Page 154 of South Beach Bodyguards

“You should have taken me with you.” Though even as I said it I realized he had given me the biggest gift ever in not having done so. I had a life. Without him. A good life. One built on hard work instead of lies and illegal bullshit. I pulled back slightly, realizing my wounded ego and a sense of betrayal were compelling me to say things I didn’t really mean.

Going with Max would have been a disaster. And I didn’t want to see him again after today. Ever.

He smiled down at me as I pulled back from him. “Just trust me.”

That was the last thing I intended to do. I opened my mouth but before I could say what was in my heart—that answers or not, I wanted Max out of my life this time on my terms—he bent down.

Then he kissed me.

When I got back to Miranda’s place, still puzzling over the new information Mickey had given me, I found the house empty, cooked fish growing cold on the stove. The sauce that was simmering looked like it hadn’t been stirred and was burning. That was odd.

“Miranda?” I called out. I didn’t hear the shower running. I went down the hallway. The bathroom and the bedroom were both empty. I pulled out my phone and called her. No answer.

Now I was getting worried. I hadn’t noticed if her car was on the street or not, so I flipped the blinds in the living room to check. Her car was two houses down on the street, empty. What the hell?

I went back through the house and out the back door. Sometimes she worried when the cat didn’t come back right away. Maybe she went searching for him. But the back yard was empty. I glanced around for any sight of the cat but I didn’t see his Royal Furriness either.

When I glanced at the apartment next door I realized there was movement in the kitchen. Creeping toward the house, what I saw was the back of Miranda’s head, a man’s hand buried in the blond tresses, his other hand on the small of her back. My nostrils flared. What the fuck was going on?

They were kissing.

Miranda was kissing a guy in the abandoned apartment next door.

Fury welled up inside me. No man should have his hands on her. She was mine.

I was moving towards the door, rage pushing me forward, even as I knew I had no exclusive right to her. We hadn’t exchanged promises or words of love and hadn’t discussed what would happen beyond thirty days. Yet it still felt like a betrayal. Only made worse by what I saw when they split apart, Miranda turning as if she had heard me. Or maybe sensed my presence moving outside the window.

My brother.

It was my brother she was kissing.

And then I knew that I had been played. I didn’t understand the game.

All I knew was that act? The sweet innocent naïve woman with a side of sexy? All a fucking lie. She had to have been in this with Max all along. The girl with the gun.

But because I was furious and because I was an idiot and because I hated Max and wanted to punch him in the damn face, I shoved the back door open and sauntered into the kitchen. “Well, this is cozy.”

Max gave me a grin. One that I remembered all too well and despised. It was part smirk part pure arrogance. “Hey, little brother, you piece of shit squatter. What can we do for you?”

Miranda’s mouth was gaping open and she looked stunned. She was pale and she snapped her jaw closed and swallowed visibly. “Max is alive,” she said, her voice trembling.

I frowned. I couldn’t read her reaction. Wouldn’t she have known that? “Looks that way.” I was wearing a suit from work and I tugged on the lapel, testing how tight my jacket was. I wanted a full swing when I slammed my fist into Max’s face. “But give me another five minutes and I’ll have him dead on the floor.”

Max took a step forward, bumping Miranda’s shoulder as he shifted, knocking her to the side. The bastard didn’t even stop to help her. The guy had always had the worst manners. “And why would you be attempting to kill me, exactly, Alejandro? You’re the one fucking my girlfriend.”

I wanted to tell him she wasn’t his girlfriend but I wasn’t sure of that fact. “Because you’re a dick,” was my response instead. “Because you have been giving Mom and Dad heartache since you were a kid and you deserve to be put in your place.”

His arms were over his chest. Max looked older, harder. Skinny. I had no doubt I could take him. He may have crazy on his side, but I had strength. As his eyes raked over me I could tell he knew it too. I wasn’t a teenager any more. I had size on him. But he was holding a gun. This was familiar.

“Give me one reason not to put a bullet in your head right now,” he said, his arm raising.

But Miranda screamed and stepped right in front of Max, putting herself directly between us.

“Miranda, move!” I yelled, terrified. “Get the hell out of the way.” I was furious with her, but that didn’t mean I wanted her hurt.

“Listen to Lover Boy,” Max said, staring Miranda down, as he shifted slightly so he could see me in the background. His nostrils were flaring with anger and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or Miranda or both of us.

“I’m not moving unless you promise not to hurt Alejandro,” she said.

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