Page 79 of Drawn Blue Lines

I didn’t answer. Partly because I wasn’t sure if I believed her, and partly because I was suspicious as to what she was doing. Was she giving into whatever was building between us, or was I simply getting played? She was supposed to fight me, flip me off, and tell me to go to hell. Instead, she wiggled, forcing the friction I denied her, and I let out a low curse.

I stood still, my conscience at war with my cock. The choice was mine. Did I take what I knew we both wanted, or did I draw a line in the sand? Maybe on neutral ground, it would’ve been a fair fight, but standing in the middle of a hedonistic hurricane, my conscience never stood a chance.

Throbbing with need, I resumed my slow grind, enticing a broken moan from Adriana’s lips. I glanced around at the sweaty bodies surrounding us. The dance floor was crowded, and nobody cared what anyone else was doing. The whole place looked like one big orgy anyway. We already looked like we were fucking. The only thing stopping it from happening was a scrap of denim and a thin layer of restraint. All I had to do was free both, and I’d sink right into her.

Fuck it.

Releasing her hair, I reached for my zipper when I heard the first gunshot.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Adriana

Brody’s hand hit the back of my legs, and I closed my eyes. I could’ve stopped him. I should’ve stopped him. I knew what he was doing. I knew the complications it would cause and the consequences.

I just didn’t care.

I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Brody Harcourt and I stood on opposite sides of the battle line, but hating the lieutenant didn’t stop me from wanting the man. And I wanted him with a desperation that clawed at my soul. He’d become a drug, poisoning my body with a fatal addiction I craved. Touching him was like flirting with death. I found myself risking everything for the high. But with risk came consequence, and when tempting the devil, it came with the promise of another breath.

I felt him fumble for his zipper, and I bit my lip. Muñoz sicarios weaved through the crowd like mice, and I had no doubt Cristiano watched everything from one of the hundreds of hidden cameras, but the danger only added to the intrigue. This was the highest level of insanity, but I wanted it more than my next breath.

I tightened my hold around his neck in preparation when a loud pop jolted me back into reality. I recognized the sound immediately. Growing up cartel, it was the nature of the beast. By age two, I knew the sound of a gunshot better than my mother’s voice.

Brody’s hands fell from my body, our close embrace disintegrating as his head jerked up. A handful of people stopped to cast a curious glance around, but the majority of them ignored the prelude to chaos, continuing to dance in indulgent ignorance.

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked back to see Brody’s eyes wide and wild. “Adriana, get—”

Then all hell broke loose.

Shot after shot ripped through the club, confused partygoers standing stock still until people collapsed to the floor and blood splattered across their faces. Then screams drowned out the still thumping music and mass panic ensued. People were shoved, pushed, trampled, and used as human shields.

Trying to stay on my feet while being shoved around like a human pinball, I shoved my hand under my dress and unsnapped my thigh holster. Within seconds, I pulled my Colt 380 from the inside of my left thigh and scanned the chaos for a familiar face.

Just not the one that showed up.

“Son of a bitch!” Cristiano came barreling past me in a blur of rage and shoved Brody into a screaming wall of people. “Get her out of here!”

All I could do was watch as Brody came back with a vengeance. Grabbing a handful of Cristiano’s shirt, he wrenched him forward and growled through clenched teeth, “You’re the one with invisible doors. You get her out of here!”

Before Cristiano could react, Brody shoved him backward with so much force he tripped and slammed into the mirrored wall behind him. I stood there with my mouth open and a loaded gun in my hand in shock. I’d never seen anyone manhandle Cristiano Vergara like that. I’d never seen anyone dare try. I was surprised Brody was still breathing, and from the look on Cristiano’s face, so was he.

I jumped as a new round of shots rang out. Steadying my trigger finger, I turned to shout orders when Brody’s muscular arm hooked around my upper back.

“What the—” That was all I got out before the room spun in a frenzied swirl of light and sound as I crashed into Cristiano’s hard chest.

“Dios mío,” he wheezed.

It was dark, but that didn’t hide the glint of steel I saw in Brody’s hand. My stomach dropped. What the hell was he planning to do? Take them all out by himself? We were supposed to be in this together. I was a trained killer, not some damsel in distress.

Stupid motherfucker.

I scrambled to my feet, only to be spun back around into the arms of the abnormally large dickhead from upstairs. Cristiano took my gun out of my hand and nodded to him, something unspoken passing between them. “Take her to the rattle room,” he instructed, pulling his own gun from inside his jacket. “Keep her quiet by any means necessary.”

“Give me back my gun!” I yelled. “And what the hell is a rattle room?” He didn’t answer. His back was already turned as he walked away, swallowed into the thinning but still hysterical crowd. When the guard started toward a door near the corner of the room, I did the only thing I could think of. I went limp and became one hundred and twenty-seven pounds of dead weight.

He dragged me two feet before turning to glare at me. “You think I won’t throw your ass over my shoulder, puta?” I pinched my lips together and glared right back at him. Sighing, he bent down, scooping me up like I weighed nothing and tossed me over his shoulder. “Now shut up, or I’ll gag you. Boss’s orders.”

I lifted my head, a cold numbness spreading through me as I took in the destruction and carnage. The room that moments ago was alive with the scent of desire now smelled metallic, a stench fueled by blood and revenge. Death never bothered me before, but as I watched Brody and Cristiano grow smaller and smaller with every step, my heart lodged in my throat

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