Scar Read online

  “To Mexico,” Castillo mutters.

  I nod my head once in understanding. My insides turn cold and everything in me tightens. I decide right here to make it my mission to do whatever I have to do in order to stay alive. I will push down all my feelings, my beliefs, my morals, and do what it takes to make my father pay for this. The fairy-tale life I was living shattered right before my eyes. I am no longer a princess waiting for my prince charming to come along and save me. I make myself a promise that I will do whatever it takes to prove to my father that I’m not only strong enough, but smart enough to protect the empire he’s built. I have to play his game, and when he least expects it, I’ll show him that I’m the motherfucking princess that’s going to save herself. When I’m done with him, he’ll know he never needed a son. I’m going to show him that I’m not less because I’m a woman. My father may think he made another soldier…but no, he made a weapon. A weapon who is out for revenge.

  Now - Trent

  The years I’d been waiting for this moment, all the anger, the pain and the betrayal building within me, was rippling under my skin as I stared at her. Scarlet Reyes. The girl who had ripped out my heart and shredded it underneath her motorcycle boot before disappearing from my life and ruining my future, sits in the chair directly across from me. Her once pristine, white suit, now covered in blood spatter and gore. Her sleeked-back ponytail is messy, creating a halo of escaped hair around her face, and her eyes blaze into mine from where she sits in the interview room of our private Las Vegas police station. After six years, I have her in my territory, under my rule, her life and freedom dependent on me.

  My partner, Jay McCall, and I had planned for her father, Raul Alverez, to be at the meeting spot where our team could finally bust the operation he’d been running for decades. The operation he’d been handing over to Scarlet in the past few years in order to build her up to take his place. My first run in with Alverez occurred my senior year of high school when I helped McCall with a sting operation, involving batches of drugs that were killing students in the neighboring towns. I was eighteen and terrified, knowing that these drugs and the dirty money were being funneled through the Motocross races there. McCall asked me to pretend to be looking for drugs before making his bust. I hadn’t known at the time that, that one incident would forever paint a target on my back until I could finally eliminate the source. Today in some Las Vegas hotel parking ramp, Raul finally met the end he was destined to have. And the crew of drug addicts he hired have also paid with their lives for killing my friend, Blake Palmer.

  I twist the pen in my fingers, letting it tap the paper lightly, each stroke in time with the small tic in Scarlet’s jaw. I wonder if she even knows how guilty she is for Blake’s death. It hasn’t been more than a year and the pain is still there when I think about him.

  “When is McCall coming back?” she asks, her voice edged in irritation. It’s been almost six hours of our shared silence. I smirk, my eyes eating up the way she squirms.

  “He’ll get here when he’s done cleaning up the mess you made,” I answer, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms across my chest.

  Her head turns to the side, and her jaw clenches even harder, her body sitting up straight. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Princess.” I lean forward, her words plaguing me. After everything, she still can’t admit that she’s wrong or account for all the lives her family have ruined along the way. “I know about every move you and daddy dearest have been making. Every deal. Every in with another criminal organization, every innocent person who’s lost their life at your hands.” I get up quickly, catching her attention, her chest rapidly rising.

  “Look at that wall.” I point to the other end of the room where multiple photos are lined up. Each labeled with a name, date of birth and date of death. In the center, the largest picture, is Blake. “That guy right there was my friend. He was one of the good ones. A guy making his way up from the bottom and he would have been a damn fine cop if it hadn’t been for your family and that shit excuse of a crew you threw together to launder drugs from the hotel.” My hands tighten into fists. It takes everything I have inside me not to launch myself over the table, wrap my hands around her delicate throat, and press her face to each and every picture, so I can force her to see the lives she’s not only ruined, but taken away from their loved ones.

  Scarlet’s face stays passive, and if I didn’t know her as well as I do, I would have missed the flash of remorse in those black depths. “I need to talk to Jay,” she tells me again, her voice thick with her accent, another sign that she’s not completely emotionless. Everything must just be buried deep inside the monster she’s become.

