CHAPTER 4—FARRON'S PAST REVISTED
Jesus Ortiz sat out on the deck of his multimillion-dollar beachfront home. He was a middle-aged man who lived on the labor of others. He had dabbled in every type of business imaginable, legal and otherwise. Mostly, Ortiz was into drugs. As a child in a poverty stricken country, his personal hero was Pablo Escobar. He aspired to be just like him. Today, he was. However, unlike Escobar, he didn't intend to be taken down any time soon. He gazed out onto the perfect white sand and choppy blue-green water of the gulf. He appeared to be a man with very little to worry about. He was not. His closest soul hermano sat across from him. Pablo Dominguez had been his second in command for many years. He was a brave man and carried out any order without question. He was the only hombre he would trust with his life. At one time, he had been able to count on his other soul hermano, Mateo Luis. Mateo had turned his back on the family and had seemingly disappeared in the night. It was Dominguez's job to hunt down Mateo and bring him back for his execution. He had committed a treasonous act, and Ortiz wouldn't allow him to breathe much longer.
* * *
Dominguez and Luis were the top traffickers in Ortiz's family, but Luis had a great weakness. He refused to kill a man, even if he deserved it. He had no qualms about running guns, drugs, or other contraband. However, he refused to kill on command. It was a trait that Ortiz figured would lead to his eventual death. Luis had been in many confrontations with competing drug families, but he managed to come out unscathed. Luis joined the fold after staying out of the drug business for many years. Ortiz consented to take the young man into his operation after he discovered he had trafficked for his former partner. If Mateo Luis was good enough for Enrique Vasquez, he was good enough for him. After Luis joined the fold, the first person Ortiz introduced him to was Ramon Ramirez. The slightly dirty politician had funded his campaign from monies generated from drug sales. He had solid Colombian ties and he always looked out for his hermanos. He had managed to get pardons for many of Ortiz's men. Of course, Ortiz paid Ramirez well, until he was betrayed. Through his trusted hermano, he learned that Ramirez was taking kickbacks from one of Ortiz's old enemies. That just would not do. He gave immediate orders to Luis and Dominguez. They were to take out the ungrateful son-of-a-bitch. Dominguez jumped at the chance to please him, but Luis hesitated.
"I will not take his life," Luis had said. "I'll run your drugs and your guns, but I won't take another life."
"You will or you die with him, Mateo," Ortiz had replied. "You go with la familia or you die. Ramon betrayed us all, and you must avenge the family. He helped kill Enrique. Wasn't he like your hermano? Go or die. It's your choice."
When faced with such resistance, Luis agreed reluctantly and accompanied Dominguez on his mission. They went out at night, wearing their long hair tied back. Each man was cloaked in black clothing. Dominguez gave Luis a semi-automatic handgun. Of course, Luis had held a gun before, but he felt uncomfortable with its weight. He had never killed another human being. He had seen his fair share of death and had witnessed many bloody shootouts, but he was never a bringer of death. He had crossed the line when he began to dabble with the drug trade, but if he helped murder Ramirez, he would take the ultimate plunge into a deadly, soulless world. He was a fuckup, but he was no killer. He was quite tempted to shoot Dominguez in the leg just to stop this crazy hit.
Together, Luis and Dominguez left their black van and crept up to the house and the unsuspecting Ramirez family. To Luis' horror, the entire family was home. Ramirez had a wife and two very small children. Ortiz wouldn't ask either man to kill the wife or the children, but Luis was certain Dominguez intended to take them all out. He didn't care who or what he killed. He was cold-hearted and brutal. Luis literally begged Dominguez not to harm Ramirez's wife and children. Dominguez promised to spare their lives, but Luis didn't trust his hermano as far he could throw him. The two men crept upstairs to the bedroom and Dominguez motioned for Luis to move in and hold back Ramirez's wife.
As they burst into the bedroom of the sleeping couple, Luis literally felt his legs go weak. He couldn't believe he was in a room about to take the life of another human being. El cobarde, he thought. (Coward) Yes, he was a yellow-hearted coward. He had been one his entire life. Ramirez and his wife began to scream in horror. Luis was supposed to move his feet and grab the woman, but he couldn't.
