Part I
SURRENDER
Prologue
CANE
When I was younger, I heard tales about a man feared by everyone. Men I thought were spooked by nothing and no one were afraid of him. Men who shot at police officers, served lengthy prison sentences, and faced the barrel of smoking guns daily felt threatened by him.
It astounded me that these men never spoke ill of him. It was always proper, never trash-talking or bragging. They only called him by one name, and had even told me several times that if he were called by anything else, there was a high likelihood that you’d be dead within a week. It was a name that, at the time, made no sense to me…
But then I met him, and I understood why everyone gave him his due.
He wasn’t your typical dealer. He wore expensive suits and watches and kept up with his appearance. Unlike most, he didn’t use his supplies. He was 100 percent clean, and that’s what kept him on top of his game.
He was smart and dedicated.
Persistent and precise.
He played the drug world like a game of chess, always making the right move that would keep him one step ahead, never swaying or deterring. He’d never slipped up—not once—and it was insane of me to want to work with someone like him…but when it came down to it, I had no other choice.
His name was Draco Molina. Many knew him as El Jefe. The Boss. And a boss he was, because when he made a statement, it was abundantly clear. When he ran jobs and scheduled deliveries, they were always on time, and when he needed his money, he came for it, whether you were ready to pay up or not.
Chapter One
KANDY
Beep…beep…beep…
The noise was relentless, pulling me out of a dark haze.
I peeled my eyes open and looked to the left. First thing I saw was blonde hair and then a blue blouse.
“Mom?” I croaked. My throat was bone dry.
“Kandy, sweetie! Oh my gosh!” She hopped up and hugged me tight around the neck. I lifted my arms and tried hugging her back, but it hurt too much.
“Ow,” I groaned, holding my stomach.
Mom looked down with worry in her eyes. “You were stabbed, Kandy,” she informed me, and when the words hit me, the events rushed through me like a tidal wave. Gasping, I held the area where the wound was patched up. It was on my pelvis, slightly to the right. The bandage stretched to my hip bone.
My breathing picked up as the memories rushed to me. She was screaming so loudly. Her eyes were so wild. The blade was so sharp.
“Oh, God,” I breathed. “W-where is she? Where’s Cane?”
“Kandy, sweetie. Calm down, please.”
“No—where is he? Is he okay?” I demanded, and Mom’s eyes softened before flashing over to the left. I looked with her and realized Dad was standing by the door.
“Is it true that Kelly did this?” she whispered, voice breaking. “Did she attack you?”
“Y-yes. I remember. She came for me with a knife.”
“Oh my God.” Mom shoved a hand through her hair. “We thought Cane was making things up. He’s in custody for questioning right now. I just don’t understand why she’d do such a thing after telling us to be wary of Cane. I knew I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions!”
“He’s in custody? No, you have to tell them he didn’t do it! Call them, Dad!” I demanded, focusing on him. “I’ll testify myself. He didn’t do anything!”
“Are you sure about that?” Dad took a step closer, and I couldn’t understand why he was frowning. I had literally been stabbed and he was looking at me like he hated me. “Did he know and needed a way for you to get rid of it?”
“W-what?” I asked, scowling.
“Is this why you really left?” Dad’s voice boomed.
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“How long have you known, Kandy?” he barked, demanding an answer, but I had no clue what the hell he was even talking about.
“Derek!” Mom warned, giving him a not-so-subtle glare. “Not. Now,” she gritted through her teeth.
“What is going on?” I demanded. “How long have I known what? That Kelly was crazy?”
“No!” His voice made me feel small. “That you were pregnant, Kandy!”
His words seemed to make the whole room vibrate. My heart plummeted, and Mom sucked in a sharp breath, as if she were bracing for a flood to break through the dam.
“Pregnant?” My voice broke. “But I—I’m not pregnant. How?”
“What do you mean how? By having sex, that’s how—and with the wrong fucking people!” Dad snapped.
I was losing it. Maybe I was in a coma and having a terrible, terrible dream. There was no way I could have been pregnant. My mind raced to the days and weeks before. I hadn’t felt sick at all, or fatigued, none of the things I’d read about. I was fine.