  My fingers flex at my sides. I don’t want to look at her. It makes my insides turn to be in the same room as her, yet I can’t help but be morbidly interested to know if I could bend her to my will. The clock in the room is ticking down the time I have left alone with her before McCall shows up. My irritation grows knowing he has some deal already worked out with her. “Trent,” her voice is laced with demand and frustration. Must really suck to sit on the wrong side of the table for once.

  Scoffing, I turn back toward the board, my eyes connecting to the indigo blue in the picture before me, content to ignore her until she can say something useful. Guilt burrows into my gut the more I stare at it, before anger bubbles to the surface, infusing the two emotions until my lungs squeeze in my chest and red clouds my vision. Blake should not be dead. I should not be here, and it’s all because of Scarlet.

  A tap on the door echoes in the room before Jay enters and shuts the door behind him. I feel his gaze land on me briefly. “Reyes,” he says. I can hear the tiredness in voice.

  “Did you get her back safely?” I ask, referring to his girlfriend, Blaise Palmer, Blake’s younger sister, and he nods. “At least you did one thing right today.”

  Jay sighs and cuts his gaze to mine. His eyes say shut the fuck up, while mine tell him to eat shit. Jay may be my partner per se, but he’s also the reason I can’t have what I want most-- for Scarlet Reyes to pay for everything she’s done. Jay turns back to Scarlet, who immediately relaxes now that he’s here. “I’m sorry to have to tell you, but your father did not make it out of surgery.”

  “I didn’t expect that he would,” Scarlet replies, the coldness in her voice drawing my attention back to her. Her face is passive, as if the news of the bastard’s death doesn’t bother her, or more like she’s relieved. I scoff; she’s probably relieved he’s out of the way so she can takeover. Too bad for her, I now stand in the way of her ascension to the throne.

  “It changes things,” Jay warns her, sitting down across from her at the table.

  “I’d say things changed the minute Robocop, here, slapped cuffs on me and I had to walk out of my hotel parking garage for everyone to see,” she reports, her hot gaze landing on me.

  I’m about to open my mouth when Jay interrupts, “We have nothing concrete to hold you on. If you don’t wish to make a statement, you’re free to leave, Ms. Reyes.”

  “Like Fuck!” I turn to face both of them, the anger I’d been holding onto by a thread finally snapping. “It was a clean arrest and plenty of evidence. Unless you feel like sharing with the rest of the class while you are so willing to let a drug dealing, gun running, criminal walk, then she stays!”

  To her credit, Scarlet doesn’t flinch. Jay, however, looks like he’s about to combust. They lock gazes and seem to have an entire conversation with their eyes before Jay is up out of his seat and hauling me out the door.

  “Get off, fucker!” I use all my strength to push him back, before landing a blow to his jaw. Gasps sound behind me, and the room freezes.

  “Can we not do this here.” Jay steps back, hand cupping his jaw while he moves it side to side.

  “You’re going to let her go,” I make the statement. “Where’s your fucking loyalty, man? What about Blake? I finally arrest
his killer and you want to let her walk, why? What could be so important that you’re willing to risk her getting away?”

  “Again,” his gaze darts around us, “Can we not do this here?” Grabbing my arm, he forces me back into the room.

  Scarlet’s head snaps up again, her eyes zoning in on the red mark quickly forming on his cheek. “Jay,” she says, almost as if she’s trying to warn him.

  “You can go, Ms. Reyes,” he tells her, moving to unlock the cuffs before tossing them my way. The metal hits my chest and clatters to the ground at my feet. Scarlet doesn’t meet my hostile glare as she darts out of the room, the door closing behind her.

  “Nice,” I say, “Blake would be so proud.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Jay turns toward the board, his hands running through his hair. “I shouldn’t even have to be here right now. I have my woman, who’s going through her own trauma, waiting on me, and I have to sit here and listen to you be an asshole who can’t take direction. I told you the score before we even came back to Las Vegas!”

