hadn’t touched the ground. When Aron kissed her, he consumed her, he inhaled her. She always felt so cherished. There was no other man in the world like Aron McCoy. He was her hero. He was her protector. He was her life. “Aron, come home to me. Please.” Clutching the pictures to her chest, she prayed. “I need him, God. We need him. Please give him back to me.”
***
Los Banos Ranch
“You have gone too far, Martina.” Tomas consoled one daughter while he confronted the other. “Your obsession with power and money has stolen your humanity.”
Martina stood her ground. She was regal in her bearing, but not untouched by the tears of her sister. Yet, logic should prevail. “Not long ago you were concerned with all of the deaths and bloodshed, Padre. Now, I offer a solution and you reject it? Because of emotion? This has been the way of powerful families since time immemorial.”
“If you want someone to marry Joaquin Rios, marry him yourself!” Alessandra yelled at her older sibling.
“I agree.” Their father chimed in. Your involvement in this lifestyle makes me sick, but letting Alessandra marry into it also would kill me. It would be like throwing her into a pool filled with blood-thirsty piranha with a paper-cut on her finger. They would devour her!”
“But, I cannot marry Rios, I am going to marry…” Martina stopped, her thoughts turning somersaults in her brain. “So, you love this vaquero?”
“I do, so much.” Alessandra pleaded with her sister, standing before her with her hands outstretched. “Help me, Martina. Don’t make me run away from you. I can’t live without him.”
Oh, she could rectify this situation. Brock could go missing with a snap of her fingers, but then her baby sister would hate her. God! She was going soft. The head of a drug cartel did not go soft and survive. Martina hung her head, wondering what to do.
***
Rosa’s Cantina – near Los Banos Ranch – Sonora, Mexico
Austin was surprised by Rosa’s. He had been expecting mariachi music and he got country western. In fact, the interior of the bar looked so familiar; he knew he’d frequented one similar to it somewhere else. “All right. Spill.” He drained his first long-neck and motioned for another.
“Do you know who Martina Delgado is?”
“I don’t know.” Aron smirked. “Could she be the sister of the woman you’re in love with?”
Brock didn’t look that shocked. “You are one perceptive cowpoke.”
“No, not really. I just heard Alessandra screaming her love for you at the top of her lungs back at the house.”
“What? Why?” Brock looked concerned, upset and scared for Alessandra, he presumed.
“Her sister, my beloved,” he said wryly, “just informed Alessandra that she has been chosen to marry the most eligible bachelor in Mexico, Joaquin Rios.”
As Austin watched, Brock’s face blanched white. “Over my dead body. Do you know who Rios is?”
“No. Hell, I don’t know who I am, much less a Mexican lothario.” He assumed it was not a mere rival for the señorita’s affections.
Brock looked around the bar, carefully.
“Who are you searching for?”
“Snitches. They’re everywhere.”
Austin was feeling like he was playing a bit part in an old movie. “What are you talking about?”
Philips leaned over and whispered. “Rios is the son of the second most dangerous drug lord in Mexico.”
“What?” To say Austin was shocked was putting it mildly. “Why would Martina even suggest such a thing? Why would she even consider marrying her innocent younger sister to a kingpin?”
Brock didn’t answer straightaway. He just stared at Austin Wade. Then, he asked, “If Rios is second, do you know who is considered the most lethal drug lord in Mexico?”
“No, I can’t say I do.” Austin had no idea where the conversation was going.
Brock smirked. “Diosa de la Guerra, Queenpin of the El Duro Cartel.” Austin felt
***
Los Banos Ranch
“You have gone too far, Martina.” Tomas consoled one daughter while he confronted the other. “Your obsession with power and money has stolen your humanity.”
Martina stood her ground. She was regal in her bearing, but not untouched by the tears of her sister. Yet, logic should prevail. “Not long ago you were concerned with all of the deaths and bloodshed, Padre. Now, I offer a solution and you reject it? Because of emotion? This has been the way of powerful families since time immemorial.”
“If you want someone to marry Joaquin Rios, marry him yourself!” Alessandra yelled at her older sibling.
“I agree.” Their father chimed in. Your involvement in this lifestyle makes me sick, but letting Alessandra marry into it also would kill me. It would be like throwing her into a pool filled with blood-thirsty piranha with a paper-cut on her finger. They would devour her!”
“But, I cannot marry Rios, I am going to marry…” Martina stopped, her thoughts turning somersaults in her brain. “So, you love this vaquero?”
“I do, so much.” Alessandra pleaded with her sister, standing before her with her hands outstretched. “Help me, Martina. Don’t make me run away from you. I can’t live without him.”
Oh, she could rectify this situation. Brock could go missing with a snap of her fingers, but then her baby sister would hate her. God! She was going soft. The head of a drug cartel did not go soft and survive. Martina hung her head, wondering what to do.
***
Rosa’s Cantina – near Los Banos Ranch – Sonora, Mexico
Austin was surprised by Rosa’s. He had been expecting mariachi music and he got country western. In fact, the interior of the bar looked so familiar; he knew he’d frequented one similar to it somewhere else. “All right. Spill.” He drained his first long-neck and motioned for another.
“Do you know who Martina Delgado is?”
“I don’t know.” Aron smirked. “Could she be the sister of the woman you’re in love with?”
Brock didn’t look that shocked. “You are one perceptive cowpoke.”
“No, not really. I just heard Alessandra screaming her love for you at the top of her lungs back at the house.”
“What? Why?” Brock looked concerned, upset and scared for Alessandra, he presumed.
“Her sister, my beloved,” he said wryly, “just informed Alessandra that she has been chosen to marry the most eligible bachelor in Mexico, Joaquin Rios.”
As Austin watched, Brock’s face blanched white. “Over my dead body. Do you know who Rios is?”
“No. Hell, I don’t know who I am, much less a Mexican lothario.” He assumed it was not a mere rival for the señorita’s affections.
Brock looked around the bar, carefully.
“Who are you searching for?”
“Snitches. They’re everywhere.”
Austin was feeling like he was playing a bit part in an old movie. “What are you talking about?”
Philips leaned over and whispered. “Rios is the son of the second most dangerous drug lord in Mexico.”
“What?” To say Austin was shocked was putting it mildly. “Why would Martina even suggest such a thing? Why would she even consider marrying her innocent younger sister to a kingpin?”
Brock didn’t answer straightaway. He just stared at Austin Wade. Then, he asked, “If Rios is second, do you know who is considered the most lethal drug lord in Mexico?”
“No, I can’t say I do.” Austin had no idea where the conversation was going.
Brock smirked. “Diosa de la Guerra, Queenpin of the El Duro Cartel.” Austin felt
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