Merciless Vows by Faith Summers

43

Lucca

“We got the details on the guy, Lucca,” Aiden says, and I press the phone to my ear. “His name is Eduardo Ramirez.”

This is the long-awaited information I’ve been counting down the days to receive. Gibbs was true to his word.

The air expels from my lungs as I glance at Aria asleep in the bed and walk out onto the landing so she can’t hear me.

“Where can I find him?” I ask, still keeping my voice low. Sound carries more freely in this beach house.

“Tijuana. He’s willing to meet later today, but for a price. He's allowing you to bring one person with you.”

I thought there would be stipulations like this, so I was ready for it.

“You. I want to take you with me.” It should be him for several reasons. The first obvious one is only he, and I know about this latest discovery. The next reason is out of honor. Aiden is a Pakhan, too, who’s been affected by Raphael’s shit, and he’s gone above and beyond to help me.

“You sure you don’t want to take one of your men?”

“No. You deserve to know what’s going on and hear it firsthand. I can brief my men later.”

“Alright, I appreciate that. In that case, we can ride together.”

“How much does he want?”

“A million dollars.”

“Motherfucker. Is he serious?”

“Serious as fuck. Whatever he has to tell us better be fucking worth it, or he’s dead. I’ll skin him alive myself for making me miss time with my woman and my kids.”

Aiden’s serious. He’s one of the few family men I know who makes sure he divides his time between his family and work evenly.

“And I’ll help.” For wasting my time too. Today is my first day of being a husband, and now that I have the title, it feels like shit just got real.

“I’ll pay this guy,” he offers.

“No, Aiden. I’ll do it.”

Aiden laughs. “Merciless, either they’ve been paying you very well, or those cars of yours have wings. I will pay. Let’s class it as a very expensive wedding present. If ever we need to prove a paper trail, then it’s on me. Not you. No one can come for me in that way.”

I see his point. “Thanks. Next time we have an asshole we need to pump for information, I’ll pay.”

“Sure thing.” He smirks. “I’ll pick you up at your place at two. He wants us there by five. That gives us time if we get stuck in traffic.”

“See you then.”

He hangs up, and I gaze out the window at the sea pulling in and out of the shore. It's barely two in the morning, but the view is still scenic. The kind I wish I had more time to enjoy.

It’s hard to believe I got married less than twenty-four hours ago. When I was here last, this plan of mine was just in writing. I was still looking for some leverage to hold over Raphael.

Now, look at me. Things are about to change dramatically.

The creek of the floorboards makes me swivel my head to face the beauty who just came out of the bedroom.

She’s wearing my shirt, which looks sexy as fuck on her--my wife.

I had an overnight bag delivered here ahead of our arrival.

I was hoping we’d have more than one day here together, but at least we had something.

“Is everything okay?” she asks cautiously.

“Yeah.”

She brings her hands together, and worry fills her beautiful face. “Do you have to go?”

I walk up to her and take her hands in mine. “Not yet. We still have some time.”

I lean closer and kiss her.

“How much time do we have?”

“Enough time for me to take my wife back to bed and make her mine all over again. " I grin. "Then we can walk on the beach and head back.”

She smiles at that. “Really?”

“Yes.”

I pick her up and take her back to bed, where we stay until the sun comes up.

We walk on the beach for over an hour, then head home.

And that’s it. My normal with her ends.

Reality takes over at two p.m. sharp when Aiden comes to pick me up.

* * *

From the moment I see the shabby-looking house in the back of the market by the beach, I understand why Eduardo asked for a million dollars. My bet is he wants to leave this place.

The house is situated amongst a row that has the same rundown look. This area is more like a shanty town than what is depicted in some of the postcards in the market stalls. The air is also foul with a combination of shit, piss, and something else… Sin.

Three women who look like prostitutes stand at the corner of the street, eyeing us as a Mexican boy, no older than sixteen, walks out of the house.

“I’m to lead you to him,” he states with a hint of a Spanish accent. "He says no weapons."

“That's not happening.” I shake my head. "We take our weapons, or he's not getting shit from us."