  “You didn’t tell me shit!” I yell, my hands flinging out at my sides. “You said they would be here. You said we were making a move, and that the case was moving forward!”

  “It is!” Jay hollers back. “If you could take your head out of your ass for two seconds, you’d see the whole picture. We need her to get to the main source. Then we can end them all, and whether you like it or not, we need Scarlet to end this.”

  “She needs to pay,” I remind him, only this time, I just don’t mean because of Blake. My whole life, my future went up in flames because of this woman. Being a cop, living an undercover life is what I do to make ends meet. The only job I could get after she set me up to take the fall on a drug raid. I only walked out of the situation alive because Jay had been there. Both times.

  Jay sighs, his head tipping back. “Once this is over, you get to decide what happens. You made the arrest. But right now, she’s under my protection, and she’s working both sides while going after the source.”

  I want to shake my head in denial. My fingers are already balling into fists and I know they are either going into Jay’s face or the wall if I don’t get out of here. I need air. I need peace, with only the sounds of engines and the crowd to calm the intense rage growing inside of me. I brush past Jay on my way out. I am sick of his shit and fed up with the lies. Everyone lies to gain something around here and secrets and lies...that shit is what gets people killed.

  Scarlet

  I knew there was going to be blowback after this set-up. Losing my father, I had prepared for. In the end, the man got what he deserved. A bullet is always destined for the ones who seek to control it. Raul Alverez may have been my father by blood, but he was also a greedy, manipulative bastard who thought he could avoid death and was above the law. With a few quick pulls of the trigger, he was dead and I was free. Well, as free as I can be under the deal I have with Jay McCall. A deal that is already tearing me apart on the inside.

  Against my better judgment, I drive out of Vegas and head toward the desert to face my demon head on. The glow from across the top of the sand intensifies the closer to the track that I get. Following the crowd, I park as close as possible before stepping out of the car toward the noise. Jay told me where to find Trent, but I wasn’t ready to see him just yet. The nostalgia from the smell of fuel fumes permeates the air and threatens to take me back to a time where the sound of the engines roaring and the crowd cheering gave me a thrill. I can close my eyes and still see the many arenas and outdoor events I went to the year I followed Trent on the road. Back when he didn’t hate me and I hadn’t betrayed him.

  My black Doc Martin’s kick up sand and gravel as I follow the trail that leads deeper into the chaos. People are crowded around cars, bikes, and jacked-up trucks. The haze of dirt, exhaust and marijuana is thick in the air, yet no one seems bothered by it. A DJ set up off to the side is blasting Blackbears’s “Hot Girl Bummer” as I make my way into the sea of people. Sticky bodies brush against my arms that are half-covered in my leather jacket, until I get to my destination. A chain-link fence lines the spectator area, holding the crowd back, something I’m surprised Trent has even invested in. The fence offers protection and these days he seems as if he could care less if a whole bike or car parts were to come barreling at the crowd. The first gust of wind that comes after the vehicles race by tosses my long dark hair around in a swirl. My eyes eat up their bumpers and tail lights as they drive past. Old flames of adrenaline spike in my blood stream, flaring to life, and bringing a ghost of a smile to my lips. I used to love this.

  The vehicles race out of sight and around a point where they seem to disappear for a few seconds. My gaze lands there and lifts to the cliff above, where a lone figure leans against the boulders. The Point. Exactly where Jay said he would be. My chest clenches. I start toward that end of the track, right as the vehicles reach the finish line and most of the crowd erupts in cheers. I don’t stop to celebrate, just keep walking toward the man who holds my life in his hands. Jay’s warning from earlier is fresh in my mind and I know I need to find a way for Trent and I to coexist peacefully until my work is done.

