paused and sighed. “And she’s put a price on your head.”

My blood ran cold. “How much,” I croaked.

River reached over and grabbed my trembling hand. “Ten million US. She wants you caught and dead. It’s a large enough amount that it gives everyone in Mexico an incentive to hunt you down.”

“Oh my God.” I suddenly couldn’t get enough oxygen. I opened the window, inhaling the warm Tijuana air, but it didn’t feel like enough. “I can’t breathe,” I whispered.

River turned on the air-conditioning full blast, and handed me a bottle of water. “Drink,” he ordered. “You’re hyperventilating. The water will help you regulate your oxygen.”

Fuck the water, I thought. Instead, I reached down to the bag at my feet, and before River could even utter a word of protest, I lit a cigarette. He coughed and spluttered in mock protest, but I didn’t give a shit. I now had a dollar value on my life.

After a few puffs, I started to feel a bit better, if only slightly.

“Mack, they don’t know your real identity yet. All they have is Rachel White’s details. We’ll sort something out – like getting Gabe to get you a new passport and name.”

“Rachel White.” I took another puff. Small blessings.

When we got back to River’s house, Gabe was in a panic. Something was going on with border control into the States, and Chase had been held up, meaning that Gabe’s set up over there was now in a mess.

“Everyone is looking for a blue-eyed blonde haired woman, going by the name of Rachel White. The border is a flaming mess. They’re pulling women out of cars to prevent them going across the border – even if they aren’t blonde. I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns into some sort of international incident. It’s holding up Chase, and he’s not going to get to Alicio Mendoza in time – so he’ll be delayed another day over there.”

My breath left me. “Rachel White is being hunted,” I whispered. My head snapped up. “What the hell is going to happen to those women at the border?”

Gabe shrugged. “I guess they’ll double check passports and other supporting identification and let them go. I can’t imagine they’ll detain many.”

River passed me a glass of wine, and I collapsed onto the sofa. He turned the fire on, even though my shaking was only from my nerves. So I lay back, sipped my wine and watched the flames, only partially listening to River and Gabe talk shop. My thoughts were more on how long it would take for Carmen and her team to figure out that Rachel White didn’t exist.

“No, it’s not just on her head, its payment on the delivery of her physical head.”

“So I guess that means we can’t fake it then,” River murmured.

I sat up alert, and turned towards Gabe and River. “What?”

Gabe ran his hands through his long surfer locks with frustration. “Carmen wants your physical head delivered as proof of death, and then she will hand over the payment to the successful person.”

I felt sick. At this rate, the bitch would have me dead before the week was out. My only consolation was that she was hunting for Rachel White, and not McKenna Carmichael. Tears sprang to my eyes. I wasn’t ready to die. Now it wasn’t just her hunting me, it was anyone who wanted to take my life for a shitload of money – and it was becoming increasingly clear to me that the number of people who might want to take her up on that offer was higher than I’d have ever imagined before.

If I died, there would be no one to take care of my aunt, who was living in an aged-care facility. She had taken over my guardianship when my parents died when I was twelve. She was also the same loving woman who signed over her house to me when she went into care. If Luke hadn’t been trying to take my aunt’s house off me, I wouldn’t be here at all, nor would I have tried to prostitute myself to make the money to pay him out.

I slugged back the rest of the wine, and slammed the glass down on the coffee table. I needed something stronger.

I crossed the room to River’s booze cabinet, and extracted the tequila, muttering obscenities about ‘fucking Luke’ as I poured a decent portion into a crystal tumbler. I had to get out of this fucking country alive, for God’s sake. I couldn’t die here. I didn’t want the light from my eyes to go the same way as Regina’s. I had now seen death up close and personal. I didn’t want to have the first-hand experience of being assassinated just yet.

I just wanted to wake up when all this was over.

The tequila burned my throat as I sculled it back, but I didn’t care. Something had to give here, and I’d be damned if it was my life. Alcohol it was.

I put the glass down hard on the sideboard, and poured myself another. I felt River move up behind me, and I forced myself to turn and face him. “I’m going to die, soon, aren’t I?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? You could die of alcohol poisoning tonight if you don’t slow down.”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled. “Yeah well. I would prefer that option to being hunted down like a wild bull and slaughtered.” I took a sip from the glass, and leaned back against the sideboard, feeling lightheaded.

