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I aimed the gun in my hand, and the woman stood, raising her arms to make herself as large as possible. “They’re innocent,” she said, voice steady and controlled, despite the fear that was so clear in her dark brown eyes.
She was a beauty, that was for sure, even cloaked in fear and horror. Her hair, as dark as her eyes, tumbled down over her shoulders, having come loose from an elaborate plaited updo. I knew who she was immediately: Lyse Rojas. She was the eldest child, but she wouldn’t inherit the keys to her father’s kingdom; those would go to her younger brother, Matteo. Lyse was destined to become the wife of Felix Suarez, a politician steadily climbing the ladder to bigger and better things.
“No Rojas is innocent,” I spat at her.
Her dark eyes went hard, anger overtaking her fear. “They’rechildren,” she hissed. “What kind of man aims a gun at a child?”
“Like your father has never gone after a kid before,” I said, thinking of Manny, who had managed to get away from a drive-by shooting with a graze on his arm, which had left a knotted scar.
Her lip curled. If she was surprised I knew who she was, she didn’t show it. “They are not my father,” she said. “Why should they pay for his crimes?”
I found her fire, her willingness to put herself between the children and my gun, intriguing. Attractive. But the rage burning through me was louder than that. “Why shouldn’t they?” I countered savagely. “Why shouldn’t I visit as much pain on Luis Rojas as he has on my family?”
The fierceness in Lyse’s eyes wavered and grew wet. “They don’t know anything about that,” she said. “They’re seven years old; they aren’t involved with family business.”
“Not yet,” I growled, “but they will be. It’s inevitable.”
Her arms shook slightly from the way she was holding them out. “It’s part of the life we live,” she said, “but it doesn’t mean they are at faultnow.”
I didn’t have time to argue semantics with her. Why was I still standing here?Put a bullet in all of them and move on. But when I raised my arm to aim again, the sounds of distant sirens reached my ears and a thought occurred to me: take her with me. “Let’s go,” I said.
Lyse looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Go where?”
I pointed the gun at her. “Are you in any fucking position to ask questions?”
She swallowed hard. She glanced behind her at the boys. “If I go with you, will you leave them alone?”
Letting out an annoyed growl, I wrapped a hand around her arm and yanked, dragging her closer. Lyse tried to pull away, but I clamped down on her arm even more. I could feel the bones in her wrist yielding to the pressure. She made a helpless, pained noise. “I’m not negotiating,” I spat.
“Please,” she begged, bottom lip quivering. “I won’t scream. I won’t fight. Just leave them alone.” The sirens were closer now. Keeping my grip firm, I dragged her through the ballroom. I heard her breath stutter. “Ernesto,” she called over her shoulder, “take your brother and go. Don’t look back.”
I heard the Rojas boys scuttling through the carnage. I should have turned around and ended them then and there, but I kept moving, forcing Lyse to step over the bodies of her family as we headed to the side exit that would dump us outside.
She tripped and nearly wrenched her shoulder out of its socket. “What the fuck are you doing?” I spat, looking down at where she was nearly sprawled on the floor.
“My shoes,” she said. “They’re —”
I glanced at the spikes she had been balancing on. “Ridiculous,” I muttered. “Take them off.” She kicked the shoes off…and lost nearly five inches. I towered over her now. “Mierda.”
Reaching down, I grabbed her around the waist and heaved her over my shoulder. She let out a littleoofas my shoulder dug into her stomach. She weighed next to nothing.Good, I thought. It made running easier.
I carried her out the side exit to the waiting SUV I’d left by the hotel’s dumpster. I considered throwing her into the cargo area, but then I couldn’t keep an eye on her, so instead, I opened the driver-side door and deposited her onto the seat. “Crawl across the console to the passenger seat,” I growled. “If you try to open the other door, you’ll be dead before you get your feet on the pavement.”
She scuttled across the seats, and I climbed in beside her, slamming the door behind me. Lyse had crushed herself against the passenger door as much as she could, but she didn’t try to get away.Smart girl, I mused and started the engine. I cut the lights to make the SUV hard to spot in the growing darkness.
Even as the police cars pulled up outside of the Biltmore, the size of the hotel’s property made it easy to maneuver around them. Once we hit the road, I flipped the lights back on and kept to the speed limit. The picture of a law-abiding citizen. “You’re bleeding,” Lyse said. “A lot.”
I grunted in acknowledgment. My shirt was wet with it and sticking to me: it was going to hurt peeling it off later, but that pain could wait until I’d gotten to the safe house.
“If we get pulled over—”
“We won’t.”
Lyse scoffed and tried to hide it, as if she couldn’t help the sound that escaped her throat. “Are the Castillos so untouchable?” she asked.
I pictured Angel again. The breathing tube down his throat, the nurse forcing his heart to beat. The stampeding sound of their footsteps as the team raced down the hall to take him into surgery, again. “No, we aren’t so untouchable, but tonight I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me.” My words were sincere—a promise—and Lyse fell silent.
Good, I thought.No need to make conversation; it’s a waste of time anyway.Lyse’s fate was sealed the moment I recognized her. With Angel back on the operating table, none of the Rojas were safe. Not even her.
