Page 186 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

I grab it out of his hand as I step up on my toes, stealing a quick kiss from his lips, needing it like I need air to breathe.

“Come on.” The time for questions can wait. I have to stop Diaz before he’s gone forever.

* * *

I findDiaz heading toward the pier. Drago races past me, running faster with his longer legs.

At first glance, I’m confused. Sebastian stops at the end, but there is nothing there.

Is he planning on jumping in? If so, we can’t let that happen. Drowning isn’t the way I want to see him die. He deserves so much worse and a lot more pain. I want him to experience the same pain and agony I have.

Yet, I doubt it’s possible for a man like Sebastian Diaz to feel any sense of loss or despair. I doubt he even knows the meaning of either of those. He’s so used to taking from people that I can’t fathom Diaz has had much stripped from him.

Drago is gaining on him when I see him pull out what I’m guessing is a cell phone from the pocket of his pants. Whoever he was contacting, or was doing on the device, is interrupted as D tackles him. They both crash to the ground, but it’s Sebastian who’s on his feet first.

Diaz produces a handgun, raising it and firing before I can stop in my tracks to aim at him. Without looking, I know Drago’s been hit. I’m about to pull the trigger when he turns, sneering at me. A second later he jumps off the pier.

Drago is off the ground in an instant, jumping off after Diaz.

When I get to the end, ready to jump into the water after them, I come to an abrupt stop. It’s then it registers that I didn’t hear a splash when either of them would have hit the water.

Just above the surface of the water is a submarine with the top opened. The opening is large, telling me the vessel below the water isn’t a small watercraft, but at the same time can’t be huge or even close to the size of military grade.

I have no idea what the depth of the water underneath me is, but in all my time on the police force, I’ve never seen a submarine up close or even this close to the shore.

Was that what Diaz was doing on his phone? Was he bringing it to the surface to use as his getaway?

The time for questions is later. I have to find them. Drago was shot. Injured, Diaz would have the upper hand, making it easier to kill D.

I hop off the pier, landing four feet below and quickly climb over the open lid and down the ladder. It’s dark inside with minimal lighting, but the space is large and filled with things wrapped in plastic wrap. My first thought: drugs. But inspection will have to wait.

I run past the stacked merchandise, or dope, and see Drago and Diaz in a scuffle. They are both taking fists to their faces and ribs, each landing blow after blow to one another. Taking a stance, I aim my weapon, waiting until I’m able to get a clear shot on Diaz before firing. I won’t chance hitting D.

“Freeze,” I yell, commanding Diaz to stop. Even as I say the words I’ve been trained to say, I know he’s not going to obey my order.

I finally get my opening when a punch to Drago’s jaw knocks him to the ground. I pull the trigger as Diaz raises his gun to shoot D. He’s already shot him once and I have no idea how bad his wound is; I won’t let him get another round off.

My aim is steady, so when I pull my finger slowly back, releasing the round, Diaz goes down before he’s able to fire his gun.

I race over to where they both lay on the ground and first kick Diaz’s weapon away from him. The pussy is too busy grabbing his leg to have enough sense to go for it. The gun he stole from me is lying closer to Drago, so it must have fallen out of his back pocket during their hand-to-hand combat.

Stepping left, I crouch down, immediately pulling Drago into my arms and guide him as gently as possible until his back is against a wall.

“Please tell me you’re okay.” I start looking for his gunshot wound to inspect it myself.

“I’m fine,” he says through gritted teeth, a hiss following.

“You’ve been shot. You’re not fine.” He grabs my hand, squeezing before I can lift his T-shirt.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“I doubt that. You’re covered in blood and you’re in a hell of a lot of pain.”

“Didn’t say it didn’t hurt like a motherfucker. But it’s just a graze. I’ll be fine. Don’t you need to call for backup or something?”

“Fuck backup. You need an ambulance.”

“You better get backup, bitch,” Diaz yells. “Because you’re dead. Fucking dead, you hear me.”

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