Page 112 of Chris

Chris made a noise under his breath. “With her, you never know.”

It wasn’t a lie.

The García men gathered behind their leader, allowing Chris a quick count of the remaining men on their side of things. About twenty, he thought. How many were here before?

Twenty wasn’t a large number though.

Easily handled.

Twenty also wasn’t the entire cartel, but Chris bet Roberto had been smart enough to bring what would be more than he needed to strong-arm the ranch under his control. His mistake to assume, however.

He’d learn soon enough.

Abril and Roberto stood face to face before they spoke again. Abril stared up at him, her face a mask of nothingness. She gave nothing away—the calm in the eye of a hurricane.

Chris thought … God help the souls who come up against her.

She would be a force.

“You’ve given me all I wanted, princesa,” Roberto said clearly, his voice traveling over the silent ranch to reach even Chris’s spot in the window, “I have the cartels, and I have you.”

Abril laughed light and sweet, her lips curving salaciously at what he implied. “Is that really what you think?”

Roberto stiffened. “I don’t—”

“I only needed to make this easy,” Abril interjected, her gaze burning as she dropped that white rag to the ground, “and round you up like dogs.”

Roberto took a step back.

Abril dropped to the ground, body flat on the dirt as a line of figures came out of the smoky darkness where she first emerged. The team arrived, it seemed, and Chris finally figured out where Samuel Lòpez had gone.

It looked like he’d been waiting on his sister. Everyone had loyalties. Rarely did others know what they were though.

The Garcías made it easy on the team by gathering behind their leader. Samuel fired his AK first, peppering Roberto García with at least fifteen bullets before the man’s bloodied body fell back to the ground.

Abril covered her head.

The team moved in.

Chris looked to Corrado. “Time to go.”

“We should stay out of Mexico for a while, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Most certainly.