Read Online I'll Remember You (Hell Yeah!) by Sable Hunter - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sable Hunter
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the ring, as if it were a magic talisman.
Harley, Beau’s wife, had held the ring in her hand. She was said to have some psychic powers. Beau had told Libby those powers had kept Harley alive many times when she diffused bombs, letting her know which wire to cut or which switch to flip.
Harley had clutched Aron’s ring and let her mind touch whatever power revealed hidden secrets, and she’d told Libby Aron was not dead. She had felt the continuation of his life force. And Libby believed her. She, too, felt Aron was still on this earth, somewhere. And he still loved her. That was her hope and her prayer. Libby was holding on to that dream with both hands.
Life at Tebow was continuing. Nathan was taking Aron’s absence as hard as she was, but the family had rallied around them. Jessie was in the last trimester of her pregnancy and Jacob continued to work on their house. But he and his wife refused to move out of Tebow main house right now. They were afraid Libby would need them. And she appreciated that fact. She did need them. She needed the whole family.
Cady and Joseph stayed close to home. Joseph was competing again, but Cady was like his lodestar, she drew him home far more frequently than before. Isaac and Avery were together now and peace seemed to have descended on the family. Even Noah was getting a long better with everyone. Sighing, she stood and walked to the window, gazing out over McCoy country.
Aron’s home. Aron’s legacy.
She molded her tummy, feeling the slight kick of little feet. “We have to hold on. We have to believe. Daddy will come home, I just know he will.”
Chapter Four
La Dura Headquarters – Cananea, Sonora, Mexico
Martina stormed out of the house, checking her watch. She was late. “Car!” she snapped and one of her bodyguards summoned the driver. In moments, the dark Sedan drove up. The windows were so tinted they were black. She missed her sports cars, but these days an armored vehicle was the only thing that made sense. There had been two attempts on her life already, and she knew there would be more. Living to a ripe old age was doubtful, that was why Martina was determined to live well while she could.
“To the hacienda,” she directed, looking out the window at Los Banos. Her father insisted the ranch be kept ‘clean’. None of her business could be conducted on the property. She didn’t know why she put up with so much grief from her old man. He was senile and weak.
Martina sighed. She knew why. Because Alessandra loved him and she loved Alessandra. Family—they could easily become your downfall. Her uncle Esteban was trouble enough. He resented the fact that the power had passed through her mother, Iliana, rather than straight to him. But her grandfather, Rodrigo, had been able to gauge who could be trusted the most and Esteban had one fatal flaw—he was somewhat soft-hearted. He was brilliant, but with a conscience. So, they shared the power, divided the duties. To the world, she was the leader. But Esteban was the power behind the throne. Martina cut the deals. She made the tough decisions. She sentenced people to death. And Esteban used his magnificent brain to come up with new ideas for them to make more money, control more territory and sell more drugs.
It was Esteban who’d originated the idea of building their own submarines under the jungle canopies of the Amazon and using them to bring drugs in along the coast of California. He also thought of bypassing the fence in Southern California by catapulting bales of marijuana over the high-tech structure. He beat the authorities’ game with twenty-five hundred year old technology. In Wisconsin, he contracted growers to plant fields of marijuana on national forest land to supply the demand in Chicago. He dug tunnels under the border, some of them air-conditioned with trolley systems. He vacuumed-sealed some of his drugs in tin cans and slapped pepper labels on them, shipping
Harley, Beau’s wife, had held the ring in her hand. She was said to have some psychic powers. Beau had told Libby those powers had kept Harley alive many times when she diffused bombs, letting her know which wire to cut or which switch to flip.
Harley had clutched Aron’s ring and let her mind touch whatever power revealed hidden secrets, and she’d told Libby Aron was not dead. She had felt the continuation of his life force. And Libby believed her. She, too, felt Aron was still on this earth, somewhere. And he still loved her. That was her hope and her prayer. Libby was holding on to that dream with both hands.
Life at Tebow was continuing. Nathan was taking Aron’s absence as hard as she was, but the family had rallied around them. Jessie was in the last trimester of her pregnancy and Jacob continued to work on their house. But he and his wife refused to move out of Tebow main house right now. They were afraid Libby would need them. And she appreciated that fact. She did need them. She needed the whole family.
Cady and Joseph stayed close to home. Joseph was competing again, but Cady was like his lodestar, she drew him home far more frequently than before. Isaac and Avery were together now and peace seemed to have descended on the family. Even Noah was getting a long better with everyone. Sighing, she stood and walked to the window, gazing out over McCoy country.
Aron’s home. Aron’s legacy.
She molded her tummy, feeling the slight kick of little feet. “We have to hold on. We have to believe. Daddy will come home, I just know he will.”
Chapter Four
La Dura Headquarters – Cananea, Sonora, Mexico
Martina stormed out of the house, checking her watch. She was late. “Car!” she snapped and one of her bodyguards summoned the driver. In moments, the dark Sedan drove up. The windows were so tinted they were black. She missed her sports cars, but these days an armored vehicle was the only thing that made sense. There had been two attempts on her life already, and she knew there would be more. Living to a ripe old age was doubtful, that was why Martina was determined to live well while she could.
“To the hacienda,” she directed, looking out the window at Los Banos. Her father insisted the ranch be kept ‘clean’. None of her business could be conducted on the property. She didn’t know why she put up with so much grief from her old man. He was senile and weak.
Martina sighed. She knew why. Because Alessandra loved him and she loved Alessandra. Family—they could easily become your downfall. Her uncle Esteban was trouble enough. He resented the fact that the power had passed through her mother, Iliana, rather than straight to him. But her grandfather, Rodrigo, had been able to gauge who could be trusted the most and Esteban had one fatal flaw—he was somewhat soft-hearted. He was brilliant, but with a conscience. So, they shared the power, divided the duties. To the world, she was the leader. But Esteban was the power behind the throne. Martina cut the deals. She made the tough decisions. She sentenced people to death. And Esteban used his magnificent brain to come up with new ideas for them to make more money, control more territory and sell more drugs.
It was Esteban who’d originated the idea of building their own submarines under the jungle canopies of the Amazon and using them to bring drugs in along the coast of California. He also thought of bypassing the fence in Southern California by catapulting bales of marijuana over the high-tech structure. He beat the authorities’ game with twenty-five hundred year old technology. In Wisconsin, he contracted growers to plant fields of marijuana on national forest land to supply the demand in Chicago. He dug tunnels under the border, some of them air-conditioned with trolley systems. He vacuumed-sealed some of his drugs in tin cans and slapped pepper labels on them, shipping
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