Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
When we reach an open space where a lounge is situated with open sliding doors that lead to a patio, I feel Pedro’s hand on my shoulder. He’s ready to yank me out of harm’s way, the barrel of his gun visible in my peripheral vision.
We keep moving forward, then a fucker jumps up from behind a couch and makes a run for the open doors.
I open fire, the spray of bullets following him until three hit his back.
As I glance over the room again, another man pops up from behind the other couch, taking aim at Pedro. I pull the trigger as I shove Pedro to the side, and the bullet meant for his head slams into my upper arm.
Pain rips through the muscle, and I clench my jaw.
And then my second-in-command loses his everloving fucking mind, and he empties the magazine in the fucker who shot me.
I glance down at my arm, thinking Ciara’s not going to be happy.
Letting out a sigh, I wait for Pedro as he kicks the really, really fucking dead body, and when he stalks to me with rage tightening his features, I brace myself.
“You do not get in my fucking way and take a bullet for me!” he shouts right in my face. “Look at your fucking arm.” He takes the empty magazine out of his gun and slams another one in. “Jesus Christ, Santiago!” He rips my sleeve clean off and wraps it tightly around my arm to stop the bleeding, not being careful at all.
“It’s just my arm,” I mutter when he’s done and continue walking toward the other side of the lounge.
“Fucking fuck,” he spits right behind me, running out of words to say.
“I’ll let you remove the bullet,” I chuckle.
“What bullet?” Samuel asks just as he comes in from the other entrance to the lounge, almost giving poor Pedro a heart attack. “And by the way, I heard the two of you all the way down the hallway.”
“Santiago got shot,” Pedro snaps, giving me a glare that tells me he’s going to be pissed off for days.
“Where?” Samuel’s eyes flick over my body before latching onto my arm.
Pressing my finger to my ear, I ask, “Does anyone have eyes on Javier Rojas?”
One by one, I get a no from my men. We all stand around like lost fucking farts, when Samuel says, “That’s a trapdoor.”
The moment I take a step toward it, Pedro glares at me, and I wait for him and Samuel to open the door and check whether it’s safe.
“It’s a tunnel,” Samuel says before he lowers his body into it, and this time I’m allowed to fucking move so Pedro can have my back while I climb down into the tight space.
“Yeah, not my favorite thing today,” I mutter as I follow after Samuel with Pedro bringing up the rear.
The air is filled with dirt, and the only thing keeping the tunnel from collapsing is weak-as-fuck looking wooden planks.
Samuel begins to jog, and we all pick up our pace. The tunnel feels like it’s going on forever when it suddenly ends, and we have to go up.
“Be careful,” I warn Samuel as he climbs the untrustworthy ladder and shoves open the trapdoor.
I stare at him as he glances around, and then he moves quickly, climbing out and disappearing from my sight. When I hear a gunshot, I climb the stepladder fast and haul my ass into a dry area covered with sand and rocks.
Seeing Samuel going after a man, I break out into a run. Samuel tackles the fucker off his feet and they roll in the dirt before the other man ends up on top.
I drop the machine gun, and grabbing my handgun from behind my back, I take aim and the instant the fucker points his gun at Samuel’s face, I pull the trigger twice.
The bullets slam into him, and he falls to the side. Samuel moves quickly, disarming the man as I catch up to them.
Seeing that I shot Javier Rojas, a grin spreads over my face.
Pedro comes up behind me, holding both our machine guns.
I wag my eyebrows at him. “How’s that for good aim?”
“Shut up,” my second-in-command mutters. “I’m still fucking angry with you.”
I turn my attention back to Javier and crouch beside him where he’s gasping for air. “Ouch. A bullet to the lung must hurt like a bitch.” He makes a gargling sound, his eyes wide on me. “Such a pity you don’t get to choose a card. I would’ve liked to see what fate had in store for you.”
He lifts his hand, and gripping hold of my armored vest, his eyes widen even more. “Castro.”
I smile at him. “The one and only.” My expression grows serious. “You kept me busy for quite a while, but it’s time for a vacation.” I press the barrel of my gun to his forehead, and keeping my eyes locked with his, I pull the trigger. His hand goes limp, falling away from me, and his eyes turn glassy.