Page 65 of Death

“Stay with Ciara,” I order before I shove the door open and climb out. I open the trunk, and pulling a machine gun from it, I check the clip before I jog to where two of the fuckers are crawling out of the wrecked car. Only needing one of them alive, I fire a few rounds into the man, who’s trying to crawl through the back window of the wreck.

Samuel takes out a man I didn’t see on the other side of the car, then shouts, “Only the one on your side is left.”

I keep the machine gun aimed at him as I stalk closer, and just as I reach him, he tries to lift his hand that’s gripping apistol. I kick the weapon from his hand, then crouch in front of him and press the barrel to his head.

Seeing the tattoo on his neck, I don’t have to ask who he works for. “Bring me a knife, Samuel.”

When my soldier holds his K-Bar out to me, I rise to my feet and hand him the machine gun. “Keep it aimed at him.” While Samuel carries out the order, I pin the fucker down into the dirt and keep his head in place with my knee before I begin to slice the tattoo from his neck, making sure not to hit an artery. I don’t want him to bleed out.

“Tell that fucking coward you work for I’m coming for him next,” I give him the message, and getting up, I toss the slice of skin in front of his face.

Stepping away from the groaning man, who’s stopping the bleeding with his hand pressed to his neck, I glance down the road and ask, “Did we lose anyone?”

“No. Eladio took a bullet, but we can take care of it on the yacht,” Samuel informs me.

I hand him the knife, and taking the machine gun from him, I mutter, “Let’s get out of here.”

I walk to the SUV, and place the weapon back in the trunk, then search for a cloth so I can wipe my hands clean.

Pedro meets me at the back, holding out a bottle of water. “It’s old, but it will do the trick.”

I quickly rinse the blood off, and grinning at Pedro, I pat my hands dry on his shoulders.

He just stares at me, then asks, “Rojas’ men?”

“Yes. Keep an eye on Javier’s houses in Colombia and Puerto Rico. He’s next on the list.”

“You know someone else will just take his place,” Pedro says.

I shoot him a scowl before slamming the trunk shut and walking to the back door. Getting in beside Ciara, it’s to see hercowering between the seats, her hands covering her face, and my gun lying on the seat.

“Ciara,” I say, keeping my tone gentle. I take hold of her hands and pull them away from her face. Seeing the blank expression she gets when she checks out, I grumble, “Fuck.” I take hold of her and pull her out of the tight space before settling her on my lap.

I engulf her with my body, and pressing my hand to the side of her head, I say, “You’re safe. It’s over.” I begin to rock her gently and keep repeating the words until I hear her breathing change.

I duck my head to the side to see her face. “Better?”

She yanks away from me, then accidentally touches the gun and jerks her arms to her chest.

I quickly grab the weapon and shove it back into the waistband of my pants before holding my hands up in front of me. “You’re safe, Ciara.”

Her eyes dart to my hands, then her head whips around to look out the window, but I grab hold of her to stop her. “There’s nothing for you to see out there.”

“You…you…you,” she stammers, fear tightening her features. “You killed him. You cut that man’s…”

Her breaths start coming too fast, and I lean closer. “Just breathe with me. Deep in. Slow out.” It takes a moment for me to calm her down, then I say, “They’re cartel members. It was either them or us.”

She nods, showing that she understands what I’m telling her, then she darts forward and plows into my chest. Wrapping my arms around her, I glance at Pedro. “Let’s go.”

When he steers the SUV back onto the road, I pull Ciara back onto my lap again and cradle her against my chest.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I apologize.

It’s the last thing I wanted.

Ciara frees her arms from between us and circles them around my neck, pressing her face against my neck.

Instantly, my eyes drift shut, and I’m overcome with intense emotions. I move a hand to the back of her head and grip a fistful of her hair, my body shuddering from how good it feels to hold her like this.

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