Page 44 of Falling for the Enemy

I still, my cigar freezing mid-air, her words quickly exhuming pain I’ve long since buried. And with the raw pain comes an unraveling of memories I wish I could forget.

Carmen’s screams.

Mamá’s blood.

The sensation of my heart shattering.

Sharp as a tack, Arianna doesn't miss my reaction. Sympathy flits across her softening face, surprising me. “What happened to her? It’s insensitive of me to ask, da, but is she—”

“Si, she’s dead.” I clear my throat and rub my left temple, my skin suddenly tight and uncomfortable. “Has been for a long time.”

Crossing her arms, she exhales.

“Mine as well.” For a lone second, she hesitates. But then she continues, not missing a beat. “I was nine and Mina two when our Papa killed her.” Mina. That’s her younger sister’s name. I commit it to memory. “I was even present when it happened.”

She turns to view the cityscape once more.

“In fact, Papa made me watch.” Ice drips from each of her words and my stomach twists, the unprovoked confession one I didn’t expect. “That’s after he forced me to select the blade he used to cut her throat.” I’ve heard, seen, and done a lot of bad shit in my life, but only a fraction of it compares to the nightmare she just described. “The betrayal that shone in her eyes as she breathed her last breath will always haunt me.”

“Why?”

Strained, the lone word is nearly indecipherable. But understanding precisely what I’m asking, she gnaws her bottom lip, then answers. “It’s simple. He killed Mama because she failed to give him a son. As for me, I chose the knife without argument because if I hadn’t, he’d have viewed my refusal as a weakness that needed to be corrected. And as punishment, he’d hurt Mina, who he never approved of.”

I know the leverage she speaks of.

All too well.

“The choice was unfair, but the decision was an easy one to make.” Turning her head, she looks up at me, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “As much as I loved Mama, I love Mina more. There was and never will be a comparison.”

Her vulnerability is striking.

Grinding my back teeth together, I toss my still-burning Cohiba over the side of the building. Fury isn’t a strong enough word to describe the emotions pummeling my heart as my demons clamor with the need to avenge the pain she was wrongfully dealt. If her father were still alive, I’d rip him apart.

Inch by motherfucking inch.

“Arianna, look at me.” Following my command, she turns back to face me fully, her blue eyes holding mine as I grasp her chin. “You may not need to hear it, but I’m saying it regardless.” I dip my face closer to hers. “You chose correctly.”

“Da?” She inhales softly. “You think so?”

Tongue raking across my lower lip, I nod. “Si. And for what it’s worth, I would’ve done the same, because there is no one in this world that matters to me more than Carmen.”

Her eyes flare; mine narrow in return.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the words that sit on the tip of her pink tongue fail to materialize when a noise mimicking the crack of a whip echoes through the humid night air.

I recognize the sound instantly.

A gunshot.

Grabbing her by the waist, I drop us both to the roof’s floor and roll us against the three-foot-high ledge, my body coming to rest over hers as I pull out my Beretta, finger finding the hair-trigger within a split second.

So much for her men protecting her.

My heart pounds, falling into sync with hers, my torso acting as a shield. “Keep your head down! A sniper is on the rooftop of the building to our right, and I don’t know if there’s a—”

Another gunshot rings out, this time from the left. Dust kicks into the air as the bullet slams into the brick ledge inches from my face. I raise my arm and fire at the second would-be assassin.

Crouched forty feet away, partially tucked behind an air handler near the access door, he shoots again then dives behind the metal box.

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