Amara (Reapers MC Book 12) Read online

  There’s only one reason a man like that is successful in keeping their power— he strikes so much fear into everyone under his reign that they never doubt him. They never have the courage to rise up against him.

  My familia does things differently. While my father isn’t a man to fuck with, he will instill fear and respect into his subjects. My father is the leader of the Mexican Cartel, however, everyone believes our cousin Eduardo Lopez is running things while my father runs for governor of Mexico City. His goal is to become the President of Mexico and after his term is up, put someone within the Cartel in higher positions of the government. It’s a good plan considering it’ll take many of our problems away.

  My cousins, Eduardo, Juan and Daniel as well as myself are my father’s highest level Capos. We have other Capos in charge of other territories of Mexico, however we don’t hold the same amount of trust in them. We make up the inner circle so to speak. My father and Eduardo have been doing a great job at their charade, but all good things must come to an end eventually.

  “Alright, but I do come to see you too. I may live in Las Vegas but it doesn’t mean I can frolic around and do whatever I want. I work, and I work hard.” Gia explains. She must know how proud I am of her for paving her own way in life. She didn’t take a hand out from our father, when most mafia princesas would.

  “I know you do, Gia. I know.” I confess, wrapping my arms around the bull-headed brat. I hold her close, showing her some sort of affection. As children we hardly got a hug or a kiss. I can’t even count the times our parents expressed their love to us, because there weren’t any.

  “I don’t complain about the amount I work very often, but I’m growing so tired of the way I’ve lived my life. I’m twenty-eight and . . . I’m nowhere near anyone else my age.” She explains, speaking into my chest.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as I break our embrace and take a seat on one of the lounge chairs. Gia takes a seat in the one beside me.

  “Most women my age are finding their prince charming, having babies, doing all of that domestic shit.”

  I crane my neck, knowing I’ve had this conversation with her at least once before. “Gia,” I pause for a moment, needing to think of the right way to say this. Otherwise I’ll come off as a dick. “You aren’t a normal woman, and you don’t live an ordinary life. You’re a mafia princesa. You’re the daughter of Francisco Lopez, ruler of the Mexican Cartel. Hell, you own a company that literally sells sex.”

  “We don’t sell sex.” Again, she shuts me down. She can keep saying she doesn’t, but we all know the truth.

  I pick up the glass of tequila I set on the table between the chairs a while ago. The heat from this day has melted the ice and I’m positive my drink is now a watered down version of the strong liquor I prefer. After looking at it for a moment, I decide to down the rest of the drink. I’m not a man who has many pet peeves, but watered down alcohol is one of them. “You do, Gia. You own clubs where your members come to have sex. You have that weird online chat platform, and what’s the other thing you offer . . . rent-a-girlfriend?” Now I’m enjoying fucking with her, especially as her face flushes bright red like our mother’s did when she was alive.

  “It’s . . . dios mio! You’re doing this on purpose. Aren’t you? Culo!” She stands up suddenly and splashes her drink straight in my face.

  I blink a couple of times, taken aback, but I have the perfect comment to throw her over the edge. “Watching telenovelas to get ideas again?”

  As dramatically as I saw in my head she opens her mouth widely, looking as pissed as a raging bull. “You are just as bad as father! I don’t even know why I try with you!”

  She’s barely finished berating me when my alarm system beeps, signaling someone’s just walked onto my property. Gia draws her eyes together. “Are you expecting someone?”

  Sliding my arm from under my chair, I pull out my custom made gold plated Colt and pull back my safety. I shake my head, while instructing her. “No, only you. There’s another hidden behind the plant. Go fetch it.”

  Gia heads over to the corner of the patio and shifts it slightly, seeing my compartment I had custom built into the concrete and looks back to me. “0503,” I reply back so she can input the code.

  “Aw, my birthday.” Gia smirks, entering the number and pulls out a Mexican Eagle.

  Shuffling sounds come from downstairs and I motion with my hands for her to follow me. I mouth, without making a sound. “Stay quiet, and don’t say a word. Follow me, but stay behind me.”

