Page 1 of Unhinged

1

TAREN

Dark, soulless eyes dart across the courtyard as her soldiers await her command. There’s a tension in the air that feels like it’s stifling the oxygen in the room. It’s always the same at cartel meetings like this. When her soldiers are here, it means she wants blood.

She opens her mouth, and everyone holds their breath collectively. “Bring me their blood in barrels.” She paces in front of them. “By the time you return, I don’t want any of the Guerra gang breathing, not even their families.”

A shiver skates down my spine. There’s a reason we call Ileana the Red Queen. And it’s not because it’s her favorite color. It’s because she’s a bloodthirsty and ruthless Cartel leader. Rumors circulate amongst the men that she bathes in the blood of her enemies, and I know firsthand what she’s done.

Carnage and blood flash before my eyes, but I push the dark memory away.

Not today.

Today, I need to focus on the task at hand. The men scramble to follow her orders, and I take a step forward to follow. Despite the twisted nature of her order, not one man hesitates, as they know what happens if they do.

Her hand clamps on my shoulder, stopping me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To help.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t need you to help with that. Come and have breakfast with me.”

I clench my jaw. What grows when it’s fed but dies when it’s watered? I want to ask her that question, but I know best to shut my mouth. Ileana hates riddles. Hatred grows when it’s fed but dies when it’s watered with love. She has fed my hatred daily for twenty-two years. It consumes me. A dark, intangible entity that fills every void in my soul.

And I’m certain she’ll not water it with love, as the red queen doesn’t have the capacity. She’s soulless. Dead inside. And she’s been trying to make me the same. A soldier in her image. While my soul is shattered and fragmented, there are still small pieces she hasn’t eradicated.

I bow my head and follow her toward the dining room. Where a table is set, and she takes a seat on one end. I take the chair opposite.

She looks me in the eye but doesn’t say a word. Those dark eyes of hers have haunted me since I was a child. Ileana isn’t my mother, but she took me as her son and raised me. There’s nothing loving about her, though. She’s every child’s worst nightmare.

She eats her breakfast. Even though my stomach growls in hunger, I don’t touch the food. Not until she permits me to do so.

“Eat, Taren.”

I grab my fork and tuck into the migas, a traditional Mexican breakfast dish. I know better than to refuse the Red Queen’s orders. Following her orders has been ingrained in me since I was a child.

I can feel her eyes on me as I eat, studying my every move. I ignore it and focus on the food. But when she speaks again, her voice cuts through the silence like a knife.

“I’ve got a job for you,” she says, her tone cold and calculating. I know better than to ask what it is. She’ll tell me when she’s ready, in her own time. “I need you to do what you do best.”

Killing and deception. The two skills I excel in are those this woman has honed in me for years. “Which is?” I confirm, wondering which she needs from me.

“There’s a charity event next week in Mexico City.”

The mention of Mexico City sets me on edge. I haven’t stepped foot in the city since I was a child. The harrowing day when I met Ileana Navarro. The day she turned my world upside down. A flash of blood enters my memories, and I force it away.

Not now.

“And you want me to attend?”

She nods in response. “The Estrada Cartel will be there. I want to know why.”

Mexico City is a cesspit of crime where no single organization rules. It’s open territory and fucking dangerous. I know that all too well. “What do you believe they want?”

Ileana wouldn’t send me in there if she doesn’t think they’re after something valuable. “The city.”

My brow furrows. “Mexico City?” I confirm.

I see the irritation heighten as she clenches her jaw. “Of course. What other city would I be talking about?”

---