19

 

Cara backed into Gage’s broad back, and he held her steady with hands on her shoulders.

“What is it?”

“Something’s not right.” An unusual musky scent intermingled with her tropical air fresheners. The coffee table looked a little off kilter. And, hadn’t she left the magazines spread out? “I think someone’s been in here. The coffee table. I don’t usually stack the magazines on top of one another.” She glanced toward the kitchen. An opened can of soda sat on the counter, condensation running down its sides.

The hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. “Someone has been here,” she whispered.

Gage swept in front of her. “Go back to the truck.” He shoved keys at her. “Get inside the cab and lock the doors.” He bent low, extracted his gun from an ankle holster and moved deeper into the apartment.

Cara second guessed herself. Perhaps she’d left the soda out by accident. Maybe Jonas had taken it from the fridge as he’d waited for her to pack. She had left in a hurry…but then again, there wouldn’t still be condensation on the can.

Gage spared a glance behind him as he neared her bedroom door, gun held steady in his hands. “Cara. Move. Now.” He crouched low and spun around the doorframe, entering the bedroom in a solid sweeping motion.

We’re in this together.

She couldn’t leave him alone. What if someone was really inside?

A thud and a groan sounded from the bedroom. A crash. Something shattered.

“Gage!” Not caring for her own safety, Cara fisted the keys and ran toward the noises.

Gage and a bald man, entangled in a brawl, fell into the hallway cursing, grunting and throwing punches. Interminable minutes passed as one man gained the upper hand, and then the next took control.

Cara jumped out of the way, and positioned the keys between her fingers, ready to strike at an opportune time. But, before she got a chance, a deafening gunshot reverberated across the small apartment. She held her breath as the men froze on the floor—Gage on top, hands around the intruder’s throat.

Neither man appeared to have been shot. Neither held a gun.

Both men looked past Cara.

A sickening dread washed over her, and she slowly turned.

A tall, olive skinned man blocked the entrance to the apartment. He held a pistol, aimed straight at her. His cavernous gaze trailed down the length of her, and then landed on Gage. “McKenna. Thought you were dead.” He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to kill you again.”

 

****

 

“You should’ve left.” Gage’s plea to Cara came too late. She stood between him and Santiago. His gut clenched, and his fingers tightened around Rafael’s throat as if on their own accord.

“Release my brother.” Santiago waved the gun.

Gage forced his fingers to relax and rolled off of Rafael. Although his leg felt as if it had been shattered again, he’d been in worse situations. But, never with a woman standing between him and a bullet.

And, she’d yet to move out of the way.

“Let her go,” Gage rasped. “She’s no threat to you, or Mercado. She didn’t witness anything.”

Santiago curled up his lips into a wry grin. “That’s not my problem.”

Rafael rose to his knees, blood tricking from his nose. He fisted his hand, and Gage prepared for the blow he knew would come.

Rafael’s fist connected with Gage’s jaw, and pain radiated through his head.

“No!” Cara shrieked.

“Don’t move.” Santiago had his gaze, and the gun trained on her.

Otherwise, Gage would’ve returned Rafael’s blow, with interest. Instead, he slowly climbed to his feet. He could no longer rest his weight on his left leg, and he used the wall for support.

Cara’s tearful gaze met his, and his heart shifted. He had to protect her, at all costs.

Father, I know my life was spared for a reason, let me at least keep Cara alive.

He steadied himself the best he could and glanced at the two men. He’d spent enough time in Mercado’s compound to know how little Mercado thought of his nephews. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

“It’s been a long time.” Gage focused on Santiago as he eased toward Cara. “How has Alejandro been treating you?”

Santiago’s gaze darkened. “That’s none of your concern.”

“You do realize he plans to hand his business over to his son one day. There will be nothing left for you and Rafael. Your father taught Alejandro everything. How is it fair you will have nothing in the end?”

“Is that true, Santiago?” Rafael sputtered as he swiped a hand across his nose. “Alejandro promised.”

“His promises mean nothing.” Gage interrupted as he inched closer.

“Shut up, McKenna.” Santiago’s eyes narrowed, his lips turning into hard, thin lines.

Rafael stood, his brows drawn together. “What about the trust Papa left to us?”

“Mercado used it to impress the Serrano cartel,” Gage continued. “The money is gone.”

“Enough!” Santiago’s hand shook as he took aim at Cara’s chest, his finger wrapping around the trigger.

Gage’s stomach dropped—instead of buying them time, he’d pushed Santiago too far. Acting on pure instinct, he lunged toward Cara, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and spun, shielding her body with his.

The sound of gunfire blasted through the small apartment, and Gage dove for the floor, bringing Cara down beneath him. The bullet ricocheted off the wall; drywall and chipped paint rained down on them. He spotted his gun, lying a few feet inside Cara’s bedroom. But, he couldn’t reach it without leaving Cara exposed. Unwilling to take the chance, he closed his eyes and braced for the next bullet’s impact.

“Wait! You might hit the woman.” Rafael shouted. “I wanted some time with her first, just like we planned.”

“Plan’s change.” Santiago’s voice had taken on an odd, hollow quality as if his soul had blackened as deep and dark as his eyes.

Gage shifted his weight and looked over his shoulder. Rafael stood close enough to reach. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he lifted his foot and shoved his boot into Rafael’s shin.

Rafael lost his balance and fell just as another bullet exploded from the barrel.