He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me, and looked me in the eyes. “Mack, I know this is hard. Trust me when I say this – I’ve been in your position before. But you need to fight. That's why I am taking you out on observations with me, so you can learn. I’m not going to let that upstart bitch take your head. Not yet anyway.” A smile played on his lips, and I was captivated by his reassuring words. They inspired some sort of confidence in me. Or perhaps that was the tequila burning through my system. Right now it didn’t really matter which.

I felt myself nod, and looked down at the floor. I took a deep breath and looked back up at his unwavering gaze on me. “I guess you'd better start teaching me more then.” And with that thought, I disappeared out onto the terrace to light another cigarette, wishing it was something strong enough to make me forget everything I had seen and heard in this godforsaken country.

* * *

Hangovers sucked. It was still dark outside, but as I groped around for my glass, I could tell that dawn wasn’t too far away. I drained my water, and went to find some orange juice. I never dreamed properly when I had a large intake of alcohol, but it didn’t stop me last night from dreaming about my aging aunt being tortured by that cracked cartel bitch.

When River and Chase told me about this job in Mexico, I hadn’t even hesitated in saying yes. I guess I had been attracted to the riskier side of it, and also the money talked a hell of an argument. Never did I imagine that it would end up like this. All I was supposed to do was become a sort of extra-curricular fascination for Javier Amaro to play with for a while. I didn’t even sleep with him, but I did have the ‘pleasure’ of accompanying him to a few places publically, and ‘enjoying’ his company. And while I was out with Javier, Gabe, Chase, and River were extracting information from Javier’s computer systems on the El Diablo Cartel’s operations.

Everything was running smoothly until Carmen, Javier’s esteemed beauty queen wife, discovered I was on the scene, and interrupted our dinner one night when I was at one of his apartments in the city. I had never considered myself beautiful, but for some reason River and Chase thought that I would be the perfect distraction for Javier. But when I compared myself to Carmen, I had nothing on her. She was stunning. She had dark, calculating eyes, long flowing locks, a body of an hourglass, enhanced breasts, and a backside to match. Her skin was flawless, and she had big pouty lips. Apparently she had claimed some beauty queen title a few years ago, and damn, she probably still could.

Javier was smooth. He was good looking, fortyish, and for a cartel leader, he was surprisingly tender when I was around. I couldn’t imagine why he would get into the ‘business’ as he didn’t seem like that sort of person, although I knew the whole thing had to be a front.

But it was the way he turned on Carmen as she pulled out a gun, that was the thing that had scared me the most. When she let off a shot in my direction – the same bullet that went through my phone – that was the moment he threw her across the room, as if she were as light as a ragdoll. I ran. The last thing I saw of Carmen was her crumpled form on the floor in a heap, gun at her side, while her husband had his raw, blazing-violent, eyes on me as I disappeared from the apartment. That reality was far different from the one I now faced in River’s house.

I reached the kitchen, and rummaged through the fridge, wading through all the healthy food that River and the team loved, and pulled out the orange juice. As I was pouring the juice into my glass, I heard a scuffle. I froze. A number of things coursed through me in that one moment. One: Someone was breaking into the house. Two: Carmen had found me. Three: I needed to run and hide. And four: Contrary to everything I’d just thought, I’d best go and check it out. I deliberated for a second on my options, before hearing another noise, which jolted me into action.

I picked up a large sandstone sculpture from the shelf near the door and tiptoed out of the kitchen, and down the dark hallway. I never realised just how squeaky some of River’s floor boards were until I was trying to be quiet. I winced every time I stood on one, thinking someone would hear me. Then I started worrying that someone would hear my breath as I crept through the dark, so I held it as best I could.

I heard a grunt and a groan, and my head turned sharply towards the noise. It was coming from behind one of the many doorways that led off the passage. I crossed the hall, and leaned my ear to the door. There was another jarring thump, and I sprang back, readying my soapstone sculpture.

Something came over me, and I knew that I had to step through that door as opposed to hiding. Every hair on my body was standing on end as I reached for the door-handle. I leapt through the doorway, and froze. The room was flooded with light, and River had Gabe firmly on his back on a gymnasium floor. River's eyes cut to mine, and then to the sculpture in my hand. He started laughing.

I could see my reflection in the mirrors lining the room, and suddenly I saw what River saw. I looked like a right fool standing there, hair dishevelled, panting from holding my breath, with a wild look in my eye, and to top it all off - in my pyjamas - readying myself for a fight with only a sculpture as my weapon. A giggle escaped me, and before I knew it, Gabe began laughing too.