"Obténgala," Dominguez screamed. ("Get her!")
Luis couldn't move. He refused to move. He wanted no part in killing this man or his wife. Growling his contempt, Dominguez aimed his weapon at Ramirez's wife, but Luis countered his move by shooting at his hermano. The bullet missed, of course. Luis had terrible aim. Horrified that his hermano would shoot at him, Dominguez put three bullets in Ramirez as the man tried to flee the room, and he then aimed his weapon at Luis. By this time, Luis was shielding the body of the screaming woman with his. He would not kill her; he would have to shoot him first.
"Muévalo bastardo," Dominguez yelled. ("Move, you bastard!")
"Jódalo," Luis screamed back. ("Fuck you!") "Yo no permitiré que usted la matará." ("I will not let you kill her.")
"Usted morirá para esto," Dominguez promised. ("You will die for this.")
Without another word, without another bullet spent, Dominguez left the mansion. Ortiz would be very disappointed in Luis when he heard the news. He was certain that his next job would be to bring Luis down. Luis lingered with Ramirez's wife only a few moments longer. He could not stay in this house, could not look upon the dead body of Ramirez. As he fled from the bedroom, he was confronted with the two sleepy faces of Ramirez's daughters. Rosalita and Emilita Ramirez would haunt his dreams for weeks to come. Once they laid eyes on their dead father, they screamed and screamed.
Luis returned to the compound the next day. By then, Ortiz had heard of the yellow way his hermano had conducted himself. The orders were swift and harsh. Luis was to die. Of course, Luis was aware of this, but he went to his friend to face him, to try and reason with him. Then and there, he told el jefe that he wanted out. He didn't want to run drugs and guns any longer. For once, he wanted to straighten out his life and find a better way to live. At the pace he was going, he would be dead by his next birthday. Surely, Ortiz would understand and release him without further repercussions. He had even promised he would not mention the murder of Ramon Ramirez to the authorities. Ortiz was a prime bullshitter, and he agreed to Luis' well thought arguments. However, he had already sent orders for Luis to be exterminated that very night. Jesus Ortiz hated backstabbing fuckers more than he hated liars.
Mateo Luis went home that evening a little at peace. The one thing that disturbed it was the news of Ramirez's murder. The wife of Ramon Ramirez appeared on camera crying hysterically. She made an appeal to the man who helped save hers and her children's lives. She couldn't remember what he looked liked other than a basic description: tall, dark hair, and Spanish. She knew little else. Luis' heart began to pound in his chest. She was talking about him. He barely had time to feel shocked. His front door caved in with tremendous force. Luis dived down onto the floor and covered his head for protection. Standing before him was his hermano, Pablo Dominguez. Luis did the only thing he could. He crashed through the window near the fire escape. He fell two stories down into a dumpster. He ran for his life and escaped to another state where he was another person.
* * *
"You must find Mateo, Pablo," Ortiz said. The federales are involved now. If they find him, he will spill his yellow guts. I refuse to go down. Find him, mi hermano. Put him too sleep forever."
* * *
Farron Donovan sat up in bed suddenly, a scream just behind his lips. Goddamn nightmares, he thought. He had been dreaming about his past. Not many people knew it, but Farron had two separate and distinct identities. In the lower United States, in Central and South America, he was known to all as Mateo Luis. He had affected the Spanish name after immersing himself back into the drug trade. He could no longer use 'Donovan,' not with his brother's special status. The name carried a lot of weight. Frank had literally come into his own and nearly ruled the roost in his field. If he had shown up on Jesus Ortiz's doorstep as 'Farron Donovan,' his brother would immediately be put in danger. He had caused Frank enough grief and didn't want to place him in mortal danger again. He had never forgiven himself for leaving Frank to bleed to death as he ran like the coward he was. Of course, his other identity, that of Farron Donovan, surfaced whenever he went home to see his family. He had even affected a different look and accent just so he could leave the crazy part of his life behind. He used the money he made to set up two different houses and lifestyles. In Florida, he lived as any other successful man did. He had his own beachfront estate and littered his garage with fancy cars. At home, with his true family, he lived modestly, never hinting that he was anything other than an average man. Leading two separate lives had begun to wear thin. There was also the matter of his night terrors.