  Gia nods, showing me she understands.

  Pushing open the door that leads from the patio into the house, I enter my home and look from left to right. My home is mainly open concept, but I don’t see anyone in my sights. Another sound coming from downstairs tells me whomever is here is below us. I swear and motion with my hand for us to move forward and Gia is right behind me as we walk to the top of the stairs and look downward.

  “Mierda! I thought he would be here. Shit. He must’ve gone to the festival already.” I know the voice. It’s Gerardo, one of my Tenientes. He sounds very nervous, which makes me feel like I need to see what the fuck is going on.

  “I was going to the festival, but Gia and I got to chatting.” I state, making my presence clear, holding my gun to my side. I head downstairs but know my sister has my back. Hell, we were taught this shit when we were six years old.

  The first thing I set my eyes on is a circular pattern in different variations of red. But the victim isn’t Gerardo. No, it’s my cousin Juan.

  “What the fuck happened?!” I ask walking toward him. I set my gun on the table and see his wound is still bleeding a good bit. Out of instinct I take off my shirt and press it against his wound. Even though my cousin screams in pain, I can’t stop. If I do, he could die. He could die now. “Gia call Lucinda. We need to see if she has an associate nearby. Tell her we’ll pay her triple!” I order out. Gia mumbles something in reply, but I’m too focused on Gerardo and Juan.

  “We were in the city. It . . . it all happened so quickly,” Gerardo stammers out.

  Juan begins to cough. It sounds like he’s choking and blood starts to come from his mouth, “C-call Eduardo. T-tell him A-amara is i-in Tamaulipas. H-he needs to g-get there b-before s-she’s k-killed.”

  “Closest doc is ten minutes out,” Gia says in the background. Fuck. He doesn’t have ten minutes. I don’t even know if he has ten seconds.

  “Why? Who is Amara?”

  “R-reapers girl. Abducted l-last y-year and I f-found her. My c-contact f-flipped on m-me. The g-girl. You must get t-the girl.” Juan pleads with bloodshot eyes, continuing to choke on his own blood.

  “Who did this to you? Juan! Tell me!” I cry out, watching the life slowly fading from him.

  “G-get the g-girl. F-flag m-man, A-american. G-get her. She has a f-familia like y-yours, Dante. Give her f-familia p-peace.”

  “Fuck the girl! Who did this to you?!” I roar, needing the name of whoever dared to harm my cousin.

  “Tell M-margarita I l-love her,” My cousin says looking at me but suddenly his stare goes blank and I know he’s gone.

  “Dios mio, Juan.” Gia sobs in the background, the shock finally going away.

  “I’m sorry, Dante. I tried to get him here sooner, but he wanted to get the information about Amara.” Gerardo explains.

  “Who the fuck is Amara and why does she matter so much!?” I snap, slamming my fist into my glass table in the dining room so hard it breaks from the impact.

  “She is a woman who’s been missing for about a year, she’s part of our allies in Nevada. The Reapers MC. He found the man who’s been holding her, but the things he said to you don’t make much sense to me.”

  “Gia, call Eduardo. Tell him Amara is with the flag man, who’s American in Tamaulipas. See if that makes sense to him.” After a few moments of silence I turn to my sister who’s shaking, focusing in on our dead cousin.

  I approach her and
grab her hands, looking into her dark eyes. “Gia. You need to call Eduardo. If Juan is right, he died for something and we must find the girl. I won’t have his death mean nothing.”

  I’ll find the man or woman who did this to my cousin, and I’ll rip their fucking throat out the second I find them. To us familia is more important than anything else.

  Chapter Two

  “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living and above all, those who live without love.”

  ~ Pop Sugar

  Dante

  “How are we to find one woman in all of Tamaulipas?” My sister asks, obviously still reeling from the shock of what just happened.

  It’s been a little over three hours and our father will be arriving at any given moment. I called him while Gia was on the phone with Eduardo. I hate how she had to give him such horrible news over the phone, but we weren’t going to wait. At the same time, I personally called our father and gave him the news. He was determined to come here and speak to me directly about the matter, so we’ve been waiting.

