Page 5 of Pulse

He nodded as relief flooded him. “That’s good, baby, keep—”

Her spine snapped straight, and she whirled left, lifting the rifle back up.

“Camila!” he screamed as his gaze locked on her tensed trigger finger.

It sounded as though every gun in the room fired at once.

Bullets entered Camila’s body from all angles, jerking her in an unnatural but unmistakable way.

“No!” Enrique screamed so loud Max’s ears rang. He lurched forward with a feral cry only to be slammed back on the ground by the one agent not shooting.

Max stood frozen, staring at the body of the woman he’d pretended to love crumpled to the ground. Inside, he wailed as long and loud as Enrique, but he couldn’t move a muscle. He should scream. He should cry and try to attack the agents. It would help his cover, and it was what he wanted to do.

But he stood paralyzed.

Camila didn’t move. She lay in a lifeless heap with a crimson pool expanding all around her.

She wasn’t supposed to be there.

Why was she there?

He’d tried so damn hard to keep her from the fallout of her family’s business.

But he’d failed.

And now she was dead.

Was it worth it? Were the lives saved by ending the Del Rios Cartel worth more than the ones lost in the process?

The day he’d accepted this position, he’d believed that. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Four years deep undercover fucked with his head, heart, and soul in a way he might never recover from.

For one heart-stopping second, the warehouse fell deathly silent.

Then all hell broke loose.

For his part, Max stood staring at Camila’s body until someone finally dragged him to a waiting DEA vehicle.

He rested his head against the rear window, his gaze still fixated on the slain body.

I’m sorry, Camila.

He barely noticed the agents who slipped into the front seat and drove toward the government detention center.

“Heard you’ve been in four years,” the driver said after a few minutes of riding in silence.

Max merely stared at the shrinking warehouse as they drove away.

His partner gasped. “Four years? Shit, you must be glad this shit is over, huh?”

It was over all right—permanently for Camila.

And for Max too.

CHAPTER ONE

“PULSE,I THINK I’m getting sick. Can you look at my throat?”

The only thing louder than Jinx’s laugh was his whine, and his laugh broke the sound barrier, which made listening to him whine unbearable.

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