Page 1 of Hidden By His Side

Prologue

Ramiro wasn’t supposed to be on that bridge that night. The crap car Zeta had assigned to him crapped out about a block away. He would have ditched it anyway, but he rarely hoofed it anywhere anymore. It’d been a while since he was that dead-end street kid with no way to feed himself. Now he worked for an asshole who used him and would keep using him until there was nothing left.

Still, following orders was easiest. The thought of anything different was a blank emptiness Ramiro hated the looks of.

He tapped out a text to Zeta asking for pickup, but it didn’t get read. Nino Zeta acted like Ramiro was important to him to his face, but when push came to shove, he didn’t really give a shit about Ramiro.

The bridge loomed in the darkness. It wasn’t over a river or anything scenic. No, it was a shitty road over a shitty highway. Headlights dotted the highway beneath, despite how late it was.

Midway down the bridge, standing on top of the barrier meant to keep idiots from falling, hovered a young girl. Her bare toes hung over the edge of the cement barrier as she peered down at the traffic below.

Ramiro slowed as he drew closer, not wanting to startle her into splatting onto the highway.

She looked about ten years younger than him, somewhere in her late teens. Her dress hung on her frame, one of those summer ones with flirty skirts, but too loose, like she hadn’t been eating. Ramiro knew what it was like to go hungry.

Even with that, the dress was nicer than what anyone in the neighborhoods he grew up in had worn. Her blonde, flowing hair and pale skin glowed in the moonlight. Well, pale skin except for the dark bruise near her wrist.

Her bare feet drew his eyes. Something about them made her seem even more fragile.

She probably belonged to that rich neighborhood his mark had been in. The neighborhood that would be all up in arms once the body was found. They always acted like violence couldn’t touch them, but money didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of shitty people living there.

Violence was everywhere.

Even wherever this girl had come from.

Her feet shifted farther over the edge, her skirt fluttering around her knees.

Ramiro had thought of ending things a time or two over the years, but he was too goddamn stubborn to go through with it, or too much of a coward.

Her life had to be fucked if she wanted to die badly enough to jump.

He stared at her wrist, not liking the bruising on her skin. He’d seen his share of evil things—done a lot of it himself—but he still didn’t like bruises on women.

Ramiro leaned against the barrier as close as he dared to get.

“Someone hurt you, baby girl?” he asked, keeping his voice low and soothing.

She startled anyway, her arms flailing for balance as she edged away from him, her toes curling around the edge of the concrete. Her face turned away from the hypnotizing traffic below to meet his gaze.

She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, sparkling with the warm glow of the flickering streetlight. Tears slipped out, following the path of others down her cheeks.

Something about this slip of a girl punched him right in the gut.

Ramiro cleared his throat, unable to look away. “Tell me who, and I’ll kill him for you,” he offered. He had enough blood on his hands. One more would barely mark his soul at this point.

Besides, the prick obviously deserved it, whoever he was, and killing someone would ease the ache that was building in his stomach.

The girl closed her eyes, more tears leaking out as her bottom lip trembled.

Ramiro used her distraction to heft himself up on the ledge, swinging his feet around to hang over the edge. Now he was close enough to grab her if it came to that. He tilted his head, peering up into her drenched face to watch her eyes open again.

They widened as they met his, her body swaying.

“Come on. Just give me a name,” he tempted her. “He should be facing death, not you.”

Her lips twisted, and her toes uncurled before curling around the edge again. “It wouldn’t change anything.”

“Maybe not, but at least I would feel better.” He shifted his hand, settling it over her right foot. His hand covered the whole damn thing. Her cold skin sent a chill through him. “How about you tell me why, at least?”

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