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Nodding, I draw my hand away from the warmth of her touch, pull on my sunglasses, and shove a ball cap over my head. Isadora does the same before tucking the long, dark lengths of her hair into the back of her oversized hoodie.
Walking hand in hand toward the front of the outdoor seating area of the café, we look like any other couple, wandering the streets and taking in the sights. When we reach the café, I tugout a chair for Isadora and she sits opposite Diego. I pull out the chair beside her and take a seat.
After we’ve ordered coffees, Diego leans forward, elbows on the table as he scrutinizes Isadora as though he’s taking stock of her features. “Take the sunglasses off,” he demands, voice low.
Is that concern I hear in his tone?Too fuckin’ late for that, asshole.I ignore Diego and focus on Isadora. I place a hand on her arm. “Don’t.”
When Diego narrows his eyes at me, I glare right back at him through my dark tinted sunglasses. “Bit fuckin’ late to care about her wellbeing now, isn’t it?”
He huffs in disgust before picking up his tiny-ass glass of espresso and taking a sip. Arms crossed over my chest, I ask, “You got what I need or not?”
He nods slightly and slides a large, manilla envelope across the table. “What you asked for.” He turns his attention to Isadora again. “I hope you know what you’re doing. If Father finds out, he’ll—”
Surprising me, Isadora leans forward, jarring the table as she raises her hand and cuts Diego off, “I’m not a child anymore. I haven’t been in alongtime.”
Diego’s wince is something I recognize. His little sister has grown up. He likely doesn’t want to think about the way her innocence was stolen while he stood by and did nothing. “I’m no longer his slave. Those girls…” She hesitates before she clears her throat and continues, “What he’s doing is wrong, it needs to end, and if you won’t help us…” Isadora releases a heavy sigh then shakes her head. “It has to end, Diego.”
Diego’s gaze shifts to a car across the street, his eyes narrow before he shakes his head slightly and focuses on Isadora again.
I discreetly glance in the same direction, and finding nothing, I return my attention back to the table where Diego’s hand is flattened over his sister’s.
A single tear rolls down her cheek from beneath the dark, oversized sunglasses she wears.
“I’m so damn sorry I didn’t protect you… He just—”he chokes out.
Seeing his struggle to find the words, Isadora turns her hands over, palms facing up, and says, “I know… I know.”
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of my lip as I lift my coffee to my mouth.
Three things happen in quick succession.
One.A gunshot rings out, blasting through the ambient sound of conversations and the clinking of cutlery and dishes.
Two.A bullet tears through Diego Santos’ forehead and crimson blood splatters my face, the table, and Isadora.
Three.Isadora lets out a blood curdling scream.
I hear the sound of screeching tires as I leap over Isadora’s body and slam her down to the concrete.
“Stay down,” I growl against her ear, but she’s still screaming, and around me, dozens of footsteps pound the pavement.
“Someone call nine-one-one!” a man shouts.
“He’s dead,” someone else says. “Oh fuck, he’s dead.”
Isadora lets out a pained wail.
Sucking in a breath, I swipe the blood off my face with the back of my hand. We need to get out of here before the cops arrive. I get to my knees, check my back for where my gun is tucked into my jeans, and swipe the strands of bloody hair back from Isadora’s equally bloody face. “Come on, baby. We gotta move.”
She chokes on each sob that leaves her now pale lips. “Di—Diego?”
Fuckfuckfuck!There’s no way she didn’t just witness her brother’s head exploding like a fucking watermelon.Instead of stating the obvious, I press my hands to her cheeks as she panics. “We’re going to run and you’re going to stay with me, you understand?”
On unsteady feet, and with her hand clasped in mine, Isadora runs alongside me as we bolt toward the parking lot. In the distance, sirens ring out as people crowd the streets.
Back in the SUV, Isadora is hyperventilating, each heaving breath causes her chest to rise and fall more rapidly. Tiny gasps of air leave her lips as her eyes dart around, unable to focus.
“Isadora, listen to me, you need to focus. Focus on my breathing, okay?” I say urgently.
