Page 68 of Knot Yours

“Oh god, no. Marisol!”

Blood coats her white dress in the back and front from the entry and exit wounds. Using Cruz’s dropped knife, I cut off a bit of the white fabric and use it to apply pressure to both sides. “Marisol, don’t you die. Don’t you fucking dare!”

I reach for my phone but stop when the barrel of a pistol presses against my temple.

Austin

My bloody fingers caress Marisol’s cheek, and I kiss her temple, silently begging her to hold on. “Get up,” Cruz snarls.

The poolside door swings open, and an older man’s voice booms, “What is the meaning of this?”

Dammit. Otero.

Cruz backs up a step, losing the bravado. I turn to face the newcomer, and Cruz says, “Sir, this man attacked us. He shot Marisol and the rest of my men.”

The old man steps closer and studies my face. “Is that what happened, Mr. Madden?”

Either I’m in the twilight zone, or Borrero has more pull than even his daughter realized. Regardless, I’ve got more important things to worry about. Unfortunately, I still have a gun pointed at my head. “No. Not even close.”

The old man levels a disgusted glare at the younger mobster. “I’m disappointed, my boy.”

Cruz laughs. “You’re disappointed? You’re the one holding this family back. I’ve given you the perfect chance to triple our profit, but you’re a sentimental old fool.”

The pistol swings from me to the old man. “I think it’s time for a new El Gran to take over. I’ll kill you and tell everyone Madden pulled the trigger after shooting my wife. Then my father can take over.”

Otero opens his steepled fingers to mimic being open to the idea. “I’ve always felt a man should do what he thinks is right. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Madden?”

“Enough of this bullshit,” Cruz growls.

His grip tightens on the pistol, and a shot goes off. The old man shakes his head in disapproval, and Cruz hits the floor.

Uninterested in who fired or what’s at play here, I turn back to Marisol and check for a pulse. A hand lands softly on my shoulder. “How is she doing?” Ortero asks.

“She needs help and fast.”

Ruiz blows into the house, gun raised. He checks to make sure Cruz is dead and runs back out, yelling for someone to follow him in. Before I realize what’s happening, a crew of medics rush through the door and shove me out of the way.

I can no longer help Marisol, so I slide over to Piper. A bloody nine-millimeter slug is embedded in the fabric cover of her vest. She whimpers when I unclip the straps and remove the protection. “You did good, girl. I’m so proud of you.”

“Will she make it?” Otero asks, moving to stand over us.

“She’s in pain, but I think she’ll be alright. Marisol… dammit. Marisol dove in front of the bullet. Stupid.”

“Not stupid, but selfless and brave. Qualities you possess, no?”

“No offense, but I don’t have time for your armchair therapy bullshit.”

The medics have done a good job shielding whatever it is they’re doing to Marisol, but now, they’re lifting her onto a gurney. That’s my cue to move. I slip my bag strap across my body and pick Piper off the floor.

“Of course not,” Otero says. “Ruiz, take Miss Piper to my vet. This young man needs to go to the hospital with Marisol while I tie up a few loose ends here.”

Otero stares hard as if conveying a truth to me with his eyes. I’ve seen that expression before. A picture of Marisol making the same face flashes in my head.

Son of a bitch.

I nearly trip over my tongue as I pass Piper over to the man I met only yesterday. “I’ll update Knot. You take care of Marisol,” Ruiz says as I rush out the door behind the EMTs.

The medics take a right turn out of the pool house, I’m guessing toward the sound of helicopter rotors. They’re just locking down the gurney when I step onto the skid. One of the aircrew stops me with a hand on my chest. “Sir, you’ll have to—”

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