  I manage to find the worn path through the tall grass and keep my gaze on my destination, ignoring the way my throat grows thick. Everything is too much, and at the same time, I know we haven’t even scratched the surface of the mess between us. I keep my footsteps light the closer I get. Trent’s back goes rigid when I reach the top, and I know he’s aware it’s me. My eyes rake over the old and worn black and red racing jacket that’s stretched tightly across his broad shoulders and back, down to the destroyed denim that hugs his backside and muscular legs, before dropping to the black boots on his feet so similar to my own. My heart leaps in my chest painfully. He’s a dream to look at. A beautiful nightmare from my past that I need to confront to save my life.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mutters, turning to face me. A frown tugs his lips down, the cigarette between them glows against the darkness, and his eyes burn with disgust. “Did your master send you here to be a good little lap dog?”

  My brow rises, spine straightening. “Don’t you mean his good little bitch?”

  His head tilts to the side. “Your words.”

  I shake my head. “You should know more than anyone I’m not the type of girl to be bossed around.”

  “No, just good at wielding a knife to the back,” he bites back and I’m half-tempted to smirk out of habit.

  My eyes glance back to the track, while I ignore the dig he got in. My mind shuffles through all the things I should say and the many ways I’m supposed to make sure he shows up to Jay’s briefing tomorrow, only I can’t get past the questions that’s been plaguing me since I saw him again.

  I clap my hands together. “As much as I enjoy this melodrama, I think it’s clear to see you don’t exactly hate me as much as you wish you did.”

  His brow rises. “As intriguing as that statement is, I don’t really care to keep sharing the same air. So…” He motions from me to the bottom of the hill, before turning back to the edge where the action is.

  “Why did you name your track after me? Why is my name tattooed across your hand?”

  Trent goes still and, for a second, I forget how to breathe. Once again, I can’t control myself when it comes to this man. All my carefully planned sentences flushed down the toilet because of the burning need to still mean something to him.

  His shoulders shake and a laugh escapes into the night air, echoing around us. Trent’s head falls back, until the bill of his hat hits his shoulder blade. This time when he turns around, his blue eyes are icy and distant. I fight the urge to flinch from the impact. “Everyone down there is racing illegally, selling drugs, buying drugs, partying underage. A cesspool of criminals in one way or another. Scar, is just a name that embodies all of that.”

  “Why the tattoo?” I ask again, my gaze moving from his face to the hand he has wrapped around a bottl
e of Jack.

  “Each time I look down all I think about is wrapping my hands around the neck of the person responsible for my friend’s murder. How I’ll choke the life out of that person and enjoy watching the light leave their eyes as they struggle to breathe. Scar is the reminder I need. The end goal. You’re responsible. Your dad and that empire are responsible.” His head twists to the side and I watch while his throat constricts and his hand flexes on the bottle before he flings it into the distance.

  I startle from the noise of the shattering glass in the quietness around us. My heart rate kicks up and my eyes blink furiously to stop the sting of tears. Trent hating me is not new. I’ve accepted it and in the past six years, I’ve done everything I can to move on and look for ways to make it right. Now the time is here and I’m scared. That is what I hate more than anything. I quit letting men have my fear when I was eighteen.

  “Will you be there tomorrow or not?”

  He scoffs. “You can tell your master I’ll be there. Anything to get this over with, so I can put you behind bars where you belong.”

  “I’ll accept and take responsibility for what I’ve done.” I find the will to keep my voice strong. “I just hope you’re ready to hear the truth. Not everything is what you seem to believe.”

  “If you think I trust anything that comes out of your mouth, Reyes, you got another thing coming. To me, you’ll always be the lying bitch who ruined my life and killed one of my best friends.”

  I knew he’d say it. I’d spent months preparing myself to hear these words, and yet, they still feel like razor blades nicking across my skin, flaying my feelings wide open. There’s nothing else to say. I turn on my heel and head back down the path, keeping my head up and my back straight. Trent can’t hurt me; I’ve already blackened my soul enough for the both of us.