Page 127 of Guarded

“Se me olvidó otra vez. Que solo yo te quise.”The screeching voice next to me sings with the jukebox.

I hate this fucking song.

I lift my head to find Louie singing obnoxiously to Lucha Villa and drop my head back to the bar counter.

“Shut up, Louie.”

I must have passed out at the bar again, which was nothing new these days. My vision blurs, and my head is throbbing.

I find the strength to pull myself up and stumble through the halls to one of the back rooms. The spinning starts, so I lay down on the bed and close my eyes. What day is it? Tuesday?

The spinning subsides, and I can finally slip into the comfort of my nightmare. It was comforting compared to the reality I’m living. I’d still see Ariella there. She would leave me all over again, but I could see her.

I’m passed out on the bed when I hear the knocking.

“Go away,” I grumble.

When the door bursts open, I groan at the light that peers in.

“You look like shit,” Silas says.

“Fuck you,” I reply. Closing my eyes

“¡Ya bájale de huevos! I brought you a gift.”

My eyes spring open when I hear the bark. Guapo runs, jumps on the bed, and licks my face.

“Princess Peach couldn’t keep him, and he was whining a lot at the house. Figured you could both be sad fucks together.”

Guapo cuddles into me. I try and sit up, but the blood rushing to my head is too much.

Fucking Modelo.

My head falls back, and Guapo begins barking. The hangover caused a brief delay in my reaction, but panic takes root inside me.

“Where is Ariella?” I say, my body shooting up to face the blurred figure before me.

“You’re a fucking mess,” Silas says, his gaze skimming over the empty Modelo cans and bags of Whataburger scattered throughout the room.

“You came all the way over here to tell me that?” Wincing, I look up at the arrogant bastard standing in the doorway.

“No, I came here to tell you to get the fuck up. We have a meeting with Savino Biondini to make a truce.”

I should have known something was up when Silas wore a flannel and jeans. Clothing he swapped for designer suits after stepping down from the club to pursue other things.

By other things, I mean kidnapping his wife after faking his death. Admirable, to say the least, but I’m not a kingpin, and if I try kidnapping Ariella, one of her family members would shoot me on sight. I know. I thought of it a million times already.

“Where’s Ariella?” I ask again.

“I’ll tell you on the way. Get dressed. And leave the dog.”

“Where are we meeting?” I ask.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

It takesan hour to get to Savino Biondini’s house. We ride to the tunnels and wait for a large SUV filled with several of his men to retrieve us.

Taking a huge fucking risk Silas and I are forced to give up our cellphones and weapons. Hoods cover our heads during the length of the ride.

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