Page 73 of Veiled Vengeance

“We’re not giving you a choice in this anymore,” Gabriel declares in an authoritative tone. “I’m not going to repeat myself again.Tú nos perteneces.”You belong to us.

Fuck.

This is not going to go well.

CHAPTER 31

ASHER

Extending my feet in front of me, I try to make myself comfortable in the hospital chair. Spencer adjusts with me, leaning her head on my shoulder. Zane sits on the other side of Spencer, her hand in his lap. Rio is trying to portray a calm demeanor, but his arms are crossed and his foot bounces like crazy.

Zane watches Rio with concern. “Elena already told us that Carmen is okay. I’m sure we’ll be cleared to see her soon.”

“Thosecabrónsget to be in there with her—I don’t see why I can’t. I’m her damn brother.”

We’ve been in the waiting room for hours while Carmen and fucking Gabriel underwent emergency surgery. When we came down from the office of Euphoria, Rio lost his mind. He went even crazier when we discovered that Pierce had gotten away. Zane called up the NYPD immediately and sent squad cars to all the small local airports, including Teterboro, where we knew Anthony’s plane was sitting in a hangar. A BOLO was put out for Pierce, but no dice so far.

The NYPD and FBI are under the impression that we colluded with the MS-13 to take down a major player and expand MS-13 territory. Only half true, but they’ll never figure thatout. Our official story is that we went into a hostage situation in which we believed we’d have a better outcome if we didn’t involve law enforcement, and the MS-13 just so happened to be there.

Zane and I got angry calls from our superiors. Zane has been suspended for one week, and I have been suspended for two.

Our plan went to shit the moment Pierce put his hands on Carmen. I knew Gabriel, Diego, and Mateo wouldn’t be able to hold themselves back for long. But when Spencer surprised me and took off after Anthony, a million different scenarios played through my mind, and none of them ended with Spencer breathing. A huge part of our success is attributed to luck.

Some civilians were killed in the crossfire, but that’s the reality of war.

“How are you doing, Princess?”

Spencer peers up at me, a motion that will always make my cock twitch. “Honestly? I’m tired. I want to slip into a medically-induced coma and not wake up for at least a month.”

Zane snorts. “Then you better get caffeine in an IV because I have lots of plans for you, and none of them include sleeping.”

“They better include foot massages and comfort food,” Spencer threatens.

The doors to the waiting room open as Dahlia, Hayes, Kieran, and the three kids step in. Margaret dashes as fast as her small strides can take her straight to Zane and she wraps her arms around his neck. August stands in between Hayes and Dahlia, holding each of their hands. Kieran urges Noah forward gently.

“Did you find my mommy, cop man?” Margaret questions Zane with a head tilt.

“I believe we did. Want me to take you to her?”

Margaret’s eyes light up. “She’s here? Yes! Yes, please! Now! Let’s go now.” She scrambles to her feet and drags Zane by his hand out the door.

Spencer approaches Noah calmly. “Your mom is here too. Would you like to see her?”

Noah pinches his lips together as he refrains from letting his tears fall. “Yes, please.”

Spencer nods her head and guides Noah out of the waiting room and into the hall. My instinct is to follow her and make sure nothing happens on their short walk to Raven’s room, but I hold myself still and soothe my anxiety with the fact that it’s over. It’s all over.

After all of Anthony and Pierce’s men were rounded up, we found all the dancers in a dressing room locked from the outside. Two of them, Raven and Mya, asked about their kids when they finally believed me when I told them that I was FBI and that they were safe.

We ushered them into an ambulance, and Rio demanded that they be taken to St. Barnabas to be treated by Elena. She and her nurse were able to reassure each of the trafficked women that they were safe and free. Many sobbed, some still don’t believe us, and a few insisted they be released immediately. The last group was the one with track marks up and down their arms.

Dahlia leads Hayes and August to some chairs on the opposite side of the room and then approaches me. “Is he dead?”

“Yes.” I don’t need clarification to know who she’s talking about.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. It’s over.”

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