Sacrifice

Chapter Two

B eep. Beep.

“Ugh,” I murmur as I look at the clock. Five in the morning. It feels like I just went to bed. Where’s Carlos? Usually, he’s just getting home around this time.

Yawning and stretching, I roll my eyes before I get out of bed. A shiver runs through me as my toes meet the icy wooden floor. I reach for my hair tie and throw it up in a quick messy bun. Looking in the mirror, I notice the ever-growing circles under my eyes.

Working the graveyard shift at the diner four nights a week, going to college, and trying to take care of this farm is taking its toll.

“Carlos?” I call out as I stand in front of his door. In a way, I resent him for not working as much as I do. Maybe, hopefully, that will change today.

“Big brother, you have an interview at eight. We need to get the hay in for the cows before it rains again.” My head hangs as he doesn’t answer.

Shrugging, I shuffle downstairs. He’ll be ready soon enough. A shiver takes me and I wonder why it’s so cold in here. I hear the unit running. Looking at the thermostat next to the kitchen entryway, I notice it’s ten degrees colder than what I have it set on.

“Darn it! Another thing to fix around here.”

Closing my eyes, I count to ten. It’s too early to be this weary and upset already. Even with my pep talk, I’m irritated. Going into the kitchen, I press the start button on the coffee pot. It’s going to be a two-pot day.

Grumbling, I fiddle with the stove and it’s no surprise that it won’t turn on. Why did my brother insist on moving us to this farm? It’s been one problem after another to fix. I’m grateful to be with him and I love the animals; however, it’s been a tough year, and we’ve sunk everything we can into this place. Our father left us a large sum of money when he passed, but it’s gone now.

The more problems that pop up, the clearer it is that I should have told my brother no. But the way his eyes lit up with the ability to give us a home, melted me.

As I finally get the stove to turn on, I hear the gravel along the driveway crunching. Is Carlos just now getting home?

A terrible thought that it might be Brayden coming up the drive crosses my mind. He keeps trying to get my brother to partner with him in some kind of land deal. It would be a mistake. There are rumors about Brayden having killed his former business partners.

Another set of tires crunching along the gravel makes me side with caution. Before going to the door, I pick up the shotgun sitting to the right and check the chamber to see that it’s loaded. Just like I left it.

Sneaking out the back door, I walk around the east side of the house and see two large SUVs with blacked-out windows and two trucks lifted with oversized tires parked in a row. “Crap,” I whisper to myself, wishing Carlos was here.

Straightening my shoulders, I raise the shotgun. With a confidence I certainly don’t feel, I bellow toward the vehicles. “I don’t know who you are, but you have five seconds before I shoot.”

My nerves are going haywire. The front passenger door of the middle vehicle opens, and I aim the barrel toward it. Either I’ll hit the person or make the windshield my new practice target. I almost laugh at the idea of shooting someone. Then again, I’ve never shot at anything. But now’s as good of a time as any. Right? My hands shake as I stare at the car. Reeling in my anxiety, I feel nervous laughter bubbling in my chest. I focus on the man nearest me, and take a deep breath to steady myself.

I watch as he stands there and shuts his door. The man is gorgeous. He has spiked black hair that’s coiffed. Not a single errant strand. His nose is straight as he smiles threateningly at me. I can see his pearly white teeth and they are a stark contrast to his dark skin.

“Are you Aribella Tremaine?” He buttons his suit jacket as he takes a step toward me. My heart rate spikes as he smiles, more genuinely this time. It’s as if my gun doesn’t even phase him. If I wasn’t aware of how dangerous this man actually was, I might find him charming. However, I do know exactly who he is.

“Why are you asking?” I snarl. The man standing before me isn’t Brayden. No. He’s much worse. He’s well known in town, but I didn’t think I’d ever see him here at the farm. My brother warned me to never step foot in any casino around here because of him. The Beast he had called him.

“As the person who owns this land, I’d like to know who’s in my house.” He gives me a wink and steps even closer.

“Don’t move another muscle or I’ll shoot.”

He dares to laugh at me, full of arrogance.

“You are mistaken. I own this land and you are trespassing.”

Technically, I own half of it, but that’s semantics at this point.

“Ms. Tremaine, I’m -”

Frowning, I shake my head. “I know who you are, Mr. Domingo.” Wow, my manners are shining through today.

As he straightens his back, I think I might have offended him. Why do I care? Vincent saunters over to me, nonchalant and like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He puts his hand on my gun and I stare at him. “Then you know if you kill me, the cartel will take you out. And they won’t be nearly as forgiving as I plan to be.”

He’s right. Vincent ‘The Beast’ Domingo is the highest-ranking cartel member in America. Fear swarms around me as he wraps his hand around the barrel and closes in on me.

“I’m listening,” I say, still not lowering my weapon. Shooting him still seems to be the best option.

“Your brother, Carlos, owes quite a hefty sum of money to the cartel's casinos.”

