Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"Get down," he yells at me as he flies past me in a blur of motion.
I drop to the damp sand instantly, and then hear a loud grunt and what sounds like someone falling. A loud cry rings out, and then the unmistakable sound of a fist striking flesh reaches me.
I push myself to my knees and turn just in time to see Roman's fist connect with Guerrero's jaw. He's got one hand wrapped around Guerrero's tie, with Guerrero on his ass in the sand. Guerrero isn't helpless, though. Far from it.
His foot connects with the side of Roman's knee, knocking him off-balance. Roman falls backward, dragging Guerrero on top of him, thanks to his tight hold on the man's tie.
They roll around in the sand, a blur of flailing limbs, flying sand, and roaring curses. Even then, Roman moves with a deadly grace that steals my breath. He's hypnotic, ensnaring me as he rages against Guerrero, landing blow after blow to the man's face and ribs. Guerrero lands just as many, but Roman doesn't even flinch. A fury like I've never seen before burns in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his face hard and terrifying.
"You sold your own fucking sister to Francisco, you prick," Roman growls.
"Fuck you, pendejo," Guerrero spits, blood flying from his lips.
Someone wraps their arms around me from behind as I watch Roman strike Guerrero in the face again. I scream and fight like hell, flinging myself back and forth to get free. All I can think is that Julio isn't dead, and he's trying to finish what Guerrero couldn't.
"Calm down, darlin'."
The fight drains out of me as soon as that gruff voice sounds next to my ear. I sag in Officer Carter's arms, allowing him to lift me up. Like Roman, he doesn't even notice my weight, instead plucking me up and setting me on my feet like a little kid.
As soon as I'm steady, he grabs Tahani and pulls her to her feet. Once she's upright, he raises what I think is Julio's gun and positions himself between us and Julio like he's trying to keep us from seeing his body, though it's a little too late for that.
Julio lies face down in the sand, not moving. There are two holes in his back, and his shirt is stained red. His blood soaks into the sand around him, staining it too. The sight makes my stomach roil and roll. I quickly shift my gaze away from him, back to Roman and Guerrero.
Guerrero is on his back in the sand with Roman straddling him. Blood flies from Guerrero's mouth as Roman's fist connects with his face over and over again. Each hit causes the cartel leader to grunt and curse, a mixture of English and Spanish leaving his lips in a nonsensical flood. He bucks upward, trying to fling Roman off to no avail.
Roman's too damned big, too damned furious. "You tried to kill my girl and then went after my daughter, you sick fuck," he yells at Guerrero, not even the rumble of thunder hiding the hatred in his words. "You sent your boys after my partner's family."
"Mila, you gotta move," Officer Carter tells me, trying to push me into moving away from the violent scene playing out right in front of me, but I can't.
My feet are frozen, locked into place by the look on Roman's face. He's going to kill Guerrero…beat him to death. And that's exactly what the man deserves for everything he's done, but I'm not so sure this nightmare will end if Roman kills him.
Guerrero's people will come for Roman, me, the baby, or Tahani. We'll never be free.
I don't want to live like that, and I don't want Roman, our baby, or Tahani to live that way, either. I don't want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, afraid someone will come after us because of Guerrero.
I shake Carter's big hand off my arm and take a step toward Roman.
"Roman, stop."
"I'm going to fucking kill you and your boss. Francisco will never see that baby, you stupid motherfucker," he snarls at Guerrero as if he didn't hear me. He pants, his chest rising and falling as he tears into Guerrero over and over, not stopping or slowing. He's like a machine, relentless even though his knuckles are scraped and bleeding. His fist connects with Guerrero's face again. Blood splatters when he pulls his hand back to hit him again.
Guerrero's face is bloody and broken. He's defeated, and I think he knows it, too. He isn't even trying to fight back or defend himself now. He just lies there, his head rolling from side to side as he moans.
Roman hits him again. The sound of his fist connecting with Guerrero's face is brutal. Not even the howling wind and crashing waves cover up the sickening crunch of bone or the pained whine rolling from Guerrero's swollen, bloody lips.