Page 109 of Arranged

There was no disguising the sound of gunfire. Maria grabbed Jessica, pulling the little girl into her lap. Thankfully, Jessica didn’t shout or cry. She merely sat with a terrified look in her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

And she whispered a single word that would haunt me for months to come.

“Daddy.”

* * *

Alejandro

I dropped and rolled, barely avoiding being shot. I jerked to the right, firing off two shots of my own. After scrambling to my feet, I lunged forward.

The fucker went down hard while another flew into the living room with his gun raised. I was too close to him to get off a decent shot, instead smashing his head with a lamp. The room went dark and the man issued a hard grunting sound.

But he didn’t go down.

I powered a series of punches into his face and abdomen, buying a few seconds as his body was pitched backward. Without hesitation, I leveled him by issuing a single shot into his skull. For some reason, he was still wearing a smile as he fell backward onto the hardwood floor.

With two down, the third yet to make his appearance, I shoved my body against a wall so I could check the status of the ammunition.

After slapping the magazine back into place, I shifted closer to the kitchen, immediately turning out a light.

While there was no clear indication of who the men were working for, their technique indicated DEA or another agency. Although I wouldn’t place a huge bet on it at this point.

There were too many questions still up in the air.

Why would the DEA come after me? Unless they’d been told I was the one who’d gone rogue. Had Louis double-crossed me, getting himself killed in the process? I’d weed through the shit later.

I shifted into the kitchen, hugging the wall. With my vision becoming used to the darkness, I crept toward the small den, hoping to corner the fucker. They’d checked the house at least once, ready to tear it apart. From what I could tell, Maria had tried to make it look like she’d left in a hurry, but men like them weren’t easily fooled.

At least at this point, all three were safe.

I crouched lower, hearing a single noise coming from the other side of the wall. With the weapon in both hands, I lifted and bent my arms, waiting as patiently as possible.

A slight creak of the floorboards allowed me to suck in my breath. When the fucker slipped past the doorway, I attacked, first smashing the weapon across his head.

He stumbled backward, a wild shot firing because of his itchy trigger finger. I kicked him hard before lowering my weapon and turning on the light.

He tried to jerk up until he realized there was a barrel of a weapon inches away from his face. At least his weapon spun out of his control. I kicked it away and took a step back.

“I’m going to ask you a single question one time only. You answer it and do so correctly, I’ll let you live. Who are you working for?” I didn’t recognize his face, but that meant nothing. There were approximately forty-six hundred special operatives with thousands of other support personnel within the organization.

He glanced around me, likely realizing he wasn’t getting any backup. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Identify yourself.” The two words indicated I was uncertain what line I was walking or working on. That alone gave the fucker time to lunge forward.

I was forced to make a choice.

I fired.

Pop! Pop!

Almost in slow motion he dropped to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as the life faded from his eyes.

I’d shot him in the chest, not what I usually did when handling Santorelli business. Reaching down, I ripped open his jacket.

He was wearing a bulletproof vest. However, one of the bullets had pierced it, the angle driving through at least one vital organ.

Sighing, I took a step backwards, leaning against the wall. The shit had just gotten real. I didn’t give a crap how or why I’d been compromised. The fact I had told had my mind shifting gears.

---