Page 27 of Hidden By His Side

“It’s not mine,” Ramiro said.

“Fuck that. Don’t make me hurt you, Ram. Whether by blood or not, if she’s yours, that baby is yours.”

“Just because you’re now a happy father doesn’t mean we’re all cut out for that.” Ramiro needed to stop thinking about what could have been. Summer wanted the child. It was time to set her up away from all the shit he brought into her life so she could truly be safe.

“So you’re willing to give herup?” Diego asked.

“It’s what needs to happen. For her and the baby.” The words left him cold, even if they were true.

Ramiro listened to the distant laugh of people passing the alley, heading to the club. The silence through the phone stretched until he started wondering if Diego had hung up on him.

“What bullshit,” Diego muttered. “Nobody likes a fucking martyr, Ram.”

Ramiro blew out a breath. “I’m not—”

“Tell that sneaky fucker that I’ll kill him if he lets you die tonight.”

Ramiro’s brows drew together. “Are you going soft on me, Diego?”

“Soft? Fuck that. I took what I wanted after killing the asshole who had it. From where I’m sitting, you’re the pathetic one.” Then Diego really did hang up on him.

Ramiro sighed, lowering the phone. His friend wasn’t wrong. He really was pathetic.

Making sure the cartel learned from their mistake would ease the feeling.

He was still tempted to kill that prick boyfriend of hers, but the boyfriend was less of a physical threat. The cartel came first.

Ramiro pulled up the feed on his phone. Women’s laughter filtered into the car, but it didn’t include Summer’s voice. He watched her face, seeing the same defeat he’d seen back in the office.

Did she really want this baby or was she stuck with her Bible-thumping parents’ voices in her head, the same ones who’d blamed their daughter for being raped?

He studied Summer’s forced smile. She clutched some fruity concoction in her friends’ apartment. At least she was out of that dress from the night before. She wore a loose cotton skirt and a T-shirt with flowers scattered on it and the phrase Grow Positive Thoughts.

She was so fucking beautiful, even with the bags under her eyes and the faked happiness.

Could he really let her go if she decided to keep the baby? His hand began to sweat around his phone. The thought of not having her near him was as anxiety inducing as the thought of holding a fragile baby in his hands.

A shadow fell over the screen. “Stalker.”

Ramiro wasn’t surprised he’d missed Ash slipping into the car. “You’re one to talk,” he said.

Asher Mendez was a sneaky fucker, just as Diego said. Where Diego excelled at video surveillance, and Hayes could find anything linked to the internet, Ash was the one you sent in directly. He was a goddamn ghost when he wanted to be, even though he was right in front of you.

Tonight he was dressed like a typical club crawler—designer dark-washed jeans, a black button-down shirt with the top few buttons undone, and dark hair styled as if he’d just rolled out of bed and planned on going back soon.

Ash’s lips tilted up in a smirk. “Stop checking me out.”

“The women are going to be all over you,” Ramiro said.

“Let me worry about that. Ovidio Guzman is on the second floor in one of the VIP rooms. Four with him, another two outside, plus plenty spread around the club. There’s a back hallway attached to the rooms. That’s the best exit once the hit is done, as long as they don’t kill you on sight.” Ash’s voice sounded bored, as if he didn’t give a shit how the night played out.

He probably didn’t, but he was still the best backup. Diego had too much to lose. Hayes never left his goddamn house unless Ramiro forced him to. Naz was injured and wouldn’t make it through the doors. Neither would Seb. They’d both been burned with the cartel. That left Asher Mendez, and he was worth every penny Ramiro paid him, even if he didn’t care about anything in the world.

That worked best. He had nothing to lose and no fear of dying.

Not that they were going to die that night. It was time to send another message to the Guzmans, and targeting Ovidio was the best way to do it. He was the one in charge. The cartel would scatter with the oldest Guzman brothers dead and the last one in prison.

“I’ll give you ten minutes,” Ramiro said.

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