  In the meantime, we’ve had a cleanup crew come to my home and take Juan’s body. They’ll take him to a funeral home owned by a family friend, the Cortézes. They’ve been loyal to the Lopez family for many years. The crew not only takes bodies but will clean the area in which they died as well, scraping up every bit of blood they can find. Typically, we only use them after we’ve gone after someone and don’t want their body found. The Cortézes provide a service for us where they burn our enemies’ bodies in their cremator.

  It takes me a little longer than I want to muster up a reply for my sister, however it is one I believe deep in my bones. “It doesn’t matter. We just will. Our family has allies and soldiers everywhere. We may have only a little bit of information, but we have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Gia nods, wiping her tears away. My sister is much like a crocodile, very strong and she doesn’t show emotion often. One thing that always gets a reaction out of her, though . . . well, it’s death. “I don’t want our cousin’s death to be in vain.”

  “It won’t ever be. We’ll find this girl he was so determined to free, and we’ll get her out of this man’s clutches because that was Juan’s last wish.”

  Gia nods her head while her lip trembles. “Someone will have to call Margarita.”

  I shake my head, “No. We owe her more than that. We will visit her tomorrow.”

  “We can’t tell her tonight. She deserves one more night of peace before her entire world is shattered.” Gia speaks up.

  “Yes, and we will go visit her tomorrow and tell her.” I declare. Margarita lives in their family home. It’s about a two-hour drive from us in Camargo. Just as I finish telling her the plan, the code to my front door is being input. I only know it’s the correct code because my security system would’ve gone off if not. This only means one thing. Our father is here.

  Gia looks back in the direction of the door and my assumption is right. Our father is here, along with his security team. “Ah, mija.” He immediately goes up to Gia and pulls her into his arms.

  “I can’t believe this. We’ve been so lucky until today, Papá. So lucky. How did this even happen?” Gia asks, wondering the same questions we all are.

  “It doesn’t matter how. The only thing that does matter is how we’re going to deal with it.” I state clear enough that everyone in my home can hear me. I’m fucking furious. While I’ve been angry many times before, I don’t know that the rage has ever risen this high. I’m so fucking angry because my cousin died for a stranger.

  “Your brother is partially correct. It’s best you remember who is the one in charge here, mijo. We know why your cousin accepted his fate, and now it’s our job to find Amara Raines.” He releases my sister and she goes further into the kitchen and sits on one of the many barstools. Father follows her lead, and I go around to the wine fridge because I need a fucking drink.

  Did he really just say Raines? For a moment I think he must be mistaken, that he can’t possibly be talking about the same Raines family who was tied to his predecessor, Rafael Ramírez.

  I gather my thoughts while I fix myself a drink, preferring white wine after this day. I’ve had enough hard liquor. Now it’s time to go to work. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet.” Father says, obviously speaking to me.

  “Huh? What is Dante supposed to ask you?” Gia questions.

  I turn back around to face my father and look at him. “She’s related to Rafael, isn’t she?”

  Our eyes don’t waver from the other. He knew I’d be concerned about this, especially when so many of our people have died purely from our goal to have my father in charge of the Cartel. Getting here wasn’t a bloodless journey.

  “Yes.”

  Unable to control my wrath, I pick up the crystal vase on the side of the island and throw it at the floor. “Another one of us died at his hands! Are you fucking kidding me?! When will this stop, hmm?”

  Gia’s so startled she stammers backward into one of our father’s security team members. Our father isn’t happy about my sudden show of emotion and makes his feelings known. “I know you are a passionate one, mijo. But this? Mmm, no. This is more Javi’s style.” Javi, my younger brother. One who’s been in and out of prison since he was eighteen. He’ll be getting released in a couple months as long as he doesn’t do something stupid again.

  “I’m beyond furious. Why are we showing this woman mercy? Her family has tortured our glorious country for far too long, father. I don’t understand this.”

