Page 78 of Deep Within Me

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.