Page 105 of Hidden By His Side

Ash was already there, and they lifted together.

Ramiro glared over at where Ash held his legs. “You could have told me he was bleeding out.”

“You’ve got eyes.” Ash shifted the legs to one hand to open the passenger door. They maneuvered Seb in as gently as they could.

“I’m fine,” Seb slurred, his head still slumped over.

“You’re all fucking idiots,” Ramiro muttered, shutting him in and rounding the car. “You good here?” he called back to Ash, receiving an impassive nod before the other man turned away.

Ash wasn’t happy, but Ramiro could only deal with one thing at a time.

Ovidio was alive. He’d left Summer alone. The knowledge beat in his head, trying to distract him.

The doctor came first. Seb was bleeding out on his leather seats.

He dialed Summer hands-free, and let the sound of her sleepy voice soothe him as he drove.

Ramiro regretted not putting a camera in their bedroom. He’d tried to look at the feed, but none of the cameras had shown him Summer safe and sound.

He’d been winding himself up to an all new level of worry, and there she lay, wrapped up in the blankets, sound asleep. Her blonde hair splayed over her pillow while her face tucked into his, as if seeking his scent. Her still bare shoulder looked pale and vulnerable where the sheet had slipped down.

Ramiro brushed a kiss over her shoulder that made her shiver before tugging the blanket up to cover it. All he wanted was to slip into bed and drag her into his arms.

Ramiro headed to the shower instead. Seb’s blood had soaked into his black dress shirt.

He pulled out his phone, shooting off another text to Hayes asking for progress on tracking down Ovidio. The fucker had to be somewhere off-grid, but Hayes would find something now that he had the vet’s location.

Ramiro wouldn’t feel settled until he made sure every member of the cartel still clinging to the sinking ship the Guzmans had become was dead. He usually stuck to the fringes and killed only those necessary, but he couldn’t handle the paranoia eating at him. Summer’s safety, and her daughter’s, was too important.

That her daughter was part of the package had him staring at the tiles of the shower as the water pounded on his back. Summer hadn’t decided to keep the baby, but Ramiro hoped she did. Excitement sped up his heartbeat. He still couldn’t imagine being comfortable holding her daughter or changing diapers or with the shrill cries that would interrupt their sleep, but the image of Summer curled up with the baby in her arms and a gentle smile on her lips wouldn’t go away. He wanted that, despite everything that came with it.

He might absolutely suck at it, but he wanted to be that baby’s father.

Ramiro shut off the water, toweled dry, and opened the bathroom door, intent on holding his world in his arms.

Summer’s terrified eyes met his in the shaft of light from the bathroom. A tanned hand with a gaudy ring covered her mouth. Ovidio stood behind her next to the bed, his smile adding to the building rage inside Ramiro as the man’s other hand settled over her naked breast, her sweetly curved and vulnerable belly visible below.

Ramiro lunged, but he didn’t make it to the bed. There were too many of them, dragging him down to the carpet, feet already kicking into his sides and glancing off his head.

Summer’s muffled scream kept his body from curling. Pained grunts slid out of him in something closer to snarls as he lashed out, inching his body closer before another kick sent his head spinning, and the next felt like it snapped his jaw.

“Ram! No, don’t hurt him!”

Pain dug into his sides as the kicking continued. Time stretched in an unending pain of not being able to reach her, not even being able to crawl anymore.

“That’s it. Let him hear you, sweetheart,” Ovidio taunted.

Summer screamed in terror, and Ramiro grabbed a leg, trying to break it, but his weak twist just knocked the man off-balance. That made a hole, and he scrambled through it, trying to get to her.

“Fucking hold him,” Ovidio barked out to his men.

Hands clamped down on his shoulders, hauling him back, but he bit one and snapped his throbbing head back into someone else. The man’s pained cry was less than satisfying, not with Summer sobbing. He broke free, lunging toward the bed.

“Fuck!” Ovidio shouted.

All Ramiro could see was Summer’s drenched blue eyes, the panic and fear in them as she screamed his name.

The gunshot was loud, and he let out his own scream, worried he was too late, that she was dead.

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