  My father stays quiet for a few moments and blinks before he speaks. “Dante, I can’t judge this girl for the actions of her blood. However, I will judge her for her own. She has done many things which have aided us in our fight. Her, as well as her brother, Damon, who’s the President of the Reapers MC Las Vegas charter. They’ve done nothing but show their loyalty to us . . . especially when it comes to a certain member of their family. You know her better as the Pharaoh.”

  My eyes widen before I can fully process what he’s just said. “The Pharaoh is one of the Raines’?” Gia stammers out, completely caught off guard.

  The Pharaoh is the ringleader of a private gang, or maybe it’s an organization, called the Jackals. They’re sort of a vigilante group who takes actions into their own hands.

  “Rose Raines is the Pharaoh.”

  “Holy shit,” Gia mutters in amazement.

  “So, we will do what we can to get her sister back. Is that understood? We owe at least that much to her. Now, tell me what Juan said to you. We’ll need to act quickly and hope we can figure something out. We have so much land to cover.”

  I nod, “Yes, we do. Gia and I will be taking a visit to Margarita tomorrow to let her know about Juan’s fate.”

  “Thank you, but I’m going to have Javi go with your sister.”

  “Javi? Isn’t he in prison?”

  “No, he was released early for good behavior.”

  I don’t hold back my laughter, “That’s a first.”

  “Gia, Javi will go with you tomorrow. Dante, Javi will be coming here to stay with your sister for a few days while she’s visiting. I hate to ask you to do this, but I need you to go to Tamaulipas with the rest of the men. We must find the girl.”

  I nod, accepting the order he’s given me. “How long has she been missing?” I ask out of curiosity.

  “Over a year, which is why this is so important.”

  “Alright. I’ll be ready to leave whenever you are.”

  “Great. Pack a bag, you’ll be on a flight at dawn.”

  Chapter Three

  “I have worn nothing but blood and death for years. I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me. I am not a little girl anymore who’s dazzled by your magic.”

  ~ Unknown

  Amara

  Beads of sweat slide down the side of my face, even though the old-fashioned thermometer on the wall says it’s barely seventy-five degrees out. Barely any light com
es in through the slits on this adobe style storage shed. The windows are simply cinderblock sized cutouts a foot below the ceiling. They have thin pieces of wood going straight down through them, reminding me of bars on a jail cell.

  I inhale deeply and look around, seeing how the sun is starting to go down. It must be passed six, but not too far passed that time. From what I can tell I’m getting a little over twelve hours of direct sunlight in this piece of shit structure.

  Lucien hasn’t come to give me my dinner as of yet like he typically does. I wonder if something has happened. He’s never been late. Not once in the entire year I’ve been here. Fuck. It’s been over a year at this point. I rub my hand over my forehead to wipe the sweat away and adjust my back against the wall of the iron cage he has me in. That’s right, I’m in a metal cage, like a fucking animal.

  He has about four feet of walking area around the cage to do whatever he’d like or access me at any angle he’d prefer. During the first few weeks I was here he preferred to douse me with water and then poke me with a cattle prod. A while after that his kick was punching me in the face, gut, or arms. But as with everything he does he grew bored of it.

  There was a time where he forgot to lock the door to my cage. It was maybe six months after we arrived here . . . wherever here is. I only know we’re in Mexico based on what I had seen when he had brought me to this place. I was able to get out of the shed, but he caught me after I had run maybe a mile. He cut the bottom of my feet, sliced them as much as he could until I couldn’t even walk. It took weeks for my feet to heal, for me not to feel one bit of pain. Even now, I still have stinging pains shooting through the bottom of my feet to the back of my ankles.

  A bucket sits over in the far-left corner. It’s the only type of toilet I’ll ever get. Meanwhile on the far-right corner I have old animal feed sacks. They’re woven, itchy as hell, but it’s the only thing keeping me from laying down on the dirt. If Lucien’s feeling gracious, he’ll give me a bale of straw to disperse throughout the cell, offering some sort of texture. It doesn’t get cold here in Mexico, but it has gotten chilly on occasion. One night I remember I had to burrow myself under the straw just to refrain from shaking.