I felt sweat break out of every single one of my goddamn pores at his blasé remark. Even though I knew why, I had to ask anyway. “Why are you here?”
“Officially, to kill Lucie. Unofficially? I never did have a problem with you guys. Bomber was a prick, but I knew everyone was pretty decent. Carlos wants his revenge, however, and I need to give it to him.”
I didn’t reach for my gun, didn’t even settle my hand on my knife. Ramon, if he’d wanted, could have snuck into the compound and found a way to get to Lucie. He hadn’t. For a reason.
“How do you want to do this?”
“Carlos likes to collect his enemy’s pinkie finger. If I show him a burial site, as well as a picture of her body, that should be enough to convince him of proof of death.”
My nostrils flared. “This a joke?”
“No. I wish it was,” he replied with a grunt. “Fucking freak with his pinkie fingers.” He reached up and rubbed his temple. “I know it’s not ideal, but let’s be grateful he doesn’t collect hands. The sick fuck is weird enough to graduate to that at some point.
“But look, she can live without a pinkie finger, Wolfe. Some makeup, false blood…” He shrugged. “Isn’t the first time I’ve staged a crime scene.”
“And when she’s spotted in town? When she goes back to living her life?” Flame growled. “He’ll be back.”
Ramon shrugged. “Not saying it’s a perfect solution, but it’s the only option we got if you don’t want her dead. If we do this, it gets the cartel off your back and Carlos off mine.”
I blinked at him. “Why? This doesn’t make any sense.”
Ramon gritted his teeth. “Nothing about this fucked up situation does, but while Bomber is dead and these threats to Aaron should be too, someone picked up the phone and contacted me today.” He grabbed his cell, tapped the screen a few times, and shoved it across the desk to me. “Someone’s following him.”
I scrolled through the images and saw that Aaron was being followed. It wasn’t a lie. There were different camera angles, shots at multiple locations.
My nostrils flared as I held it out to Flame. “Look at this fucked up shit.”
Flame’s lighter hissed as he got to his feet and headed over to the desk. When he reached for the phone, his brow furrowed as he scrolled through the photos too. “I’ll deal with it.”
I dipped my chin at him as he left.
“Deal with what?” Ramon demanded, surging forward as the door slammed closed behind my brother.
“The motherfucker who’s threatening one of our own. Aaron might be your son, but he’s a Rebel first. No one threatens him.” My jaw clenched. “No one.”
Ramon’s head tilted to the side. “You’ll keep him safe?”
“You have no reason to believe me when the old Prez was behind this, but yeah, I’ll keep him safe.”
“You’ll lose your leverage against me with Lucie,” he pointed out.
I shook my head, and cut Axe a look. Within seconds, Ramon’s voice flooded the office. The recording of his admission that he thought Carlos Rodriguez, the head of the Guerrera Cartel, was a ‘psycho’ and how he’d been holding out on Lucie’s location to him for years.
Ramon rolled his eyes. “Rookie mistake on my part,” he admitted.
Shrugging, I told him, “I’d prefer to hold this against you than your boy, that’s all.”
Though I sensed Ramon was pissed, it was aimed more at himself than me. He dropped into his seat and slunk down. “Now that you mention it, I’d prefer that too.” He rubbed his chin. “But even if you hold this against me, I can’t save Lucie’s ass. Rodriguez wants blood. He always does.”
“She never took the drugs, man,” Dagger told him, coming as close to pleading as I’d ever heard him.
“Doesn’t matter. Your father said she did. Sold her down the line to Carlos to stop any blowback on the MC. Carlos never forgives and he never forgets.”
“What are his links in the area?” I questioned, starting to think about semantics here.
“Limited. He changed delivery routes when you guys let him down.” He dragged his hand over his jaw.
“How did he find out she was here?”
“Got a tip.”
“So, someone’s watching?” I demanded, my heart starting to pound.
“I think so.”
I cut Axe and Dagger a look as terror surged in my veins. “Where’s she supposed to go after her ‘murder?’”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. Carlos is in the middle of