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He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Bullet much too close to my heart. I had surgery to extract it. It’s been a long few days.”
My eyes widened, pulse thrashing like an angry bull. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“As am I, niña.” He pressed his lips to mine and responded with an eagerness that lit up my entire body. When his tongue parted my lips I moaned, feeling my pussy throb with need.
But I forced myself to pull away, not wanting to wind him up and prolong his healing. His chest already heaved, and I saw the same desire in his eyes that I felt roaring through my entire body.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to have you again.”
I nearly moaned just from his words, and bit my lip, trying to hide my grin. “Let’s hope you heal like Superman, because I am so ready.” He laughed, and I smiled in return, but sobered when he winced. “Just get better and we can deal with all of it later. I can’t have you ripping open your stitches and dying on me.”
It was meant to be lighthearted, but still my voice cracked toward the end.
He stroked my cheek as the pent-up collective fear and relief all poured out of me in the form of deep, gut-wrenching sobs. Romero smoothed my hair back, shushing me gently.
“It’s all right, my Julietta. I’m okay. We’re safe.”
I remembered Eli, Darren, and Rafael all sacrificing themselves to make sure I’d made it out safely.
When my tears slowed, I finally asked. “What about the others? Are they okay?”
At that moment, the door behind Romero opened and Eli strolled in, taking a bite from his ruby-red apple. “Awake finally?” He grinned in his playful way, but I wasn’t sure if it was me or Romero he was speaking to.
“You’re okay,” I sighed with relief. “Darren and Rafael too? How’s Kieran’s arm?”
“Slow down, mi alma,” Romero said, smiling. I loved when he called me that, and felt my chest swell with adoration.
“We’re all in better condition than this asshat who went without his bulletproof vest,” Eli teased, nodding to Romero.
I shot Eli a glare before letting my eyes fall back to the man that lay beside me. “Did you know when you left that you were walking into a dangerous situation?” I asked.
He sighed. “Yes, but every time I walk out the door there’s a potential threat. The car usually has a tactical vest under the seat, but for some reason it was moved. Cas and I were ambushed that night. But Eli is right. I shouldn’t have left without my gear.”
A lump rose in my throat. “Because of me,” I whispered, hoping I’d said it too quietly for him to hear. But no such luck.
His gaze narrowed on me in a chastisement. “I know better than that, no matter how blissfully, deliriously happy I was before I left. It was not your fault.”
I swallowed hard, tears stinging my eyes anew. He may have said that, but it was my fault. He’d been caught off guard. If he’d been thinking clearly, he wouldn’t have been unprotected.
“I was just coming in to see if either of you wanted anything to eat. Aaron made tacos,” Eli said, reminding me that he was still standing there.
“Yes, for both of us,” Romero answered, dismissing Eli.
His friend turned and left, crunching his apple as the door clicked shut again. I looked around the room, spying the wooden-panel walls, the high-sloped ceiling. There was an en suite bathroom that I could just make out through the open door behind me.
The room was big and spacious; the bed we were lying on had to be bigger than a super king because it felt like it stretched on for ages behind me and past Romero too.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Mexico,” he answered, playing with a strand of my golden hair.
My eyes went wide. “How did we get past the border? I don’t have a passport or anything.”
Romero’s lips quirked to one side. “Yes, you do. You don’t think I had documents drawn up for you that would allow you passage anywhere in the world? Darren brought your passport along with some of your personal items.” His gaze landed on my backpack leaning against the wall beside him.
I blinked, not knowing what to say. Fortunately, I was saved from having to reply when Aaron himself carried in a massive tray of tacos and toppings. Romero pushed himself up in the bed, straining slightly from the pain as he did so, but I guessed Aaron chose to ignore it because he knew his friend was too stubborn to ask for help.
After Aaron left the two of us alone, we ate and talked about the time frame of his recovery. I purposely danced around the topic of who attacked him, how he planned to retaliate—because if there was anything I knew about mafia dons, it was that they always retaliated—and anything else that I really needed to know but just couldn’t right now.
