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Cocking my head to the side, I took a step forward. “Getting messed up in my father’s love of crime surely hasn’t made you spotless,” I needled.
Todd shrugged. “My father is a lawyer.”
“Was a lawyer,” Romero corrected.
Todd glared menacingly on Romero, and then he pulled out his own gun. “No thanks to you.”
The panic I felt continued to rise, and I was sinking into it. Hand-to-hand combat, I could handle. But a gunfight was all about who fired first, and who had the better aim. Not to mention, I only had a knife.
Seeming to prepare for what was about to happen, Romero positioned himself in front of me.
“You can’t think that a kid like you has what it takes to run a drug cartel,” he said, taking a step forward.
Then another.
I had to peer around Romero’s broad shoulders to see Todd’s sneer. “He’s been grooming me to be his second since I was sixteen. No one knows the inner workings of his dealings better than I do.”
For some reason, I chose that moment to glance at Jade, catching her eyeroll just in time.
Romero took another step closer. “Do you know what makes me better than Morgan?” he asked with an eerie calmness. “Besides the fact that he was sliced open and dumped into a bin like the trash he was?”
A pause. Another step. His slow advance made my skin itch. What was he up to? The guys on either side of my old nemesis sensed it too, shifting from side to side with one finger on the trigger. Mercifully, they were aimed down. But Romero had nothing.
“When I was barely old enough to walk and talk, I was forced to learn how to fight for my survival. I clawed and fought my way out of the pits of hell. And I became a hunter.
“If I needed to find someone, I always found them. When I needed their bodies disposed of without a trace, I made it happen. The foundation of everything I am and all that I’ve created is built on the bones of those who wronged me. My hands are drenched in crimson and I love the taste.”
My mouth went dry hearing his confession. A part of me wasn’t surprised to hear that he’d killed before. In truth, we were both fucked up. The proof of that was the fact that his confession didn’t make me scared, or disgusted.
If anyone knew about my demons, it was Romero.
It was always Romero.
Todd had the good sense to look nervous, and lifted his gun higher. “I’ve had enough of your shit. Burn in hell, old man.”
Instinct had me moving. I lunged for Romero to push him out of the way, but he charged at Todd. I was too late.
The first pop hit Romero. He grunted but kept running.
Pandemonium exploded around us, gunshots firing everywhere. My self-preservation skills were clearly lacking, because I didn’t drop to the ground like a smart person would have.
Romero reached Todd as his magazine emptied, driving his fist into the asshole’s face. He went down in a heap of limbs, but Romero didn’t pay him any mind.
I, however, couldn’t leave him alive.
Drawing out my switchblade, I shoved Todd’s limp form so he was on his back then straddled him, preparing to drive the knife into his chest.
A pang of guilt washed over me, stilling my arms. Without the creep fighting back, it made delivering a killing blow next to impossible.
Fists cracked against flesh; bullets tore through bodies around me. The men in the shadows ran down the street toward us. Yet I was frozen, seeking out the man I needed most in that moment.
Romero was fixed in a fight against three guys. I couldn’t see any blood on him—which meant he was wearing armor.
Relief flooded me.
A pair of black lace flats stopped in front of me. Denim-clad legs led up to the face of a girl glaring down at me, and the man I was incapable of killing.
“Move,” she snapped. “I’ll do it.”
