me to put my gun down. He aimed his voice at the two guards who were prepared to send me to hell.
“Men, lower your weapons. Mrs. Vallin and I need to have a serious discussion.”
The men stupidly lowered their weapons, but I wasn’t lowering mine. If it was my time to die, some fucking body was coming with me.
“Mecca, please.”
“Please what? You sent someone to kill me, and you expect me to listen to what you have to say?”
“Did we have someone watching you? Yes. But, I can assure you, we had nothing to do with yours or your husband’s ambush, or the set up with the Haitians.”
I laughed. “And you happen to know about all three events off a lucky guess? Do I look like Willy fucking foo-foo? Someone is trying to kill me, and you expect me to let it happen without fighting?”
“Put the gun away so we can talk this out without all this tension. You have known me since you were a young girl. You, of all people, should know that if the cartel or I wanted you dead, you would be. There wouldn’t be a trace of you left to be found.”
He had a good point and the statement caused one of my brows to lift. No matter how badass I thought I was, if they wanted me dead, I probably would be.
I lowered my weapon but didn’t tuck it away, settling for aiming it at the floor. The action lowered the heightened tension in the air, but we all remained amped as our harsh breaths livened up the space. Corvel lifted his phone to show me that it wasn’t a gun.
“I’m going to make a phone call. We can’t afford to let another incident like this happen. We especially can’t afford to call attention to ourselves by having public shootouts and ambushes.
“Hello,” he said into the phone, his face set in anger. “You need to get over here now. This has gone too damn far. You tell her today, or I will.” He clicked off and set his strained gaze on me.
“Now, we wait. Have a seat. Please.”
I shook my head. I was not about to sit down. HB and I were fine standing where we were and waiting, for what, I could only imagine was my maker.
Had Corvel called his death squad?
36
Mecca
My leg muscles jumped as my nerves grated across each other, chipping off more of my anger so that my mind could bring in clearer thoughts. I’d finally decided to take the seat Corvel had offered after he had gotten up and fixed himself a second drink. The guards appeared bored out of their minds, not paying me any attention anymore.
Had I just drawn a weapon on the number two man in one of the deadliest cartels in the country? There was no coming back from an action like that, and he was more than likely considering how I would die.
A deep squint furrowed my forehead when I realized that Corvel had only appeared upset when he was on the phone. He was too cool as he continued to take sips from his drink, swirling it around the glass as he relaxed into his expensive couch. What the hell were we waiting for?
When the rotors of a helicopter sounded fifteen tense minutes later, I prayed it was one of the workers watching television. However, the sound was distinct and hard to mistake for anything else.
Who had he called? Was it his kill specialists, the ones that did high-level murders for him? Were they going to torture me first?
It had taken a while to soak in that the Black Saints, the Vallin name, and the syndicate made me a triple threat and a high-value target. Therefore, taking me out would be a top-level order to be carried out by the organization’s best.
The bold actions I had taken with Corvel was punishable by death, but they didn’t need to bring in anyone special on my account. One or two to the head was perfectly fine with me as I preferred to have my lights turned out quickly so I didn’t have to sit and agonize over the things I would have done differently. I didn’t want to wait in my misery and wish for more time with Arjen or pray to see Desiree one last time.
“Who is that?” I aimed a finger at the ceiling as it sounded like the helicopter was lifting off after dropping its passenger.
“Silvia Cardenas,” Corvel answered nonchalantly like he