Kele looked down, not understanding the blood spreading over her tee, Trinidad’s hand fisted around the handle of a knife. Where had it come from? Her boot? Yes. Kele saw the small sleeve inside of it. Why was she doing this?
Trinidad twisted the knife sharply, then jerked it up.
Kele gasped at the intense pain, still not understanding. She tried to fight, but wasn’t able. Already she was lightheaded from loss of blood.
“I’ll take that,” Trinidad said, grabbing Kele’s assault rifle. After another forceful jab, she removed her knife.
Like Carreon, Kele fell to her knees. Tears welled in her eyes. “Jacob,” she whispered, her bloody fingers growing slack.
She’d only wanted him to love her. Was that so wrong? She tried to say his name again, but was unable.
Trinidad stepped back, not wanting to get Kele’s blood on her boots. She went to Carreon.
Blood dirtied his shirt, pants and the floor surrounding him. She stayed clear of that too.
He blinked slowly, his blue eyes dazed with pain. “Heal me.”
Trinidad regarded his belly, crimson and wet. She recalled how easily he would have traded her life to ensure Liz’s return. She didn’t move.
“Heal me,” he ordered.
Without comment, she turned her back to him. “You take one step out of here,” she said to Ernez, “and I’ll kill you.”
He stopped at the back door.
As Kele had done with her minutes before, Trinidad gestured him closer.
He held his hands in front of himself, as though that would protect him. Gone was his previous arrogance, him treating her as though she were less than scum. He pleaded, “Please don’t shoot me.”
“In the club,” she ordered, using the barrel of the assault rifle to direct him. He backed into the room, long empty of tonight’s patrons and staff. “Get three of the largest bottles of liquor,” she said from the doorway.
Hurriedly, he did as she asked.
Once he returned to the office, she said, “Splash the booze around the bodies.”
Carreon’s mouth formed the word no. Speaking appeared beyond him now, his bronze complexion pale and sickly.
Ernez did as Trinidad directed. When the place reeked of vodka and whiskey, she asked, “Where’s the stronghold?”
“Carreon’s?”
“Not any longer,” she said, then told him what to do.
By the time flames engulfed the office, destroying Carreon for good, Trinidad was already in his Escalade. She kept the assault rifle pointed at Ernez as he drove them away.
Chapter Fifteen
Carreon was gone. So was Kele.
Liz had witnessed the horror of it all, along with Zeke and Jacob. He’d restored the transmission Carreon had previously cut off. When the picture flickered onto the monitor, Kele had her arm around the young woman Carreon had threatened to kill. He was already on the floor, gravely wounded. With frightening speed, the young woman stabbed Kele without warning and for no possible reason that Liz could determine. Stunned, she’d watched Carreon’s lieutenant splashing liquor around the bodies, then setting them on fire.
Carreon hadn’t cried out. When the flames touched Kele’s foot—as they had in Zeke’s vision—she hadn’t moved.
Jacob now sat at the table, his head in his hands. Liz had no idea how long he’d been like that. Time seemed to keep slipping away from her. The other men conversed with Zeke, their voices low, trying to decide what Carreon’s death meant to their clan. Would his lieutenants scatter in fear as Liz had believed, or perhaps hoped? Or would they regroup?
During the exchange, Isabel came into the doorway. Liz noticed how Zeke tensed at the woman’s presence, as though he were afraid of her. Why? What had she threatened him with when they’d spoken?
“Is it true about Carreon?” Isabel asked Zeke.
“He’s dead,” Zeke shot back. “His body destroyed by fire. He’s beyond reanimation. You have what you want.”
She stepped into the room.
Zeke immediately went to Liz and pulled her back, away from the woman.
“What’s going on?” Liz whispered to him.
He didn’t answer. His focus remained on Isabel.
The older woman went to the computer monitor, its image frozen on the flames in the strip club’s office, the last communication sent before the fire had destroyed the lines and cut off the transmission.
“Do you want me to play it back for you?” Paul asked Isabel.
She regarded Zeke and said, “Kele’s also gone.”
Jacob made a pained sound.
“She died protecting her clan, her people,” Zeke said, fury lacing his words. “Not this stronghold. Not the damned land. People matter, nothing else. I’ll fight for my kind too, those I love. And I’ll win.”
What was he talking about? What was going on between him and Isabel? Liz glanced from Zeke to the woman.
She nodded once as though to say she’d heard or believed what he’d said, then left the room.
“What was that about?” Liz asked.
“Nothing.” Zeke hugged her hard. “Everything’s all right,” he promised, “just stay in this room. Don’t leave without me.” He watched her for a moment as though making certain she’d obey, then went back to his men.
Liz watched them as her worry moved from Isabel to Diaz. Where was he? Had the young woman and Carreon’s lieutenant seen him when they’d left the strip club? Had they taken Diaz prisoner? Was Roberto torturing him for information on this stronghold or threatening to kill Pedro if Diaz didn’t talk?
Liz covered her mouth with her hand, quieting her whimper. Zeke glanced over, checking on her. He seemed to have aged several years in the last hours. Liz wanted to tell him she was all right, at least physically, but couldn’t manage it.
She sat next to Jacob and rubbed his back. He grieved quietly over Kele, having loved her in the end even if it wasn’t in the way she’d needed.
Liz prayed Kele hadn’t suffered, that she was with her parents now. At peace and safe at last.
More time fled by. Liz had no idea how much. Men came into the room, then left, only to return later. Everyone looked bone tired, but no one slept.
Was it dawn yet?
“Hey,” Paul suddenly shouted from the hall. “They’re back and headed this way.”
Liz exchanged a look with Zeke and Jacob.
“Kele’s back?” Jacob hollered, his tone incredulous and hopeful.
“Diaz and the boy,” Paul called out.
Zeke left the room immediately, followed by several of his men. When Liz tried to follow, Ike stood in her way. “Zeke wants you to stay in here.”
“I need to heal Pedro.”
“You’re not leaving,” Ike said. He was a mountain of a man, his determination as powerful as his physical strength.
