“That is a nasty gash.”Tate cleans the blood off my forehead as Stefania paces like a caged stallion around my bedroom.
“That’s what the butt of a gun will do to you. Ouch.” I suck in a breath.
“I am going to kill that hilo de la chingada,” Stefania erupts. “If he thinks he can intimidate me, if he thinks he can come in here and threaten you. Le cortare las bolas y se las dare de comer!”
I look at Tate confused.
“She’s going to cut off his balls and feed them to him,” he translates.
“Ah.” I nod. “I’ll be in for that.” I lift my arm and blood oozes out.
Tate applies some pressure with a towel.
“It’s a good thing Marco called me when he did. If we got here any later, who knows what kind of shape you’d be in.” She resumes pacing. “You could have bled out.”
“It’s a flesh wound. I would have been fine. How did he know anyway?”
“He’s got his own men inside. You think he doesn’t watch his back? Or mine?”
“Did he know that Raffi knew about you two?”
“Only after he was informed they were coming after you.”
“You’re lucky.” Tate holds a saturated towel to my head.
“I know,” I reluctantly agree. “They caught me off guard.”
“It happens to the best of us.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I huff.
Tate smirks. “Stubborn till the very end.”
I shrug.
“Steph. He wants Wang,” I deliver the message that was so rudely left with me early this morning.
She expels a frustrated sound. “He took me months to land. Ese hijo de puta, desearia que estuviera muerto.”
“She wishes he was dead.” Tate once again plays translator.
“I think I got that one.” I close my eyes. I’m suddenly so tired.
“Dove, don’t close your eyes.” Tate shakes me.
I pop them open. “I’m tired.”
“You probably have a concussion. You can’t go to sleep.”
I groan. I just want my pillow.
“Why don’t you take a shower? Wash all this blood off you. We need to change the sheets, too.”
I look down at my white bedding splattered with red. “That sucks.”
“Palomita.” Stefania sits on the bed. “This is all my fault.”
“Yes, it is,” I don’t hesitate to agree.
