Page 21 of Bastard
“Luciana,” Tight-Lipped warns.
“He deserves a heads-up.” I pause to slip my gun back into my pants while choosing my words carefully. “My brother can be frightening.”
Tight-Lipped grunts in agreement.
“Even if he questions you, don’t answer. Let me deal with Diego.”
Tight-Lipped jerks like I shot him in the leg. “Who?”
I frown. “My brother.”
“Diego.” His eyes widen. “Diego Murillo de Romero?”
“Yes.”
His gaze dips down then quickly back up. “Jesus Christ. Shit, shit, shit.” He slams his fist into the driver’s seat headrest. “Stay put,” he barks before jumping out of the car.
Mouth open, I watch him retrieve a small black cell phone from his pocket.
Used for emergency-only calls.
To someone who is clearlynotDiego ...
Trouble. He said I would be trouble. Mierda. Mierda. Mierda.
“Luciana. What’s happening?” Donovan demands.
No. It can’t be.
I scramble across the seat and exit the car. Horns blare. Cars slow. And I run, dashing through traffic as I weave my way up the road.
Men shout behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, the six men who’d been waiting for us are now bearing down on me. A furious Tight-Lipped is right behind them. And trailing far, far behind them all is Donovan.
I don’t stop. I can’t. My mind is reeling with the ugly possibilities, in perfect cadence with my wildly racing heart.
Why now? What could he possibly want with me?
I bear off to my right, exiting the roadway in favor of the sidewalk.
Bad decision.
My foot catches in a crack. I tumble forward, going down hard, landing on all fours, the cement sidewalk painfully connecting with my knees and the outspread palms of my hands.
Before I can scramble up, one of his men catches hold of me. I’m grabbed from behind and hauled into the air. On instinct, I kick backward and send my heel into his groin.
He drops me with a curse, and then I’m running once more. Tight-Lipped shouts, “Stop!” But before I can understand his order isn’t directed at me, something hard connects with my head.
Pain shoots throughout my body as I fall to my knees. The sun’s suddenly too bright to bear.
A commotion erupts from behind me. Men swearing. Fists connecting. Tight-Lipped shouting.
My world spins then darkens.
“Say your prayers now, dickwad.” Tight-Lipped’s voice is far away, though his faint words ring wildly within my mind. “For when he finds out what you’ve done.”
He finds out.
Him.
