I wake up with my dick pressed against Tor's ass. Smiling, I work my arm around her waist and tug her closer because, damn, I've missed her. I press a kiss to her neck. She shifts, rolling onto her back and smiling softly without opening her eyes. Just as I cover her mouth with mine, the bedroom door bangs open.

"Bullshit!" Gabe shouts.

I sit up in bed and Tor yanks the covers over her chest. "What the hell, Gabe?"

"Look, look out the window." He drops his chin to his chest and sighs, mumbling something under his breath.

I climb out of bed, go straight to the window, and pull the heavy curtains back. "What am I looking—Oh..." There's a body hung over the side of Gabe's garden wall, birds tearing at the exposed entrails. "Shit."

Tor comes to stand next to me with the sheets wrapped around her.

"Roberta,” Gabe says, “my best hooker, and they gutted her. I wonder what that arctic fuck would think if it was his best whore with her guts hanging out." He paces as he lights a cigarette and begins puffing on it like a chimney. "That's it! The Sinaloa chlamydia-riddled whorehouse is going up in flames right along with their shitty cocaine." He takes a long drag, his eyes bulging.

"Calm down," I say.

He angrily points at the window. "They gutted my best whore, that's like taking a steaming shit right on my forehead."

"You pissed on one of their dead men," I say.

"And I'll piss on every last one of them. Hell, I'll take a shit on their chests if I get a chance."

"Oh my god. You have a strange obsession with shitting on people," Tor says, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to go change." She shakes her head as she walks past us. The sheet drops almost to her ass, exposing her bare back. Gabe turns around, watching her go, and I punch him in the arm.

Gabe looks at me as he flicks the ash from his cigarette to the floor. "I'm blowing up their whore house."

"That's not constructive."

His eye twitches. "Do you think I give a shit?" He points angrily out the window. "Look at Roberta!"

"Fine, blow up a whore house if it will make you feel better, but it won't get you anywhere."

Gabe glares at me, taking another long drag from his smoke. "So, suddenly you are an expert at the cartel?" Aggravation is evident in the slight tick of his jaw.

"You don't have to go around spilling everyone's fucking blood."

His eyes narrow and one side of his lips curl up. "But the blood is where the fun's at, ese."

"Fuck, you're demented."

He grins and takes a small bow. "Gracias."

I swipe my hand over my jaw and shake my head. This has to be done right because we need to get Cayla, and the Russian doesn't seem to be one for much patience.

Tor comes out from the bathroom wearing a pair of shorts and one of my t-shirts. She huffs when she sits on the edge of the bed and crosses her legs. "So, what's the plan?"

I stare at her. Of course she thinks she needs to be involved. Of course she does. "Tor," I start.

"How about you don't waste your breath on whatever bullshit you're about to say, Jude. We made a deal."

Sighing, I drag my hand down my face and look at Gabe. He just shrugs. "We could get her to pose as a whore." He smiles.

"The fuck no!" I shout.

"Great idea," she says.

"Of course you'd think it is. No!" There is no way in all fuck Tor is dressing up like some Mexican hooker and strutting into some shitty cartel crack house.

Gabe steps over and thumps the side of my head. I have a visceral reaction where all I can think about is knocking his goddamn teeth down his throat, but I rein it in and clench my fist. He shrugs. "They have money that comes in from the gringos. Crosses the border every Thursday. The trucks are bullet proof and the drivers shoot first, ask questions later. But all men have one weakness, eh, ese." He snickers as his gaze drifts back to Tor.

I shove him back a step. "You've got plenty of fucking whores. Call one of them up and tell them to do this shit. Tor's not doing anything, you fucking idiot."

"What would you need me to do?" Tor asks Gabe.

"Stay your ass right there," I say, glaring at her.

Ignoring me, he glances around me at Tor and rolls his eyes. "This is the cartel. Some lines you don't cross. I'll blow people up, gut people, but stealing people's money sets a bad precedent. I steal Sinaloa money, they steal mine. And money's harder to replace than Roberta." Gabe crosses his chest. "God rest her soul." He sniffs.

Tor huffs. "What would I need to do?"

"Are you fucking deaf?" I ask, leaning down in front of her face. "I said fucking no."

"Well," Gabe pushes me out of the way, and I punch him in the face.

His head jerks to the side and he moves his jaw from side to side. He glares at me, nostrils flaring. I don't give a flying shit. "Gabe, stay out of this."

He lifts a finger, grating his teeth. "I'm going to blame that on your shitty temper." He takes a breath. "Now, do you want your daughter back from the fucking Russian or not?"

Groaning, I tilt my head back and step to the side.

"As I was saying before Neanderthal here punched me—you know, you really need anger management classes, ese," —he shakes his head, "they always stop at Aqua Basal Truck Stop, so you just dress the part of a dirty cholita and seduce the driver. Get in the cab like you're going to ram his dirty little dick down your throat—" I grip his shoulder hard and clear my throat. Gabe huffs. "He's so moody. Anyway, just, you know, pretend like you're going to...” He makes some flourish movement with his hand, eyeing me, “and when you get inside, blow his fucking head off." He grins. "With a gun, not your—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point, Gabe." Tor rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips.

"And you expect them to just let her waltz the fuck in there?" I groan.

He leans back, grabbing his chin with his hand as his eyes skate over Tor's body. "Ese...come on, now. Look at her." He growls. "Pretty gringo's like her—"

"I'm not American," Tor sighs.

"Yeah, yeah, pretty blondes like her." He blows a kiss. "Those dirty Sanchez fucks will cut off their balls to have a go with her."

I grit my teeth, trying to force myself to breathe. It's just Gabe. Just fucking Gabe... Tor moves to my side, placing her hand gently on my forearm. "Gabe, can you give us a minute? You're not exactly helping the situation," she says, staring at him.

"Oh, of course." He steps into the hall, closing the door behind him.

I pace in front of the bed. She's fucking insane. He's fucking insane. I'm the only sane fucker around here, and that’s not good. I spin on my heel and face her, narrowing my gaze. "You are not fucking doing that shit."

She steps toward me and sighs, placing her hand on my chest. She looks up at me all innocently through her lashes. "Jude—"

"Ah, hell no." I slap her hand away from me. "Don't even start with that shit, Tor."

She sighs and folds her arms over her chest. "Look, unless you're going to put on a dress and seduce some sweaty truck driver, I suggest you roll with it."

"There are ten-fucking-thousand whores in Juarez..."

"Be serious, Jude. A whore might sell her pussy for money, but her life? They'd have to be suicidal to rip off the Sinaloa."

I drag my hands down my face and grunt. I don't want her doing this. At fucking all. She pushes up on her tiptoes, presses a soft kiss to my cheek, and wraps her arms around my waist. "Not like we expect to get out alive anyway. What do we have to lose?"

And she's right. We won't get out of this alive.

This is about Cayla...but I fucking love Tor and it’s an animal instinct to protect her. Closing my eyes, I huff. "Fine, Tor. If you fucking feel it's best. Fucking fine."

And I turn, walking out of the room and passing Gabe in the hall. "The two of you figure that shit out,” I say. “I'm just along for the goddamn ride."