Karina Halle - Bold Tricks

The girl cringed at the sound of her mother’s voice. In her increasingly delirious state, she was worried that she may have done something to anger her.

Amelie marched into the hospital room, her eyes blazing at the nurse.

“Why are you questioning my daughter?” she yelled, furious, her arms waving. “That isn’t your right.”

The nurse stepped back from the girl but refused to apologize. “I’m concerned about her.”

“Your only concern is to make my daughter better.” Amelie crossed her arms, head held high. She was a striking woman with exotic Eastern European features – high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and dark sloe-eyes. She gave off the impression that she wasn’t afraid but she couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice. “Why are you waking her up in the middle of the night anyway? Let my poor baby sleep.”

The nurse raised her brows. “Your baby was crying in the middle of the night, screaming from the pain. I was the only one around.” She let those last words sink in like daggers.

Amelie sucked in her breath and shook her head. “Don’t you dare question my parenting skills. We had to leave to get some sleep at home. It’s the only way we can be there for her.”

The nurse stared back at her, wondering if she should push it further. She glanced at the girl who was staring at her mother with a mix of admiration and fear. Perhaps there was no use digging around here. If the girl really was being abused or neglected, Child Services would find out about it. They’d already been notified anyway. The Watts could deal with them in the morning.

Finally the nurse sighed and said, “You’ve got five minutes before I’ll need you to leave the room. She’ll need to sleep and the drugs will keep the pain at bay.”

Amelie narrowed her eyes and then looked to her daughter. The nurse left the room, closing the door behind her.

Amelie relaxed visibly once she heard the door shut. She came closer to her daughter and placed a hand on Ellie’s thin, tanned arm, wincing at the sight of the IV going into it.

“Baby,” she whispered. “What did you tell them?’

By now the girl was slowly losing consciousness, eased into a comfortable state by the morphine. She licked her lips and said what she knew her mother wanted her to hear. “I didn’t tell them anything, mama.”

Amelie gave her painful smile. “That’s my baby girl. When you’re feeling better, we’ll let you know what to say. For now, tell them that you were looking for car parts at the dump and that was the last thing you remember. You got it? The last thing you remember.”

“But …” the girl started. “But the man. Travis.” Amelie shuddered at the sound of his name. “He needs to be punished. He needs to go to jail.”

“He will be punished one day, baby,” her mother said. “One day, he will pay. But that’s not your job. We’ll take care of it. I promise.”

Her mother stayed with her, holding her hand.

I’ll make him pay, the girl thought. Then fell asleep.

The storm raged on and inside I was screaming.

I was sitting in a stolen Jeep with no roof, parked on the side of a dirt road beneath a wavering canopy that occasionally let a spattering of rain pelt me in the face. Despite the warmth of the tropical night, I was cold and soaked to the bone in my muddy evening gown. On one side of me was Camden McQueen, on the other was Javier Bernal. One more light than dark, one more dark than light. Both men had come for me. Both men had loved me. And both of them I had seriously underestimated.

There really wasn’t much time to sit around and try to get my head on straight. But after everything that happened, I knew a panic attack was just waiting to devour me, to incapacitate me, to take me out of the game. I could feel the fear buzzing through my veins, threatening to tear me up from the inside out. The fear of losing everything – Gus, my mother, my revenge, my purpose. I feared Javier and what he might do to Camden. I feared Camden and the way he’d changed toward me. I feared myself and the things I might do to try and make sense of it all.

We had only been in the Jeep for about ten minutes, heading back to Veracruz, when I’d told Javier to park the car so I could have a moment. He reluctantly complied, finding an area beneath some massive trees that shook from the howling winds. Both men were staring at me and I could only look down at my hands as I rubbed them up and down against the mud on my dress, the coldness seeping into my palms. They both knew me, knew my attacks, and that alone had me screaming internally, wanting to run. I couldn’t even look at them. I couldn’t even accept the situation. Javier and Camden. The three of us having to work together, let alone sit in a Jeep together without them killing each other. And I was in the middle.

