Page 124 of Drawn Blue Lines

“Don’t play dumb. I’m not in the mood. I was worried about you, and this is what I get for it.”

“I didn’t send you a text, Mari!”

“Adriana!” I screamed.

“Adriana, whatever he told you, he’s lying. He took me from the club and held me in this warehouse! But I got away, and I’ve been trying to tell you Brody is the one who sent me here.”

“Do I look like an idiota to you? Brody doesn’t trust you. He’d come for me himself.”

“He did! They all did. Brody sent me because I know this place.”

“Right.”

Sighing, he walked toward me, and I backed up. Without taking another step, he lowered his chin, shaking his head as if reveling in a private joke. “He said you wouldn’t believe me, so he told me to tell you not to make him come all the way in here just to force you to tell him everything that came after te amo.”

The words were both a jolt of lightning and a bullet to the heart. I love you. The words I said to Brody after we made love. The only ones he understood. There was no way Cristiano could know that.

I stumbled backward. “No…”

“That man loves you, Mari, and it’s written all over your face how much you love him. I know you don’t trust me right now, and I’ll explain everything to you, but come with me, if not for me, then for him.”

The room spun, and my heart thundered in my ears, the constant pounding way too fast and loud. I needed time I didn’t have. My hand hurt. My head hurt. It felt like the world pressed down on my shoulders, driving me into the waiting arms of hell, and all I wanted to do was spend my last few moments in Brody’s arms.

I was weak, so I nodded.

“Thank God,” he breathed. “Come on, there’s a back way out of here. It should be clear, but if we come across any lingering sicarios, I brought a friend.” He nodded toward the doorway where a shotgun sat leaning against the wall.

Something that slowed my steps as Cristiano wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me toward the door.

Santiago.

“No!” Jerking away from him, I spun around, my back toward the exit. “I can’t leave without Santiago.”

“Are you crazy?” he hissed. “Val is looking for him. Besides, you’re Ignacio’s prisoner. The two of us wandering around this place would be a flashing red sign. We’d be shot on sight.”

He was right. We would be shot on sight.

We would.

We.

I had no idea if he was telling the truth, but I hoped if he was, he’d forgive me.

With my last bit of strength, I spun around, and grabbing the barrel of the shotgun, I swung. All Cristiano got out was my name before the stock slammed into the side of his skull, and he hit the floor.

Stepping over him, I crouched near the corner of the room where I dropped the shard of glass. Holding it against the inside of my left wrist, I took a deep breath.

No one would suffer because of me again.

I made a fist, and warm blood trickled down my wrist.

I didn’t mind. Blood reminded me I was still alive, and pain was fleeting.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Brody

“Brody, behind you!”

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