Confusion settles over me. How could Carlos owe any money? We are completely broke, and he quit gambling over a year ago. He’s always out trying to find a job. My mind is spiraling with thoughts of what happened the last time Carlos was caught cheating at cards. We were thrown out of the Christmas party and he’d lost his job with the local construction company.

When Vincent tries to jerk the shotgun from me, I come out of my thoughts. Repositioning my hold on the gun, I shake it off, trying to get myself together. “Don’t move.”

Vincent chuckles and holds his hands up mockingly. “I’m going to reach for a piece of paper inside my coat.”

I nod, and he opens the jacket to show me the paper in the inside pocket. I also see two guns inside his jacket that he could easily grab, but he doesn’t reach for either of them. He takes the paper out slowly.

“We can discuss this note and everything else once you put the gun down, Aribella. Let’s go inside, out of the cold.”

As if I would want to be anywhere in close proximity with these men. He must be joking. When he raises an eyebrow, I huff in annoyance.

“You and me only. There’s no reason for all your men to come in.”

“I agree.” Vincent turns to his men and gives them the slightest nod. If I hadn’t been looking right at him, I wouldn’t have even noticed his head move at all.

“Alright, I’ve shown you good faith. Now show me yours.” With the way he growls his words, it doesn’t sound like a request, but more of a demand.

“Fine.” I lower the shotgun and look at him with distrust. “No funny business.”

Vincent grabs my arm, and I squint at him. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be in a pool of your own goddamn blood. Now shut your mouth and walk.”

If I thought I was nervous before, it was a mistake for me to invite him inside to talk. Nothing compares to how my heart seems suspended in my stomach, and the air in my lungs refuses to exhale. I open the back door, and as we walk through, he lets it slam shut behind him.

“Put your gun away.” We stand there looking at each other, and he moves away, walking toward the kitchen table.

If I’m not careful, he will probably kill me. Lowering the gun and propping it up against the wall, I keep my eyes trained on the floor. You can do this Aribella. You aren’t one to back down. Be Polite. Show him the deed and all will be fine.

I can finally breathe a little as I turn around and walk into the kitchen. I sit across from him and put my shaking hands in my lap. I don’t want him to see how nervous I am.

He takes the paper he showed me earlier from his coat pocket and hands it to me.

“This is from Carlos,” he says, and waits patiently as I unfold the letter. I notice Carlos’s scribbled lettering and read that he promised the land to Vincent if he lost in a Texas Hold’em Tournament. Any wind left in my sails vanishes.

“As you can see, your brother gave me the rights to the land and house, as well as everything in it.” Vincent takes the paper from me, and I sit still, unable to process what’s happening.

Considering I’m studying law, he’s not wrong. But the land is in both our names. Maybe I can talk him out of this. My mind laughs at me. You wanted to get away from here just a few minutes ago because of all the problems. Now you want to keep the land?

Shutting my thoughts off, I square my shoulders and take the high ground. Or at least I think I do. “In the State of Texas, you must have both landowners' permission and written consent.” My last-ditch effort, the only rebuttal I have in my arsenal, and I know it sounds weak. This man is from the Mexican cartel, he doesn’t give a dang about what the law says. I know if Vincent wants this land, he will make it happen.

His laughter holds no mirth in it. “There’s no going back on a deal with me. Your brother lost the tournament; therefore, anything in or around this land is mine. You understand I have the best lawyers in the state?”

He stands up, towering over me. I force myself up and stare at him.

“Your fifty percent will simply transfer into fifty percent ownership with me. However, I have no...”

I slap him and he doesn't so much as flinch, and now my hand is throbbing. God, his face feels like it is made of stone. Vincent raises an eyebrow at me and I wonder what that means. Putting the blame on the way he smiles at me so patronizingly, I go to slap him again. “How dare you act like you are...”

His reaction is too swift for me to finish my statement. I’m not expecting it when Vincent grabs my neck and forces my face to the table.

“You will vacate the premises immediately. Do not make this hard on yourself, Aribella.”

My lower lip quivers at the threat. If I fight him, God only knows what he will do to me. What option do I have? Thoughts of how I can barely afford to buy food enter my mind. There’s no way I can get a lawyer to fight this. My one saving grace is that the original deed to the land is in my safe deposit box at the bank. Maybe I can get my friend Janice at the courthouse to help.

“Let go of me,” I whisper. “I’ll get my clothes and be on my way.”

Vincent squeezes my neck and my breath hitches. “No. You’ll take nothing. As of now, you and everything in this dump are mine,” his words ring with finality.

“You can’t do this,”I whimper, and I can hear all my confidence leaving my voice. The world begins shrinking around me.

“Oh, but I already have,” he chuckles, and I feel his hand move away from my neck. I stand up and punch him in the nose.

There is enough force to move him away from me, but it isn’t hard enough to break it, unfortunately. He snarls at me as I try to make my getaway.