The boy glances at the women, and one of them nods to him as if giving the all-clear.

"Okay," the boy says, and he turns to walk down the pavement leading back into the house.

Aiden leans in close as we follow. “Well said,” he whispers.

“Of course.” I don’t like the look of this place, and nobody can be blamed for being too careful in our line of work.

We follow the boy and see straight away that there’s more to the house than the exterior allows you to believe.

There’s a long passageway, almost like an extension of the street, and the rooms have been separated into smaller sections with sheets dividing each part.

I spot several pairs of eyes that turn away when they see us. Men, women, and children. Some of the women have babies and scurry away to safety, probably sensing we’re dangerous men.

“Down here.” The boy points down a dark cavern, and Aiden glances at me.

“How much further?” I ask.

“Not much,” the boy answers, continuing down the path that’s now taking us underground.

We follow the path now lit with candles on the walls. The air is actually fresher down here and gets even cleaner the further down we go.

When we turn onto a path with an opened door at the end and the boy looks back at me, I guess we’ve arrived at our destination.

“Just go inside,” the boy instructs. “He’s sitting by the table waiting.”

I nod my thanks, and the boy leaves us.

Aiden and I walk in. It’s part of an old underground mine shaft. Probably part of what’s used today for drug runs, but this guy looks like he managed to get exclusivity of the place.

He’s made it look like a home. I guess that’s what you can buy from those who are loyal to you when you are an ex-leader of a cartel.

Each opening is a room with furniture inside, and he's sitting behind a wooden table beside a hole in the wall that can pass for a window. I can see glimpses of the beach outside.

When he turns to face us, I see half of his face is in a mask that looks like something from Phantom of the Opera. While he wears a jumper with a high neck, visible burn marks trail down from his ear and disappears beneath the fabric.

That’s bad enough, but he also doesn’t have a right arm. I’m guessing that was part of the lesson he was taught for talking to the feds.

“Hello, a pleasure to have you in my home,” he greets us in the same accent as the boy. His is more watered, though.

“Good day, Sir,” I answer.

“Please sit where you can. Sorry I don’t have anything more comfortable.” He motions his head to the tattered leather sofa before him that looks like something someone threw out.

“We’re not here for comfortable,” Aiden intones.

“I know, but I used to be human once, and that part of me is embarrassed to invite men like you into a place like this. When I lived in the world of the living, I had a palace and family. I had servants who would greet my guests, and I would at least have a guard to check those guests didn’t have the guns I told them not to bring.”

Aiden cuts me a glance, which means he wants me to take the lead on this.

“Eduardo,” I begin and give him a hard gaze. I’m not foolish enough to underestimate him just because he lives in this place and is no longer the man he used to be. He’s supposed to be dead, and he’s thrown Raphael off his scent. This man is no fool, so I won’t talk to him like one. “I presume you know who we are.”

“I do.”

“So I’m certain you wouldn’t just let men like us into your home without having the place equipped to take care of us should we step out of line.” I glance at the little teapot on the table by my side. He looks obviously surprised I noticed it. But he must not know what I’m capable of or my attention to detail skills.

Look a little closer, and there’s a clear wire running from it toward the electrical unit by the refrigerator. My guess is this place is rigged with traps that could kill us if he wanted us dead.

“What is that?” I smile, pointing to the teapot.

“A poison wire designed to go off at my choosing.”

“And you want us to come in here without weapons?” Aiden laughs.

With his one eye, Eduardo stares at us and pulls in a rattled breath. The sound is disturbing, and I wonder what Raphael's men actually did to fuck him up.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” I assure him. “We just want the information. That’s it. But we’re keeping our weapons for our safety.”

He nods, agreeing. “Very well then. I guess we have to trust each other. Before we start, I want to make it clear that I’m still a ghost. It’s only through my allies who know Gibbs that I agreed to speak to you, and it’s only because I want vengeance for what was done to me, why I’m going to help. I can’t do shit, but you can.”

“And I will. I just need to know what you know to add to my arsenal against our mutual friend.”

“Then I will tell you everything.”