Page 81 of Blurred Red Lines
“You’re lying.”
“Think so? It’s a shame he had to rip that sexy, little black number to shreds when he gutted her. I’ll admit, she looked hot in it. I must know, Valentin, is it true? Does the carpet match the drapes?”
I saw red. I didn’t care about stalling. I didn’t care about anything but getting to Eden.
“Motherfucker!” I landed a sharp elbow into his stomach, immediately getting rewarded with a forceful grunt as he doubled over. Taking advantage of his vulnerable position, I twisted and grabbed the wrist holding the gun. Regaining his footing, he cursed, slamming me into the side of the building. Still holding his wrist with my left hand, I grabbed his throat with the right. “What did you do to her, you piece of shit traitor? If Muñoz touched her, I’ll see you both in hell!”
He coughed as a sadistic smile crept along his face. “You’re not the only one who knows how to forge alliances, boy. You take from me, little Val, and I take from you.”
The images in my mind swirled a torrid mix of blind rage and indescribable pain. Past and present raced toward one point in time and collided. The six-year old boy in me, and the twenty-nine-year old man I’d become, converged and imploded as history repeated itself before my eyes.
Everything moved in slow motion. Guzman landed a punch to my stomach, causing me to loosen my hold on his throat. Gaining leverage, he wrestled the gun out of my grasp. Seeing the gun tucked in my waistband, he tossed it behind him, then aimed his own gun at my chest.
“Your old man fought me, too, Valentin. I wonder if I’ll get the same pleasure in watching you bleed out?” Steadying his hand, he tightened his finger around the trigger.
Without a weapon to protect myself, I held his gaze and waited. The last thing I’d do on this earth wouldn’t be giving this asshole the satisfaction of looking away while he killed me. An arrogant smile lifted the edges of his thick mustache as the gun went off, the blast echoing in my ears long after the shot rang out.
My last thought was of Eden. I wish I could’ve said goodbye. Without a doubt, I knew we weren’t headed to the same place. She’d have everlasting life. I’d burn for eternity.
I waited for the pain…the blood…the coldness that told me I’d left this world.
None of it happened.
I ran my hands over my still dry shirt when I noticed blood seeping from the corners of Guzman’s mouth. Frozen in the darkness, I watched as his eyes rolled back in his head moments before his knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground.
Tearing my fixated stare away, I glanced up to see Mateo standing behind him, his arm extended, and smoke still fuming from his gun. His eyes were a dangerous black with a depth of hatred I’d never seen from him.
“Mateo?”
“When we take our pledge, we do it with honor.” Looking down at Guzman’s lifeless body, he spit on him without remorse. “A man is nothing without honor. Death is mercy for a traitor.”
There was more to say, but it’d have to wait for another time. Only one thing burned in my mind.
Eden.
“Car, Mateo. Where’s the car?”
He pointed around the building. “Across the street. What’s happened?” Following behind me, he nodded toward Guzman. “Should I call a cleaner?”
“Fuck it,” I growled. “Let it be a message. Leave him for whatever wild animal gives a shit enough to eat him.” Grabbing my gun off the ground, I hit the speed dial button to Eden’s number and cursed as it rang repeatedly with no answer. “Damn it!” Disconnecting the call, I hit redial, and got the same result.
“Boss?”
Bile rose in my throat as fear conjured my mother’s screams from a place in my mind I never allowed myself to revisit. Eventually, her voice became Eden’s, and I had to forcefully swallow vomit.
“They have Eden.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
EDEN
The gun shookas I pressed two fingers against Joaquin’s neck.
Dead.
The bartender from Houston in me wanted to scream and cry as I stood over the young man whose throat had been slit. His only crime was protecting me.
However, the kidnapped woman in me, who’d lived through my brother’s execution, endless days of captivity, shootings, bombings, and a volatile affair with the drug lord who arranged it all, shut my fucking mouth and took his gun.
