by Shanna Bell
“Fine. You get your wish; let’s go a round. Go change, I’ll be waiting to kick your ass.”
Kristoff shook his head. “No need to change. I’m good.”
“You want to fight wearing a suit?”
“I like my suit.”
Whatever. He’d given him a fair warning. “It’s your funeral.”
Kristoff slowly pulled up his sleeves.
Hector smirked. Yeah, like that was gonna help him.
“By the way, I have a newsflash for you,” Kristoff said, matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“Mary’s pregnant.”
The words nearly knocked him off his feet. They were going to have a baby? Before he could process that, stars exploded. He went down. Hard.
Hector sat back on his haunches, trying to process not only that his brother had a mean upper-cut, but also what he’d said.
“I’m gonna have another kid.”
“Da. It was meant to light a fire under your ass. Now get up and go get your woman.”
Hector couldn’t find the words. The joy of becoming a father again was quickly overshadowed by the thought that now he had another person to protect from Decker.
When he didn’t move, Kristoff frowned. “You want her to stay with me,” he guessed. “Even when you can’t stand me. What is going on? Who’s after you?”
Hector jumped back on his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth. “What makes you think someone’s after me?”
“Why else would you want your woman and kid to stay with me?”
He didn’t want to tell Kristoff shit. This wasn’t his problem. Not his family.
“Don’t let your pride get in the way of your family,” Kristoff warned.
He snapped his mouth shut. Maybe Kristoff had a point. Besides, what did he have to lose? Both his men and the FBI were looking for a lunatic in a city of millions, coming up with nothing. Kristoff might have other resources. Maybe, for once, he could be useful.
So, he told him about Decker. Every little detail he could think of.
“I expected her to go to Jazzy,” he admitted. “She probably went to you to piss me off and because, God knows why, she seems to like you. And I’m okay with that because your house is a freakin’ fortress. But you can’t tell her. She’ll insist on returning home.”
“You sent her away, so she won’t get hurt. So your life doesn’t touch and sully her. I understand.”
There was an odd tone in his brother’s voice, and Hector frowned. Was he trying to say—?
“Don’t you fucking go there.”
“You are my only blood in this world. I couldn’t let you live on the streets with me.”
“So you left me to fend for myself? Do you have any idea how many homes I was placed in? How many times my ‘new dad’ thought to pick on me just because I was bigger than him? I don’t know what was worse. The racist assholes or the ones that brought out their belt to ‘teach’ me stuff.”
“You mean Peter Willis, Donald White, and James Pratt?”
That stopped his rant. “How do you know about them?” He didn’t even remember their first names, only their last, because he was always told to call them “Mr.”
“You didn’t think I’d let anyone who tortured my brother live, did you?”
“Fuck.”
I can’t deal with this right now.
Kristoff straightened his jacket and jumped out of the ring. “I’ll make sure Mary has eyes on her all times. Let’s go, Damon.”
“Pay up.” Damon held up his hand to Achilles.
His friend gave Hector a disgusted look. “I can’t believe you lost.”
He would gladly lose a thousand times if it meant he would get the same great news. Mary’s pregnancy gave him a new burst of energy.
“Call off every man you have on me. Decker will know when I’m no longer trailed. And find a way to distract the men the feds have put on me. Decker will come out of hiding when he thinks I’m alone.” From what Gonzales had told him, Decker wanted to look him in the eye before he killed him.
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t care. Just do as I say.” He would be the perfect bait. Walk around town, showing Decker his unprotected belly, so he would finally make a move.
No way was he letting Mary go through her pregnancy alone.
This ended tonight.
CHAPTER 32
MARY
The last thing on Mary’s mind was to go clubbing. She’d been perfectly fine with her butt planted on the couch, accompanied by chocolate and her e-reader. That is, after she’d had a group call with her cousin and Tess, bawling her eyes out like a little girl.
That was sad, really.
I know.
You have to stop sponsoring Kleenex.
