As if this child understood my silent questions, she drew a tiny hand out of her swaddling blanket and reached toward me. Impossible. She didn’t know me. I was just a stranger staring through a window. My head knew that. But the heart I swore I no longer had seized in my chest.
Because suddenly, I was no longer looking at my daughter. I gazed into the eyes of my wife as time reversed, and the hospital walls around me faded into the loud walls of a Houston cantina.
Almost three years ago
Catching my eye, a wicked smirk lifted the corners of her mouth as she placed her forearms on the bar and leaned in close enough for me to catch the scent of citrus and vanilla. It was a bizarre combination that lit a heated trail straight from my nose to my dick.
“So, you got a name, Danger?”
“Danger?” I tried for a flat tone, but my voice raised an octave, betraying my interest.
Damn.
“Yeah, you know…as in, tall, dark, and dangerous?” She squinted her pale blue eyes and silenced an incoming text on her phone. “You look like you could get a girl in a lot of trouble.”
I wanted nothing more than to wipe that damn grin off her face. She looked so smug. So sure I wanted her.
Fuck, I wanted her.
“You have no idea.”
Moments passed between us as we stared at each other in silence. That shock of red hair grabbed my attention again, and I couldn’t help but wonder who, or what, happened in her life to cause it. Nobody just did shit like that on purpose. Candy-red colored hair didn’t just happen. It pissed me off that I even cared. I wasn’t a good guy. I wasn’t even a decent guy. I didn’t ask girls their names, much less their stories.
“So, that’s it?” she asked, chin tilted and one hand resting on a cocked hip.
Shit, had she been talking to me this whole time? “What’s it?” I asked, trying to seem bored.
“You really have no name?”
I shot her a pointed look, mentally slamming the door on her inquisition. “Danger works. I like it.”
I did. I liked it too damn much. And I hated nicknames. I thought they were childish and reserved for those annoying assholes who sat on the same side of the booth at restaurants.
“Of course, you do,” she snorted in an unladylike, but oddly sexy way.
The bar started to get crowded, as patrons shoved bills toward her and demanded drinks. I watched them curiously, wondering what she’d do. To my pleasure, she held up a finger to them and kept her eyes on me.
Those eyes were what did it. Those pale blue eyes that tried to hide exhaustion exposed by the dark circles under them and sadness well beyond her years. They sucked me in and broke one of my cardinal rules. “What about your name?”
“Hey, what about my drink? You think you could take a break from your date over there to do your job, honey?”
Her eyes flickered relief for a moment, then darkened, becoming void of emotion. “Duty calls. Glad I could meet your expectations, Danger.” She reached for the shot glass I held, and I grabbed her hand, my out-of-character reaction surprising both of us. Hesitating a moment, she lifted her eyes and met mine in a battle of wills.
I could tell we were both at war with what would happen next. I contemplated the consequences of fucking one of Emilio’s employees. He seemed fond of this one, and the moment it was over, I’d have no choice but to have her fired.
Shifting her weight, she made the decision for both of us when she released her hand from my grip and pointed toward the douchebag two seats down, now glaring at us. “Let me know if you want another.”
As she poured a gin and tonic for the asshole who cock blocked me, I pulled three, twenty-dollar bills out of my wallet and placed them face down on the bar. The exorbitant tip wasn’t a handout, as I suspected she’d think after I left. I genuinely enjoyed her company. Which was exactly why I had to leave and never talk to her again.
She called me dangerous. If I was dangerous, she was fucking deadly.
Present day
“She looks just like Eden.”
I blinked away the memory, the powerful scent of her vanilla and citrus perfume still lingering in the air. I didn’t answer Mateo. It wasn’t a question. Even if it was, he already knew the answer.
“Adriana is all right,” he continued. “The doctor just wants to keep her overnight as a precaution to monitor her kidney function. Brody made it out of surgery. The bullet missed his spine by inches, and the idiota has a guardian angel because it also missed hitting his kidney by a fucking heartbeat. He has a long road ahead, but he’s going to be okay, thanks to Vergara.”
I clenched my jaw at the name.
Mateo sighed. “Val, we need to talk about…”
“The Russian?”
I saw him raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye. “Ava will be fine,” he said, stressing her name.
I knew her damn name. I also knew what he was doing, and I didn’t appreciate it. Personalizing them wouldn’t fix anything. Saying their names wouldn’t make things better or right.
Ava was an ally. I no longer had allies. She was just a Russian.
His gaze settled through the window. “Looks like they were gunning for the seats of power.”
“Casualties?”
“Rafael Suárez didn’t make it.” I almost winced. “I think,” he added.
“You think?”
His jaw shifted side to side, and I heard his teeth grinding. Mateo didn’t react with emotion. He was too calculating—too cautious. But I knew him too well. When the man wanted to take a swing at me, he corralled his anger by sawing his teeth. “Val, there were so many charred pieces of men strewn across your lawn, I wouldn’t know Suárez from Lopez. All I know is that he’s gone.”
Callous as fuck, but that was the cartel way. Death came swift and sometimes in a manner unbefitting a man as loyal as Rafael. I’d preferred to have buried him, but what was done was done. It was shitty to die so young, but he was probably better off than any of us.
At least his torture was over.
“The Italians ambushed him at the gate,” he said gravely. “A handful of Santiago’s men are dead as well as seven politicians and at least three other syndicate bosses.”
The Italians.
In the eight hours I’d stalked the halls of Hospital Médica Sur, I’d also kept eyes on Dante Santiago. I was furious enough after hearing he stole my car, but the killer in me roared upon learning the ambush on my estate had come from a third party.
One very invested in eradicating everyone in attendance.
“What’s the status?”
“Total annihilation,” he deadpanned without missing a beat. When I slid a narrowed gaze at him, he raised both eyebrows, his forehead creasing. “Don’t act like you’re shocked.”
“He works fast.”
“Ricci’s former ass kissers shot at his wife. New York’s lucky it’s still standing.”
“So, what now?”
Mateo’s gaze followed the nurse’s every move as she busied herself refolding already crisply laundered blankets. “Santiago took his shot and moved in. He’s got New York on lockdown. It’s his, Val. It’s over.”