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“Where is Sofia?” Mr. Marcano asks as he eyes the shotgun in my hand. “Is she okay?”
“She’s a little battered and bruised. A tad shaken up. But she’s resting right now.”
“And what about you?” His eyes gaze down my body, and I suddenly wish I had a shirt to hide the claw marks Sofia left over my chest and back.
“I…I’m fine,” I stammer as I stow the shotgun in the corner, next to my clothes from last night before zipping up my pants. “I wasn’t downstairs…I mean, I wasn’t there when it happened.”
Not downstairs?
Why don’t you just tell them that it’s because you were still upstairs?
In her apartment?
While they pass a knowing glance between them, neither of them says a word about me being in her apartment half-dressed or the fact that I’m fucking Sofia.
It has to be glaringly obvious to them both.
“Pipe-bombing a car in broad daylight isn’t exactly a subtle threat,” Mr. Ramirez chimes in. “That was a fucking hit on her life.”
“She’s been getting these.” I lift the paper from the table by the door and hand it to Mr. Ramirez. “It was on her door. She’s been getting them for d?—”
“Gabriel,” Sofia’s voice echoes through the room as she scolds me like a child.
“You can be angry with me,” I huff as I scowl at her, “but you swore that you would tell them today.”
“Jesus, Sofia!” Mr. Marcano exclaims when he sees her battered appearance.
“I’m fine, Alejandro,” she huffs, tightening her robe as her bare feet pad across the hardwood floor. “I’ve only received a few of them. I just assumed it was an idle threat.”
“There are no idle threats in our line of work,” he replies. “I have more men guarding my family at all times than I can count because there is always someone coming to take what is yours. And someone is determined to take the Guerrero Cartel back from you.”
“So, what now?”
“Do you know how to use that thing?” Alejandro gestures toward the shotgun in the corner.
“I do,” I nod. “My father taught me when I was a boy.”
“And this?” He pulls a handgun from the back of his pants and holds it out to me.
“Yes.” I take it from his hand and hold it at my side.
“The two of you don’t leave, and no one enters this apartment that isn’t one of us.” He gestures between himself and Mr. Ramirez. “You don’t leave her side. And no matter what, no one gets to her. We’ll go see what we can find out.”
“Understood,” I respond as the two of them leave almost as abruptly as they arrived.
I’ll protect her with my fucking life.
“He can’t protect you tied to the bed, Sofia,” Andres snickers over his shoulder as he pulls the door shut behind him.
A smile cracks on her face—the first I’ve seen since this morning—as she claps back, “It’s a good fucking thing I know how to protect myself then, isn’t it?”
twenty two
SOFIA
“Shouldn’t you be in my bed?” My tone a mixture of sincerity and flirtatiousness. “I believe your words were, ‘I’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.’”
“Shit!” he gasps, not nearly as under his breath as intended. “I thought you were sleeping.”
