Page 21 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

When the potential to run with one of the biggest drug lords in the world landed in our laps, we couldn’t refuse the opportunity. This is the break we’d been waiting for. But with bigger fish come a bigger sea and a whole host of new dangers. Like Kayne boarding a private jet and flying to an undisclosed location in Mexico with no communication to the outside world. This was Javier’s specifications.

El Rey is one of the most elusive and wanted men in the world. And if we want to get to him, we need to go through his right-hand man, Javier. No last name. Just Javier.

Not shady at all.

With a renewed nervousness, the door to the jet opens. I’m praying they don’t throw Kayne out in a body bag. These are people you do not fuck with. Ever. Yet here we are, trying to pull off one of the most dangerous ruses known to man.

The plane is parked several yards away from the limo. This is the guise. Kayne is the face of the operation, and I’m the backbone and brains. Not to say he isn’t smart or cunning, but one of us has to be responsible for the shady shit while the other keeps a polished persona. Our arrangement has worked wonders for over five years, and our strategy is finally reeling in the whales.

The door opens, and I wait, watching anxiously as Kayne stumbles then sways at the top of the stairs.

What. The. Fuck? He looks like complete shit. His suit is disheveled, his tie is loose, and he’s paler than a goddamn ghost.

Not good.

I climb out of the driver’s seat as he clumsily makes his way down the stairs. I open the back door, keeping up with the chauffeur act as he ambles closer. There’s a frigid chill in the late February air, but I barely seem to notice. My focus is locked on Kayne and his bloodshot eyes and tormented scowl.

Once he’s close enough, I catch a potent whiff of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?” I murmur just before he flops into the backseat.

Kayne regards me with a ghostly expression. “If I said no, would you believe me?” He grips the edge of the door for dear life.

“For Chrissake, get in the car.” I huff, scanning the area. This is the last thing anyone needs. A slowly unraveling, already unstable man.

I pop back into the driver’s seat and hit the gas. We need to go. Pronto.

I glance back at Kayne through the rearview and watch as he pours himself an entire rocks glass of brandy straight up.

“Think that pour is big enough?” I ridicule.

Kayne slides his eyes up to meet mine, pinning me with a harrowing, threatening, don’t-fuck-with-me glare. “There isn’t a pour big enough on this goddamn earth for me at the moment.” He drains the glass with his eyes still on me.

“What the fuck happened while you were there?” The distress in my own voice surprises me.

“Atrocities.” He pours another hefty shot.

“Explain,” I demand.

“A fucking entire compound of sex slaves. Abused, neglected, defiled.” He spits out the words with disgust. “He killed one. While I was fucking there. He made sure I heard her scream. Wanted to communicate his fucking point.Savage.” Kayne stares off into space, the glass bouncing unsteadily in his hand. “If there wasn’t a house full of innocent women, I would order an airstrike. Fuck, I’d steal a fucking missile launcher and take the fucking place out myself.” He swallows several large gulps of the amber liquid all at once.

Holy shit. I grip the steering wheel to keep it together.

“We need to eradicate these fucking people,” Kayne continues. “Wipe them right off the face of the earth.”

“Did you get the leverage we need to do that?”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? I proved my worth.”

I want to ask how exactly he proved himself, but I think that question is better left for another time. Like when he’s sober and not looking to drop a bomb.

“So Javier is going to be in touch?”

Kayne curls his lip menacingly. “Yes.”

“Then mission accomplished.”

“Yeah.” He grunts petulantly before swallowing the rest of the brandy in one gulp.

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