Images of Rosa and Emily Ramirez haunted him almost every night. He would never forget the horrified expressions on their faces as they watched their father bleed to death. Nothing else bothered him as much [with the exception of Frank nearly dying before his eyes] as those little girls. If Dominguez had had his way, the entire family would have been murdered and buried together. He had lived with a lot of horror, a lot of grief, and guilt. However, he couldn't have lived with the idea of those little girls under the ground, their innocent lights put out before they even had a chance to experience life. He wanted out, wanted to leave behind the life once and for all. He couldn't take the murders, the paybacks, or the constant need to look over his shoulder. Farron had left the life before, right after Frank went back to school. His need for power and money seemed insignificant. However, the call never went away. He had been tempted before, but had been able to fight it, until he met Pablo Dominguez who introduced him to his jefe. After that, Farron fell in love again.
Sighing heavily, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He was so very tired, so exhausted. He stood up and stretched his long, lean frame. As usual, he was as naked as the day he was born. Last night, he had not slept alone. The woman was still in bed and hadn't moved one inch. He was surprised his sudden and abrupt rising hadn't awakened her. Of course, she was also sleeping off a tremendous amount of alcohol that they had consumed the night before. He couldn't quite remember the woman's name right now, but she was definitely lovely. Her beauty could match that of a super-model, but she wasn't quite the same type of woman that Frank had married. He wasn't necessarily attracted to his sister in-law, but he found himself wanting the kind of life Frank had. He wanted to start over, but in order to do that, he needed Frank's help. If anyone could save his life, it would be Frank. This would be the very last time he would come to Frank for assistance. He wanted to finally leave his brother be. Frank had a wife now, and would soon have a child. There was little room in his life to keep supporting his ungrateful twin. He hoped his visit with Loralei would help. He hoped she would convince Frank to see him, to speak to him, even if it was just for a few moments. However, Frank was totally and completely stubborn, and Farron realized that he deserved every ounce of hatred that his brother held for him.
Farron went to the window and hoped that the woman in his bed wouldn't get up any time soon. He enjoyed having this quiet time to himself, even if it was spent brooding on his mistakes. Pablo Dominguez would find him soon enough. Farron was known in various circles all over the world. It was only a matter of time before Ortiz and Dominguez realized that Mateo Luis was Farron Donovan. He simply hoped that Frank would bring him down before the grand confrontation. Farron wasn't afraid to die, but he wanted to clean up his life. He wanted a second chance. He would see Loralei again, possibly today, and find out if Frank had consented to see him. One way or another, he would get back into Frank's good graces. Perdóneme por favor, mi hermano. Yo lo amo. (Please forgive me, my brother. I love you.)
* * *
For the first time in weeks, Loralei was out of bed before her husband. As much as Farron before her, Loralei stood at the bedroom window gazing out at nothing in particular. She had started out watching the sunrise, but didn't bother moving after it finished its lovely job. Donovan had literally cried himself to sleep. It was the first time she had ever seen him like this. He had held onto his hurt for so many years, and when he finally let it out, it had overtaken him, rocking his foundation. She knew the hurt wouldn't go away, but she hoped that his letting it out would allow him to heal. After hearing the overwhelming story, she wasn't sure how she felt about Farron. He had shown a grand character flaw when he gave out Donovan's address, but leaving his bleeding brother to die was harsh and cruel. She wasn't sure if she could be charitable enough to forgive a betrayal such as Farron's. Of course, it had happened years before Loralei even knew Frank Donovan existed, but still, he was the man she loved more than life itself, and the thought of his nearly dying almost killed her. She didn't even want to imagine what her life would have been like if she had never met him. Selfish, Selfish, Loralei, she thought.
Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't see Donovan slipping soundlessly out of bed. She wouldn't have known he had gotten up at all if he hadn't approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She gasped [ohmygod] in surprise and took in a sharp breath. Her heart thumped in her chest as his lips caressed the side of her throat. His hands rested protectively over her middle. She closed her eyes and leaned back into him. Eventually, his hands moved up slowly from her middle to her breasts where he cupped them gently into his hands. A soft sigh escaped her as chill bumps erupted all over her body. His hands released her breasts and moved over to her arms. One arm slid up hers and moved all her hair over her shoulder. His lips then moved up to her ear as his tongue teased her lobe. Uh. Uh. He's almost on the spot, she thought insanely. His tongue hit that sweet little spot behind her ear and she actually felt her legs weakening beneath her. Oh, Loralei, you're so easy, she thought. After a brief, almost deliciously painful moment, his lips moved away from her ear. She wasn't sure if she was happy or upset about that. He drew away from her for a brief moment and turned her to face him. He lowered his head just the slightest bit and laid a long, breathless kiss on her lips. He possessed her, he possessed all of her. She molded her body against his, and felt somewhat disappointed that she couldn't get any closer to him.
He broke the kiss only to move his mouth down to her throat. She threw her head back a little as his demanding lips and tongue moved over the slight arch of her throat. His teeth nipped her flesh gently. "Loralei," he said against her flesh.
Her eyes were still closed, and she had her arms wrapped tightly about his body. The way he said her name made her quiver. It felt like a little vibration that sent a tingling sensation all the way through her body and down to her toes. "Yes baby," she whispered. She could barely speak.
He drew away from her yet again and consumed her with his dark eyes. "I have never loved anyone like I love you. Right now, right at this moment, I have never loved you more. I don't ever want you to doubt that. What you did for me last night has never been done." He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, she could have sworn she saw unshed tears in them. He didn't want to open the floodgates again. "If I were to die today," he began, but then paused as he fought the lump trying to rise into this throat, seemingly wanting to strangle the life out of his words, "I'd sell my soul to come back just to love you one more day."
Donovan didn't give her time to speak one word. His lips captured hers again and he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
* * *
"You never told me what your news was," she said suddenly.
He looked down at her snuggled so securely against his body, and for a moment, he wanted to forget he had to leave. Ah the horrors of reality, he thought. "We received a new case. It's a priority job. We have to go Florida tomorrow."
"Oh," she said.
He heard the sadness in that one simple word. She would never ask him to stay, because she knew he must go. However, she didn't have to like it. Neither did he for that matter. "It will be a UC job," he said, "and I'm not even sure when we'll return."
She shifted her position to lean over him. She didn't like the idea of him being gone so long. "Take me with you. So you have to go undercover. Who says you can't have a pregnant wife?"
He sighed. Cody's words came back to haunt him: Here comes World War 3. "I do. I'm not about to put you in harm's way. You're five months pregnant, Loralei, and if anything happened to you or the baby, I'd never forgive myself."
She knew he was thinking about the miscarriage. "It won't be like last time. This is totally different. I don't want to stay here alone, with only a phone call here and there. It's not enough, not right now. Take me with you."
"What about school? You're right in the middle of a semester. What if this takes longer than a few days?"
"I'll deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, I can take my books along. What we're doing in class isn't that important. No examinations. No strict attendance requirements. Nothing but a lot of writing, and I can always borrow a laptop. It all flows to the dissertation. I can even call my department and let them know. They know I'm pregnant and they expect me to take a break anyway."
He shook his head a little. She had it all figured out. God help him, but he was actually considering it. What in the world was wrong with him? It was simple, really. He didn't want to be without her. Although he could mask it well, he was a natural worrier. However, if she stayed here, he wouldn't get much work done. He would have his mind on her constantly. At least if she went along, he would know she was okay. He didn't trust Farron. He didn't want her in the same city as his brother. "You'll take a separate flight out and have a different room in the hotel. Wherever you are, I'll find you. None of this is negotiable."
He looked up at her expectantly, with his infernal lifted eyebrow, ready to argue if she disagreed with even one slight point. "Agreed," she said simply.
Donovan sighed heavily. "Thank God. I'm too damn tired to argue."
She kissed his lips gently. "You're so pussy whipped," she said with a little smile.
He pushed her down to the bed. "You know I'll make you pay for that little comment, don't you?"
"I'm so scared," she said sarcastically. Her eyes gleamed wickedly.
"You should be. I know all the buttons to push."
And push them, he did.