“You had guys watching me? Sent them to kill me? I had convinced myself it was a setup, someone trying to turn me against you.”
“Mecca, please, put the gun away.”
His hands were lifted, gesturing in a calm manner for me to lower the gun.
“Are you actually suggesting I put my gun away so you can accomplish your task of killing me? Why did you let me keep it in the first place if you’re planning to get rid of me?”
The men advanced, forcing me to turn and aim at them as my gun swept left to right between the two.
“Stay the fuck back!” I yelled.
“Mecca, listen, please.” Corvel had switched to Spanish.
Cautious steps took me backwards until the only full wall was at my back, and I had a view of all three men. Corvel stood with his hands in a pleading position, begging 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?