“Give me back my gun!” I yelled. “And what the hell is a rattle room?” He didn’t answer. His back was already turned as he walked away, swallowed into the thinning but still hysterical crowd. When the guard started toward a door near the corner of the room, I did the only thing I could think of. I went limp and became one hundred and twenty-seven pounds of dead weight.
He dragged me two feet before turning to glare at me. “You think I won’t throw your ass over my shoulder, puta?” I pinched my lips together and glared right back at him. Sighing, he bent down, scooping me up like I weighed nothing and tossed me over his shoulder. “Now shut up, or I’ll gag you. Jefe’s orders.”
I lifted my head, a cold numbness spreading through me as I took in the destruction and carnage. The room that moments ago was alive with the scent of desire now smelled metallic, a stench fueled by blood and revenge. Death never bothered me before, but as I watched Brody and Cristiano grow smaller and smaller with every step, my heart lodged in my throat
I couldn’t leave them.
I struggled, beating my fists against his back, but the harder I hit, the tighter his grip became. “Let me go!”
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
He laughed. “Yeah, right.”
I sighed. “Have it your way.”
I had long legs. They came in handy during strenuous physical activities like running, rock climbing or kicking a man in the balls while hanging upside down.
Plus, they looked great in heels.
Bracing my hands on his back and my knee against his stomach, I swung my foot as hard as I could and prayed. His muffled grunt was my only warning before we both hit the floor. Luckily, my hands took the brunt of my fall, and I quickly got to my feet, leaving him groaning on his knees.
Brody and Cristiano stood back to back, guns firing when I ran toward them. Cristiano saw me a fraction of a moment too late. I pulled my fist back and swung, his head snapping back with the force of my momentum.
Damn, that hurt.
He grabbed his chin. “What the fuck?”
“Give me my gun.” I half expected him to argue, but to my surprise he dug inside his jacket and dropped it my waiting hand. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll shoot your dick off and shove it up your ass.”
He glanced at Brody. “Is she like this all the time?”
“Yep.” Brody shrugged, and his face contorted in pain. That was when I noticed the sheen of sweat coating his forehead and the rip in the arm of his shirt.
“What’s wrong with you?” I didn’t wait for an answer. My hands were on him despite multiple attempts to push me away. I prodded at the hole, my fingers coating in warm, sticky wetness. “Dios mío, you’re bleeding!”
He’d been shot, and I wasn’t here to prevent it.
Brody gently held my wrist. “Adriana, stop. A bullet grazed my arm. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing!” I yelled, a foreign panic tearing through me. “You could’ve been killed! Do you think about anybody but yourself?” Gasping for air, I braced my hands on my thighs and looked up to see both men staring at me like they’d encountered an untamed animal in the wild.
Shit.
Avoiding their eyes, I stood and cleared my throat. “Status.”
Cristiano nodded. “They were definitely Muñoz. Five of them. Two at the entrance, one at the bar, and two at the east and west side of the dance floor. Three confirmed dead, one ran like a little bitch. I’ve got men on him now.”
“And the fifth?”
The two men exchanged glances. “That’s why we’re still shooting.”
“But you’re an associate. Why would they turn on you like this?”
He steadied his eyes on the entrance, then, drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled hard and leveled a stare at me. “I’ve told you, Mari. Information comes with a price.”
Deep down, I already knew it, but it still cut deep to hear the words. “They came for me and sacrificed you.” For the first time, I really saw what I caused by coming here. The blood, the death, the bodies. The dozens of lives lost because of a last name that was never even mine to start with. “All these people…” I swallowed, glancing up at Brody, guilt washing over me in a sickening red wave. “We have to go.”
“Adriana,” he said, his tone cautious. “If they found us here, they can find us anywhere. We can’t go back to the stash house. That’ll be the first place they look.”
“I have a place you can go to.” We both turned toward Cristiano, still rubbing his now swollen jaw. “No one knows about it, not even my own men.” He shot me a pointed look. “You know the code.”
Brody stiffened beside me, and I blew out a breath. I knew the place Cristiano referred to, and he was right. I did know the code. I knew it because I chose it, and the thought of being there with Brody sent my heart free falling into my stomach.
Then reality arrived with a sharp reminder. “I don’t think…” I winced, blowing out a painful breath. “I mean, I have to go…”
Cristiano held up a hand. “It’s okay. I have you covered. There’s still plenty—”
“Perfect!” Taking Brody’s hand, I rushed toward the entrance before he said anything else. “We’ll go now.” Glancing back, I nodded toward his gun. “Got my back?”
I blinked, confused at the hint of sadness that flashed in his eyes.
“Always.”
Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico
After I convinced Brody to wait until tomorrow to call Val with an update, we drove in silence for an hour in the rain before reaching Cristiano’s Lake Chapala house. As soon as the stone staircase came into view, I tensed. I spent sixty minutes steeling myself for Brody’s reaction, but still cringed when I heard the low, what the fuck muttered under his breath.
I could’ve prepared him, but what was the use? It was going to be a fight regardless—one which I preferred not to have at sixty miles per hour.
And one we still hadn’t had half an hour later.
At least, not about that.
“I told you it’s fine,” he growled.
“And I told you even flesh wounds can cause gangrene if they’re not cleaned. Now shut up and let me look at it.”
It was a little extreme, but he was being unreasonable. We were too close to uncovering the truth for him to die from septic shock and a petulant male ego. Plus, I could tell by his parted lips and labored breath he was in more pain than he let on.
Groaning, he slumped onto the three thin steps dividing the kitchen from the living room, slamming his feet onto the bottom step, and hooking his elbow onto his knee. It wasn’t exactly an open invitation, but knowing Brody, it was the closest I’d get.
I rummaged through the kitchen in search of a first-aid kit, flinging open cabinets and cursing Cristiano’s name and still coming up empty. Frustrated, I collapsed against the counter and scrubbed my hands down my face.
Could one damn thing go right tonight? I’d already gotten a few dozen people killed. All I wanted was a bandage and some fucking antiseptic. Was that too much to ask? Tipping my head back, I pressed my palm against my forehead and twisted a handful of my hair between my fingers.