My mind raced back to our escape. My mother. Dear God, my mother. I really never thought I’d see her again, let alone at a drug lord’s party, but there was she was, serving motherfucking champagne. She was working for Travis of all people, the man who poured acid down my leg when I was just eleven years old, the same man who my mother wanted to rob that night in Mississippi. What the hell had happened to her? After everything we had gone through as a family, after all the pain I suffered, the inquests from authorities, the move to Palm Valley to stay with Uncle Jim and her eventual abandonment of me, why was she here with him now? And where was my father?

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick and debated on asking Javier. He had known this all along, knew where they were. He’d even wanted me to kill them for some sick, divine purpose from that damaged moral code of his. This whole time he knew and he was using me.

I couldn’t even be angry at him over that, though. I should have known better, I should have expected this. I was so damn angry at myself for falling for his old tricks, for slipping into a past that would have been better left buried. I hated myself for losing my faith in Camden and putting it in Javier instead, and hated myself even more for the damage I caused. That was another reason I couldn’t look at him. Every time I looked at Camden, I saw the ways he’d changed. He was stronger, tougher and more ruthless. He was also hurt, scarred deep inside by what I’d done. He now had the kind of scars that even his skilled hands couldn’t transform.

“Are you okay?” Camden asked, his voice low. My knee was touching his knee. My other knee was touching Javier’s. I could feel them on either side of me, hear their breathing, both their bodies tense and rigid as we sat there in the darkness. This was so awkward. So fucking awkward.

And from the looks of it, with Gus and my parents in the clutches of Travis Raines, my cover being blown, the three of us having to make our way through Mexico together, awkward was the least of my problems.

I nodded, still looking at my hands, even though I wasn’t okay. None of us were.

Javier sighed loudly. Something about his tone made me look over. Somehow it was easier to look at him, maybe because I didn’t feel guilt when I did.

“What?” I asked. I pressed my fingers into my thigh to keep my nerves from misfiring.

He tilted his head toward me and though the only light came from the glow of the Jeep’s dashboard and the far-off flashes of lightning in the sky, I could see the gleam in his eyes. Unreadable, as always.

“I’m just wondering how long we’re going to sit here in a fucking tropical storm,” he said simply, a false smile spread across his face. “That’s all.”

Camden sat up straighter. “At least the rain should wash all that blood off your face.”

Javier’s eyes flicked over to him. “Are you sure you want me to help you get your fat Gus back? Because I think I’m the one doing you both a favor. Aside from saving your behinds, of course. I don’t recall either of you thanking me yet.”

I exhaled through my nose. “Just give me a few minutes. I need to figure out the plan.”

Javier let out a dry laugh, rain running off the tip of his nose, and eyed me incredulously. “The plan? You’re not in charge of the plan, angel. If you want my help, then you’re doing it my way.”

“Fuck that,” Camden spat out.

I finally had to look at him. His eyes were raging beneath his glasses that reflected the dull glow from the car and he was gripping the door handle like he was about to break it in two. Oh god, I didn’t need this. But then again, it was partly my fault. Maybe I did need this.

“Camden,” I said, trying to placate him with my eyes, “please, let’s just … let’s just stay calm and think.”

“I am calm,” Javier answered as Camden opened his mouth. “I need to go find my sister, Violetta. That’s my goal first and foremost. Then I’ll help you get to Travis and Gus.”

“And my mother?” I filled in, daring him to be honest.

He gave me a short nod, though he was looking off onto the dark road. “Yes … and your mother.”

Now was the time to ask him. Better now than never.

I took in a deep breath. “Where’s my father? I didn’t see him at the party.”

He raised a brow and looked over my head at Camden. Why, I had no fucking idea. I turned to look at Camden but he was staring back at Javier like he didn’t even know who he was.

“Javier,” I repeated. “Where is my father?”

He frowned at Camden and looked back at me. His face went stony. “The man you call your father is dead.”

Every limb on me froze. My lungs sucked in warm air and raindrops.

“Dead?” I asked, feeling like I was choking.

Dead.

My father was dead?

No.