Page 96 of The Enforcer

Wiping away a tear, she frantically searched in her bag for her keys. She’d be long gone before he reached her.

Then, the world exploded.

CHAPTER 33

MARY

Mary was lifted from the floor as she got caught by the backlash of an explosion. Her back slammed against a car, knocking the wind out of her.

Coughing and wincing, she tried to get back on her feet. There was fire and flying pieces of debris everywhere. She scooted backwards and leaned against her car, trying to catch her breath. Cars were burning all around her. She had to get out of there. Two cars had crashed in the wall opposite her. Flames were coming out of them, reaching the low ceiling. It was a roadblock of fire and steel. A wall she had to somehow get over.

There was something she needed to remember. Something important.

Oh, God,Hector. Was he okay?

Crawling back to her feet, she winced when her ankle gave away. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to take a step. Then another one. Her bag lay three feet away, underneath a Hummer. She decided to leave it instead of going for her phone. Surely someone had heard the blast and had called the cops, an ambulance. Maybe even the National Guard. Was it a terrorist attack? A gas leak?

She looked for a way out, not seeing one. The feeling of being trapped intensified by a million. Her vision turned blurry because of the smoke biting into her eyes. She had to get on the other side of the wall. That was where the exit was.

Finally, she found a small space between two crushed cars; a dent in the steel wall.

Pushing and prodding, she inched through the gap. Something sharp caught her dress and pierced her thigh. Hissing in pain, she continued until she pulled through. A bout of fresh oxygen hit her when she got closer to the exit, almost making her high.

“Hector? Hector?!”

The other side of the ‘wall’ was one big chaotic mess. This must have been where the origin of the blast had happened.

There was a door to her right. It didn’t have a handle though. She figured it was an exit door from the club that could only be opened from the inside. She banged on it and yelled, but the door remained shut.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a movement. It was her bodyguard, plastered against a van, blood covering his stomach from a shard lodged into it.

She dropped at his side and pressed her hands on his wound. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here.”

His pupils were dilated, then his eyes widened, looking frantic. A hand went to his stomach.

“It’s going to be okay.” His fingers kept moving beneath him, as if he were looking for something.

A loud pop startled her. Her head shot back to the bodyguard and she nearly threw up. Half his face was gone.

Oh, God. Oh, God. It was no gas leak.

Told you so.

She quickly spun around. Before her, stood a man in Army fatigues and a buzz cut. In his hand, a large gun. She suddenly realized that Kristoff’s guy had been searching for his handgun.

“Get up,” the guy said. “I have no beef with you. I just want Diaz.”

That had to mean Hector was alive. Even though fear nearly paralyzed her, she held onto that thought. If Army Guy was looking for Hector, he probably wasn’t underneath the debris.

Letting go of the bodyguard, she rose to her feet. “What do you want with him?”

It was a no-brainer, but she had to keep him talking, buy herself time. That’s how it happened in the movies. Then the hero swept in at the last second and saved the girl. Except, she didn’t want Hector to sweep in; she wanted him to stay far away from this Rambo reject. Yes, she was furious with him. But if anyone was going to kill him, it would beher.

“Diaz murdered my brother.”

The words sounded cold. There was no passionate rage behind them. And that scared her more than anything.

“Your brother?” Hector was not a cold-blooded killer. Nothing he would say would make her believe that.

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