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“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Track the entire line of command, crush them all to dust, then make sure the rest are sufficiently scared shitless so they don’t try to step in and take over,” Darren offered from the front seat.
Despite my nerves, I snorted a laugh. “That sounds like a piece of cake.”
Romero’s lips curled upward as he stroke his thumb at the crease of my smirking mouth. “I love it when you smile.”
It wasn’t a full one, but the compliment turned it genuine. His eyes slid to the ring on my finger, and I followed suit, grinning like a moron.
“Mi bella reina,” he whispered.
I leaned forward, our lips brushing. The flood gates lifted, and heat sluiced through my veins. Kissing Romero Vazquez was like a dream. One I never intended to wake from. Just the idea of spending each day kissing this man had my body humming with need. I slid my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. When his tongue caressed my own, I moaned.
Darren sniggered. “Alright, you two: save it, or Aaron is going to be driving with a hard-on.”
We broke apart for Romero to glare up at the mirror just as the car came to a stop at the light. Aaron made a sound of protest, but it was cut off by his phone ringing.
He picked it up. “What?”
The sliver of his reflection in the rearview mirror paled.
Romero’s spine straightened, like he could hear what was being said. “What is it?”
“You’re sure?” Aaron asked.
Another pause.
Then he hung up. The light turned green and he floored the accelerator, the tires squealing and engine roaring.
My stomach bottomed out and I glanced at Romero, but he smacked a hand on the seat in front of him, swearing. Clearly, he knew what was happening.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s—”
I saw the flash of black streaking toward Darren’s window before it collided. I heard the roar of an engine, an ear-splitting bang.
My body was thrown to the side.
Glass shattered, cutting across my face. Someone bellowed. Then a warm body was on mine while we spun.
I didn’t want to open my eyes. Romero’s scent was everywhere. My cheek was hot, and my knee burned.
Finally, the car jolted to a stop.
Dazed, I blinked. Colors seemed to bleed together, and I blinked again.
Romero’s face came into focus, his hands searching my head, my body. Gingerly he moved my face left, then right. His lips pressed to mine, then sounds began to register.
Aaron threw his door open and got out, screaming obscenities in Spanish.
“Julietta, speak to me. Are you okay?” Romero asked. I got the feeling from his panicked tone that he’d asked several times before I heard him.
“I think so.” My voice was shaky. Peering over his shoulder, I saw the man slumped in the passenger’s seat. I leaned forward so fast, my head spun. “Oh my god, Darren!”
There was blood trickling from his hairline, but my shout seemed to rouse him: hegroaned, shifting slightly.
Romero’s attention was then on his friend too, checking the damage.
The front and side window had burst, but the door didn’t look impacted. However, I couldn’t make out the hood of the car at all.
