Before I got out of the SUV, I grabbed a Glock from the glove compartment. I didn’t bother to hide it when I stepped down onto the pavement; I let the cops see my weapon hanging at my side in a clear warning.
No matter what happened next, they would not take me from my home.
My vehicle was parked several yards back from the gates, and I stuck close to it. I’d talk to the cops face-to-face, but I wasn’t stupid enough to stray from the cover of the SUV. It would serve as a shield if it came down to a shootout.
“What do you want?” My terse demand was only barely roughened by a growl.
“Raúl Guerrero?” one of them asked with a slight hitch in the middle of my name. He was the older of the two, but his age didn’t seem to have earned him much more bravery than the trembling youth at his side.
I lifted my chin, some of my panic receding in response to their obvious fear of me.
I’m not that fucked-up kid anymore. I’m not in Juárez.
I was in my house. I was behind my gates, which surrounded the multi-million-dollar property that I’d bought with blood and ruthlessness.
“You know who I am.” I spoke in my most chilling, emotionless tone.
The younger man’s pockmarked face grew craggy as his features twisted into a mask of fear. He shuddered and took a step back. His partner glowered at him in stern, silent rebuke. To the coward’s credit, he swallowed hard and returned to stand beside the older man in a show of solidarity.
“The chief of police has requested that you come in with us to answer some questions relating to a recent blog that was posted anonymously online,” he informed me. “It names you specifically in connection with some very serious crimes.”
I barked a frigid laugh. “A blog post? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“It-it’s from a credible source,” the younger man piped up. “The posts are made anonymously, but they’ve led to a handful arrests in recent weeks. Someone—or it might be several people—has access to detailed information about criminal activities throughout the country. They’re on some sort of crusade to fight back against cartel violence by exposing their crimes. It’s just a conversation!” he exclaimed hastily, melting a bit under the heat of my glower. “The chief just wants to ask you a few questions. He has to be seen doing something, since the blog has proven to provide solid information in the past.”
“We’re here as a courtesy,” the other officer clarified. “You’re not under arrest.”
Despite his reassurance, the unspoken yet hung in the air between us.
“What, exactly, am I being accused of?”
They glanced at each other, and the more mature officer seemed to gather courage from the younger man’s evident fear.
“Kidnapping, human trafficking, and drug trafficking. Those are just allegations, not charges,” he rushed to add, as though that would appease me.
“Is that all? That’s your credible information? Just a list of allegations?”
The man licked his lips nervously. “No, ah… It’s all written up in an extremely detailed account: a story about a woman who’s allegedly being held on your property against her will. Someone named Marisol Cortés.”
All my muscled locked up tight. Even my heart stopped beating.
How could they possibly know her name? How could her story end up on some vigilante crusader’s anonymous blog? Marisol didn’t have access to the internet. And no one knew—
Isabel.
“Get the fuck off my property.” I barely managed to keep my voice lower than a roar.
The younger man cringed back, but his partner managed to stutter. “We-we have orders. You need to come with us. It’s just a few questions, that’s all. It’s simply a matter of—”
I loaded a bullet into the chamber of my Glock. “That is your only warning. Leave.”
Both officers blanched, and their survival instincts sent them scurrying back to their car. I watched them drive away, until their vehicle disappeared around a bend in the road.
Once they were out of sight, my ingrained, fucked-up emotions when it came to cops faded just enough to make room in my head for a fresh surge of rage. It burst through my chest, a black beast with lethal claws. They sank deep into my heart, tearing it asunder.
A purely animal howl reverberated through the wilderness that surrounded my property, shocking every creature within a mile into terrified, cautionary silence.
Marisol had told Isabel everything. She’d plied me with her sweet smiles and supportive reassurances that she would make my excuses for me. She’d made sure I wouldn’t disturb her while she spilled her secrets to Isabel; while she spilled my secrets.
The instant I’d slipped up and given her an opportunity to escape me, she’d betrayed me again.
This time, it was so much more agonizing than when she’d colluded with Daniel and left me for dead. I’d easily survived his pathetic attempt to take over the cartel.