Carter Reed 2

Carter had said something happened, something that would change things for us. My blood grew cold as I connected the dots. “The Bartel family moved against him?”

Carter nodded, his eyes hooded.

“And now he’s back?” What did that mean?

“He’s resumed his place in the family.” Carter’s voice was somber with the gravity of what he said.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” I asked.

“Because you need to understand. It’s time you know more. You’re mine, Emma. My first allegiance is to you.” But Cole was family, too. He didn’t say the words, but I heard them anyway. Then he added, “Things are going to happen now, and I can’t control them. The Mauricio family has always followed me. I saved their leader. Even if Cole wasn’t with the family, he was still alive. His uncles and cousins have followed me and allowed me to do whatever I needed. They helped me save you.”

Suddenly I realized—he was going back in. A tear formed in my eye, and I ignored it. This was what he was telling me. I swallowed over a lump. “What happens now?”

He didn’t answer at first. Then he let out a soft breath of air and turned, his eyes pained. He said one word: “War.”

Cole had slacked with his training over the years. I adjusted, leaning forward, and he didn’t catch the movement. Five years ago, he would’ve been alert and reacting the same instant. He’d grown soft.

His eyes narrowed, and he twisted back on his leg, sweeping out with the other one.

I dodged the kick, but saw his hit later than I would’ve liked. I evaded both, blocking his arm and knocking him back a step. I should’ve countered with a hit of my own, but I didn’t. Maybe I’d grown soft, too?

No. I smirked at my own question. I wasn’t soft. Cole was.

A wicked grin appeared on his face, and he shook his head, falling back a couple of steps and putting distance between us as we sparred.

The room was dark. A single light bulb hung over our heads. Us—no weapons, no audience, and nothing to distract us. Hardcore training. We fought, and we got better. This was how I’d taught him so long ago. I called it night-style fighting. Most times an enemy doesn’t make their presence known. They use the darkness to conceal their approach, so a person needed to “feel” them coming before they arrived.

It’s what gave my men the “ghost” feel Emma always talked about. It was true. Be a ghost. Fight like a ghost. Disappear like one. That was the best way to ensure you lived.

“Like old times, huh?” Cole flashed a smile, but he watched my feet warily.

I didn’t respond. I waited for his eyes to glance away, and when they did, I swept my leg out, tripping him so he fell to the mat. He recovered before he even touched down and shot his hand up. I dodged it, grabbing his wrist, and I fell to the floor as well, but rolled him over with me. I kicked at his hip and flipped him to the side, then wrapped my other arm around his neck. I had him in a paralyzing hold.

Apply pressure and he’d fall asleep. That’s all I had to do, but Cole tapped out, so I let him go.

“Shit,” he exclaimed, recoiling from me.

I was the one to flash him a grin this time.

As we stood, he shook his head. “I forgot how fast you are.”

I shook my head. My quickness needed work. “I heard about the car accident. You thought fast on your feet there.” But he’d need to go more quickly. He knew it. I knew it. This training session was for both of us.

He grimaced. “Well, when the car hit the tree, that was a good indicator that I needed to do something.” He looked away. “They murdered two of my friends.” Then he swung back to look at me, and I saw their memory in him. “You know me. I didn’t get to have a lot of friends where I was.”

“Did you have others?”

“One other.”

“Do you need to bring them in?” Would the Bartel family find them and kill them?

He shook his head as his hands closed into fists. “Nah. It was an old woman. No one special.”

“You don’t get attached. If you make friends, be ready to say good-bye at a moment’s notice. You will get them killed.” That was one of the last things I’d said to him before I returned to the Mauricio family and told them Cole would remain hidden, from everyone.

He’d been away for five years. Three friends in five years. I had no doubt that “old woman” was someone special, and for his sake, I hoped the Bartel family wouldn’t track her down.

The Bartel family. Cole and I hadn’t discussed them yet. First priority had been bringing him back into the family. Then we’d finalize a plan of retaliation. There’d been a few hiccups, making the process of extracting him longer.

Cole asked me now, as if following the same train of thought, “How’d the meeting go this morning with the elders?”

I shrugged. “They’ll accept your leadership.”

Cole gave a sharp laugh. “I saw a few of them, remember? Before you got here and carted me away. I know some of them aren’t happy I’m back. Have you been leading them?” Cole went to the wall and bent down to grab a towel and water bottle. He wiped the back of his neck, waiting for my answer.

“No.”

“But they’ll follow you?”

I didn’t grab a towel. I didn’t grab a water bottle. I didn’t stretch. I stood there and waited for him to come back. Whether he realized it or not, our session wasn’t done. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’re the official head of the family now. They’ll follow you whether they want to or not. That’s how it is. Your bloodline is the true leadership. You’ll do well for them.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">