“No, she doesn’t, but my brother’s daughter does.”
It’s not true. He’s stalling for time again. But the smirk drops from Fernandez’s face so fast I reckon we’ll be needing one less bullet tonight.
“What daughter?” he demands. “What is this trickery?”
“I thought you two would have been introduced.” Dante leans forward and plants his elbows on the table in front of him, adding a gravitas to his lie. “After all, she’s been enjoying your hospitality for the last twenty-four hours.”
“Hijueputa, you liar!” blusters Fernandez, his composure slipping.
“So, in a fucked-up way, a Santiago did shoot you son dead, after all,” muses Dante, tossing his word bomb at Fernandez’s red face.
“Malparidos! Bring them out!” he bellows.
There’s movement in the shadows in front of us.
Anna.
One of Fernandez’s men shoves her toward us. Her mouth and hands are bound, but her eyes are liquid fire. I know that conviction. I killed for it. I restored it. She’s been here before, and she knows she can survive it.
Viviana’s the same. Her two fireballs of fury are working overtime tonight. Her natural Santiago arrogance is starting to emerge.
Together, they make a formidable pair. I watch them shrug their captor’s hands away. I can hear their silent curses in my head. They've killed together; they've faced their fears together. A bond like that binds two lives together forever.
Fernandez’s sicarios manhandle them toward the table and force them into the two spare seats at opposite ends. At the same time, I feel the muzzle of a PKM machine gun ramming into the small of my back as another sicario sticks his gun in Dante’s face.
Kalashnikovs. Russian. There’s no need to guess which side of Fernandez’s fucking family they came from.
“I thought you were giving us a choice with the women?” says Dante, re-crossing his legs.
“I’ve changed my mind, señor,” sneers Fernandez. “As for the house, I’ll be taking it anyway and putting all the runaway putas back to work.”
“Then what the hell is this?” Glancing at Anna, I watch her gaze shift to the rings around my neck. Her eyes widen before jerking up to meet mine again.
“This?” Fernandez waves his hand between the girls like he’s the ringmaster introducing the first act. “This is justice.”
A bad feeling starts chewing up my insides as two 9mm Berettas are brought to the table. He releases both magazines in turn, removing the cartridges until only one is left in each before slapping them back into place. At the same time, the cable ties are cut from Anna and Viviana’s wrists.
“Both these bitches deserve to die for what they did to Alberto, but the choice is in their hands now.” He leans back in his chair to enjoy the show. “Will it be love or will it be family who takes the crown?”
At a click of his fingers, his men slide the guns across the table—one in Anna’s direction and the other in Viviana’s. They skid to a halt right in front of them. “One bullet each,” he explains silkily. “First one to fire wins their freedom.”
This wasn't in the script.
Even so, the women are eerily calm in their acceptance…and that’s when it hits me. There’s no way in hell they’re going to point those guns at each other and pull the triggers. Fernandez has underestimated them as his peril. Their bond is too fucking strong for that.
“Dante,” I mutter, and the Kalashnikov screws deeper into my back. I see the slight nod of his head, and I know he’s read the play too.
“Pick up the guns, putas,” orders Fernandez. As an extra incentive he picks up his own and points it in our direction, swinging the muzzle between us as if he’s a ticking kill clock. “The longer you leave it, the quicker these men will die.”
Anna and Viviana do as he says. My Luna isn’t looking at me anymore. She’s staring straight at her friend.
“Three…” Fernandez’s voice rises in excitement.
“Two…” Both girls take aim; their fingers steady on the triggers. If Fernandez was expecting a beg-fest, they’re denying him the thrill.
“One!”
It’s fucking poetry how both Berettas turn in his direction at the same time. It’s sexy as hell when both bullets eviscerate Fernandez’s face together. A beat later, I’m jabbing my elbow into the jaw of the man behind me, and seizing his machine gun. One glance reassures me that Dante has done the same, and then I see him reach for his watch.
“Get under the fucking table!” I roar at Anna as bullets explode all around us. She and Viviana dive for cover, ripping at the material around their faces as the final act plays out.
The bombs our team laid at the front entrance to the house detonate like raucous applause. The riad collapses like a house of cards; the men from the balconies tumbling to the ground with screams and falling masonry.
“Time to move.” I grab Anna’s hand and drag her toward the remains of the front entrance, as our team moves in past us to secure the area.
A fleet of black SUVs are waiting for us outside. I throw the girls into one and jump in after. Dante takes the passenger seat. We're hitting the highway in a matter of minutes.
“Nice shooting, darlin’,” I drawl tucking Anna into my side, relief filtering into my lungs when I feel her soft warmth burrowing into me.
“I figured that’s what bad girls should do,” she says grinning up at me. “Aim for the head and never hesitate, just like you told me.”
I glance across at Viviana. “You did well.”
She nods, throwing a worried look in Dante’s direction. “Have I made up for shooting you yet?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that one.” I pull Anna onto my knee and reacquaint myself with orange blossom and vanilla.
“Well, it’s stopped me wanting to rip your fucking throat out,” growls Dante from the front suddenly. He turns and regards his niece with a coolness bordering on cold, hard respect. “Grayson’s right. You did well in there. I still don't trust you or the polluted blood in your veins, but there’s a part of you that fell on the right side of the family tree tonight.”
A silent acknowledgment passes between them, but I’m more interested in the soft fingers curling around my neck. I watch as Anna slides my chain out from underneath my black shirt and stares at the two golden rings that keep catching in the moonlight.
“I remembered.” She snags my gaze and holds it. “I finally remembered the promise you made to me that night.” I watch as her smile fights through the pain as her worst memory collides with something better. Much better. Something that has been my whole universe since I freed her from a cage. “I see you, Joseph Grayson,” she says softly, closing her fist tight around them. “I see you, and I want you… And I’m here to claim you right back.”
32
Anna
Six Months Ago
My cage is a prism reflecting light. For the girl who’s trapped inside, it’s dull, dirty and squalid. But beyond my bars it’s a rainbow of color. I’m in a room; an elegant room with exposed brickwork and crystal chandeliers. Bi-fold doors are spanning the length of one wall, offering up the space to an unfamiliar skyline. It looks European, but no one tells me anything anymore. Elegant people circulate around the elegant room. It’s all so goddamn elegant.