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Banger unloads his clip at the intruders. “Got another one!” he calls out. “Who are these motherfuckers?”
Tank’s voice sounds behind me. “Ah, fuck! I’m hit.” He groans in pain but it’s too fucking chaotic to turn and check on him.
“Shit man! Where ya hit?”
“Shoulder,” he bites out. “Hurts like a motherfucker, but it went straight through. A few stitches and some titties on my face, and I’ll be good.”
I smile as my gaze scans for more shooters. Only Tank would be thinking about titties while someone’s trying to shoot his ass.
Eventually, the gunshots stop completely, and I assume we scared off the assholes. But we relax behind the crates just in case. “Anyone get a good look at those fuckers?”
No one had because we were all busy loading up the shipment. “Sorry, man, I couldn’t make out any details.” Banger shrugs and goes to Tank to help him up.
“Get him to Nova. I need to talk to Ace and let him know there’s another threat looming in the fucking distance.”
“Dix,” Banger calls out. He levels his dark gaze at me when I turn back to him. “What if this isn’t another threat,” he says. “What if it’s LTC playing games?”
“Then we’ll have to deal with them. Either way, we need to know for sure who it is. Wild Man or Gia should be able to tell us exactly that. Help me put those bodies into the warehouse.”
“On it, man.”
The only silver lining in this clusterfuck of a shootout is that, for the first time in weeks, something other than Valentina occupies my mind.
Ace will definitely have something to say about my relationship with her now. Once again, I’ll have to explain to my own fucking MC that I’m not two-timing them.
And I need to do it quickly because I’m desperate to see her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Valentina
“Fuck it,” I say to myself and stop pacing my room.
I check outside my door to ensure I’m alone before I reach under the mattress for my Dix phone. My heart picks up speed at the thought of hearing his voice again, but the phone rings and rings before the automated voicemail starts.
“Dix, it’s me. I need you to know that Emiliano is still trying to kill—”
The message is cut short when someone rips the phone from my hands. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Who are you calling?”
I turn and glare into the angry eyes of Emiliano. “None of your business.”
“This?” He’s smiling but his eyes are wild and crazed. “This is your fuck phone? The one you use to call him?”
I fold my arms across my chest and roll my eyes. “Not your business. Now give me my phone and leave me alone.”
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. It is my business. I don’t give a damn what Papa says. You can’t fuck that gringo. I won’t allow it.”
I bark out a laugh and step forward to grab my phone from his hand. “Allow? You don’t get a say in what I do, Emil. How many times do I have to tell you that? My. Life. Is. Not. Your. Business.”
He pushes at my chest and slams the phone to the ground. But it doesn’t have the intended effect because Emiliano has always been more dramatic than smart. It just spins against a chair, undamaged.
“Fuck!” he shouts, his anger turning his face red. Then he stomps the phone until the screen cracks and shards of glass fly all around the room. “Now try to call your lover.”
“Get the fuck out of my room, Emiliano.”
He shakes his head, eyes even wider as he gets in my face. “I don’t think so, hermana. You will pay for your betrayal.”
I snort a laugh at him, but the deranged look in his eyes worries me.
“I haven’t betrayed anyone. You’re confusing me with yourself. You’re still going against Papa’s wishes. In fact, you’re the one risking tens of millions of dollars because you can’t accept that your sister likes to fuck.” I put emphasis on the word simply because I can, and let my lips spread into a taunting smile.
“You will obey me,” he shouts, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back.
I take a step to regain balance, then swiftly launch my foot into his groin. “Don’t touch me,” I spit out.
His lips curl into a sinister smile, but it’s not amusement or joy. It’s more like a grimace, a crazy twisted smile that sends a shiver down my spine. He grits his teeth and speaks, each word coming out in gasps of pain.
“Or what?”
My eyes dart around the room in search of the green clutch I wore earlier when I left the hotel. It’s on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and I stomp on Emiliano’s foot hard enough that he releases me before I leap across the bed.
