Page 61 of Hostile King

“I’m back here,” I call out, reluctant to climb off Tomás even though my legs are cramping.

Birdsong catches my attention in the eerie lull until there’s a squeak and a shudder. Metal rubs on metal and blinding light blasts in on us as the shutter door whips upwards. I squint, my blurry eyes focusing on the bulky figure inspecting the bloodied mess he’s found us in.

Alpine trees surround him like vigilant soldiers, densely packed together in a natural wall that tames the high Mexican sun. He leans inside and scans the entire space. At the same time, clean air mixes with the dry heat that had baked us in here for far too long. It’s cleaner than the city smog and less humid, yet still sweltering.

“He looks in bad shape.”

His brittle honesty sprinkles chills down my sweat laden spine. I dab my brow and inhale his pine fresh scent.

“Before I take you to my place, you should know that I detest organized crime gangs. He ain't no god of the streets when he’s in my territory. If you choose to follow me and he dies, it’s on you, not me. Understood?”

A layer of scruffy hair covers his strong jawline in a casually messy beard and blends into darker lengths pulled back and secured at his nape. Rich coffee-colored eyes clash with mine, the intensity fierce, his bitterness unmistakable.

“This has nothing to do with the cartel. Right now, he’s just a man who needs your help.El Fantasmatold me you have surgical skills. I believe you’ll do whatever it takes to keep Tomás alive.”

He folds muscular arms over a navy blue shirt scattered with white palm trees. Its buttons are mostly fastened, except for the top three which give me a peek at his swarthy skin and ink adorned chest, the designs creeping out from beneath the sleeves ending above his elbows. The tails hang loose over his army green cargo shorts.

There’s a crazy resemblance to el Fantasma’sstyle, but this guy doesn't look at me like a friend. His eyes hold hateful secrets I’d rather not know.

“There’s only so much I can do. Looks like he’s lost a lot of blood already. He’ll be lucky to make it to the lodge.”

My heart dives. “Please…you’re our only hope. Take a look at the injury first. The bullet went straight through. We can cauterize it at least. I’d be forever in your debt.” He thumbs his full lips and nods slowly, his stance growing somewhat predatory on that thought. “Cauterizing won’t work if there’s internal damage. I’ll check his organs. It’s risky as fuck, and I don’t want a drug lord’s blood on my hands.”

“It’s not on your hands,” I say in a rush, time ticking quicker than my racing pulse. “This was my decision. If something goes wrong, it will be my fault for not taking him to the hospital.”

“What is he to you, girl?” His thick voice offers non-negotiable authority, because we all know he has the upper hand.

“I love him.” The beat of my heart skitters on my admission, the audible declaration odd as it leaves my throat.

I’ve never loved another soul on this earth aside from the people I’m lucky enough to call family. So, this is a revelation. An anomaly. The harsh truth.

He shakes his head and gives me a scowl that depicts pure disgust. “They don’t deserve love, or compassion. If I do this, it's because of our mutual friend. I won’t hesitate to put a cap in your skull if I see any of those cunts sniffing around my property. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” I swallow hard, my throat so dry it feels scratchy and swollen.

“Right then. Give me your phone.” He rubs a hand down his face like he’s frustrated with his decision. “That includes you too, big guy. No phones and no guns.”

“No fucking way…” Shane snarls from the driver seat. “You think I’ll hand over my piece and deliver my people into a fucking ambush set up by some feral fucker. Think again, Tarzan.”

Enrique shrugs, his hefty boots scuffing the gravel as he takes an uncaring step away from the truck.

“No worries,” he says absentmindedly. “The nearest hospital is an hour away, back down that track. I’d say your boss has less than ten minutes before his heart gives up and his brain fades to shit.”

Stone cold nonchalance meets his unempathetic monotone. He grips the strap slung over his shoulder making the rifle attached to it dance behind his back.

“Nos vemos en el infierno, big guy.”

See you in hell.

“Wait!” I lunge forward, the rapid movement breaking the seal I’d secured over the wound with my knee. “Take them. They’re all upfront with Shane.” My head rotates towards the windshield where I face Shane’s highbrow, exasperated expression. “Shane. Give the ranger what he wants. My eyes dart to Tomás’ golden revolver tucked neatly against my shin, out of sight. Sal had told me to keep it close, and if I can, I would hide it somewhere. “This is the only way he’ll comply. You heard him. Tomás won’t survive another journey. It’s all or nothing.”

“Bastard,” Shane mutters. “Just so we're clear, I don’t need a gun to cause fatal injuries. If you come for us, I’ll rip your jugular open with my fucking teeth.”

“Christ,” Enrique chuckles darkly. “And you think I'm the undomesticated one. I have a three-legged coyote with more class than you. Bitches bite and slap. Men use their fists.”

He reaches up and grabs a hold of the shutter.

“Anyway, I was raised with manners. You respect me and stay the fuck out of my business, and I’ll let you leave with all of your body parts intact.”

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