Page 16 of K-9 Justice

Sebastian waved the gun over his shoulder. “You think this is how I wanted to spend my retirement? In a junkyard? No, no, no. This place isn’t one of the fancy safe houses the lieutenants run to.” The cartel soldier lowered his voice, slowed his pace. As though they were approaching a cornered animal. “These cars are part of a maze. They funnel trespassers right where I want them. Like a spider catching a fly in her web.”

A bark echoed through the property. Then another. Though Carson didn’t have eyes on Max’s location or Ivy, he forced himself to remain.

Sebastian brought him to the edge of a dark expanse of dirt tucked between two rows of vehicles. No. Not dirt. A massive hole nearly invisible at this time of night.

And there at the bottom lay his partner. Unconscious. Unmoving. Max circled around Ivy’s body, staring up at him for help.

“This is whereel jefesent his enemies to be questioned and die.” Sebastian smiled, proud of his accomplishment, before turning back to Ivy at the bottom of the hole. “He sent them to me.”

Carson didn’t have a chance to process what Sebastian meant as his recruiter shoved him forward. The ground rushed to meet him. Too fast. And the world went black.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Something grimy coated the inside of her mouth.

Her pulse pounded at the back of her head as she tried to bring herself back into consciousness, but the delirium of sleep worked to drag her back down. There was no pain there. No pounding in her ankle. No headache.

Warmth framed her jaw, turning her face this way and that. Too easily. As though she were nothing but a rag doll. “Come now,senorita. It’s no fun if you’re not awake for this next part.”

Next part? What was the next part?

Ivy put everything she had into forcing her eyes open. But the world seemed to have turned upside down while she’d been asleep. Not asleep. Knocked out. The outline of a man shifted in front of her, letting her brain first take in the position of her body. Gravity pulled on her every muscle, pain igniting in her feet. Like they’d fallen asleep. No. Like the blood supply had been cut off.

She dragged her chin to her chest, a feat in and of itself. Upside down. A prickling took hold in her fingers. Her hands had been tied behind her back. With a zip tie, from what she could feel.

“Ah, there we are.” The man in front of her took his seat. Though she couldn’t pick out any distinguishing features with the lighting so low. Little of her surroundings were distinguishable, but he seemed to be avoiding showing his face altogether. “That’s better, don’t you think?”

His voice grated against her nerves. The kind of voice that visited in nightmares. Gravelly but calm at the same time. Low and threatening.

Ivy pulled at the zip ties binding her wrists at her lower back. She’d trained her operatives to beat such flimsy safeguards. It wouldn’t take much to break through the thin plastic, but the angle had to be right. Upside down was not a good angle. “Where…?”

Snippets of memory—of running for the gate of the junkyard—pieced together as slowly as the puzzle she’d been working on since Christmas. She and Max had gotten sights on the gate. They’d run while Carson intercepted Sebastian. Then…inky blackness.

A hole. Her stomach lurched as she recalled the sensation of falling. She’d landed feetfirst, but her right foot had made contact with a rock protruding from the basin. Her ankle had shot one way while her foot had gone the other before her head had collided with another rock jutting out from the side of the dirt wall. And Max… Where was Max? Where was Carson? “Where am I?”

“Does it matter?” Her captor shifted in his chair, but there was a hint of resistance in the movement. As though his body were fighting against him. She hadn’t been able to estimate his age without looking at his face directly, but the thin, papery skin along the backs of his hands said older rather than younger. Crusted jeans were stained with what looked like oil and grease, but from what little light illuminated the room, she noted perfectly clean, trimmed nails.

Not the mechanic he wanted her to believe he was.

Interlacing his hands against his low belly, Sebastian waited. It was an interrogation technique. Silence created pressure to fill the void. Lawyers, law enforcement and her own operatives used it as a weapon, but Ivy was conscious enough to recognize it forwhat it was: establishing power. He wanted her to believe he was in control. That the only way out of this was to comply, but she’d been through worse. Had survived worse. And he sure as hell would have to try a lot harder to get anything out of her.

Sebastian reached for something off to one side, pulling a sidearm into view. Her sidearm. “No wallet or keys in your possession. Just a gun, a little pocketknife and a lie about who you are. You failed to realize I knew exactly who you were before you showed up at my gate.”

“Then why let me in? Why go through this whole charade?” Ivy tried to take in the rest of the room. Find any potential objects that could be used as a weapon. But despite what her brain wanted this place to be, she couldn’t pick out equipment, tools or machinery relating to a junkyard warehouse. No. This place, this room, was something far more dangerous. Unique.

“To cut the head off the snake.” Sebastian detached the gun’s magazine from the main frame, seemingly counting the bullets lined up like little soldiers inside. “You and your private military contractors have tornSangre por Sangrelimb from limb. You’ve hunted us, stolen from us, murdered us.”

“Yes. Well, I’m so sorry about stopping your lieutenants from slaughtering thousands of innocent lives so you can push your drugs, steal their women and children and make a profit off other people’s misery.” Pure vitriol spread through her at the thought of all the damage the cartel had inflicted. All the hatred they’d created. The families they’d torn apart and the homes they’d destroyed. Raids, explosions, underage recruitment. Socorro had saved lives, and now he was going to try to convince her she was the bad guy? “I won’t do it again. Promise.”

Sebastian’s low laugh brushed against a buried part of her memory. As though she’d heard it before. Except that was impossible. Running Socorro kept her out of the field, and there hadn’t been a single instance in whichSangre por Sangrehadsucceeded in getting past her security measures. “I can see why Dominic likes you so much. Why he couldn’t kill you himself.”

Carson. Her heart jumped into her throat. Nothing in her peripheral vision suggested Carson or Max had been invited to this little party. The lack of windows in this place kept her from deducing how long she’d been unconscious, but her internal hunger cues gave a few clues. Not enough time for her insides to start eating themselves. Couple of hours. Maybe less. Which meant they had to be somewhere else. Somewhere within the warehouse or on the property. Sebastian wouldn’t have had time to dispose of their bodies and conduct this worthless interview.

The cartel soldier shifted forward, dark hair coming into view as he stood. Heavy footfalls seemed to echo through her with each connection to the cement floor. Sebastian circled to one side, just out of reach. “I imagine you’re the reason for my protégé’s recent lack of commitment to the operation. Why he’s been so…distracted.”

“What can I say? I’m in very high demand.” Ivy took the opportunity of being out of his direct sight to study the apparatus keeping her hoisted above the floor. While Sebastian had secured her hands with zip ties, he’d doubled up on chains around her ankles, hanging her from an oversize metal hook used to tow vehicles. And considering Carson most likely hadn’t helped secure her for the impending torture coming her way, Sebastian would have needed to lift her in place himself. Meaning he wasn’t as invalid as he wanted her to believe.

A fist rocketed into the side of her face.

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