If it hadn’t been for Tommie insisting that he needed a “wing woman,” she would’ve stayed home instead of hoisting herself into a dress and driving him over to Flux. She couldn’t even use Zoe as an excuse. The little girl was treated like a princess at Casa Kristoff, with the staff doting on her.
“Are you going to be a sour puss all night?” Tommie asked.
“Maybe.”
“See, this is why I had to get you out of that house. You were becoming a hermit.”
Tommie had turned exaggeration into an art form.
“I’ve only been at Kristoff’s for three days. During which time, yes, I didn’t leave the house, but I would hardly call that becoming a hermit.”
“Do I have to remind you that I literally gave you a nudge and pushed you out of the door?”
“I was mourning.” She took a sip of her strawberry virgin cocktail.
“Really, who died?” Tommie’s snark was sometimes worse than her inner voice.
She sighed. “My marriage. At least, that’s what it feels like.”
Tommie wrapped an arm around her. She loved his comfort. At the same time, it reminded her of how Hector had always touched her. Anytime they were in the same room, he was close to her. Funny how she’d never realized that before. For a grumpy guy, he was awfully touch-feely around her.
“Your marriage isn’t dead, baby girl. It’s more… in hibernation for reasons yet unknown. Whatever Hector’s deal is for pulling a stunt like this, I’m sure he has a reason. That man loves you.”
She had believed so as well. He’d never said the words, but she had felt loved by him. That had to count for something, right? If she could only figure out what had changed.
“I was expecting him to come to his senses by now,” she admitted. In her mind, he came running back to her with a perfectly good explanation on why he’d asked for a separation. Then, of course, she would make him squirm a bit—what woman wouldn’t—and eventually forgive him. All of which was followed by a sappy Hollywood-style happily-ever-after. Reese Witherspoon could star in their movie. Of course, Joe Manganiello would play Hector.
“And I’m sure he will.”
She chugged the rest of her drink down. “Okay, enough about my pity party. We came here to hook you up. But first, I need another drink.”
She hopped off the chair and walked toward the bar. That’s when she saw them.
Her husband. Standing at the bar. With some redhead drooling over him.
Anger churned in her belly. Suddenly, his breaking things off wasn’t a mystery at all. The only mystery was how in God’s name she could have been so naive, making up excuses for him.
He must have a reason?
Really, Mary? Really?
Ha!
Sappy Hollywood happily-ever-after? Their story was going to be shown during Horror Nights!
“Oh, crap.”
She ignored Tommie and strode over to Hector.
“Mmm.” The redhead crooned, her breasts practically falling out of a tight top. “Let me have another taste of that monster cock.”
Pain lodged in her throat. Then, fury took over.
Hector blinked when he saw her. “Mary?” He sounded alarmed. “Shit. Y
ou shouldn’t be here.”
She debated between throwing a drink in his face or slapping him. Both excellent classics to cause a scene. In the end, she went with her first instinct: she kneed him in the balls.
He doubled over and grabbed on to the edge of the bar. When his head snapped up, she decided to go a second round, smacking him in the face.
“I don’t know how long this has been going on, but at least tonight, you won’t be fucking her.” She spun around, heading for the door, keeping her head high and her back ramrod straight.
“Mary!”
She ignored the yell and put a hand on her belly. “Sorry, peanut. Your dad is an a-s-s and doesn’t deserve either of us.”
Going into the underground parking lot, she was suddenly reminded that she’d left Tommie inside. She gave him a call, but he didn’t answer.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted a man following her. Kristoff had given her a bodyguard, without asking her. Honestly, she didn’t feel like she needed one and she’d protested, but he gave her a firm ‘nyet.’ Apparently, that hadn’t been up for debate. She waved at the bodyguard, silently telling him she was sorry that he had to trail after her all day.
Her heels clicked on the black pavement, echoing in the dimly-lit space. They should really do something about the lighting. Her heart constricted when she passed Hector’s Harley. It was parked in the opposite row as her car.
“Mary! Wait!”
She ignored Hector yelling after her. Ignored his tall, bulky frame following her into the parking lot.
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 quickly kneeled 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. His 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 be her.
“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.
“John Michael Decker. My only kin.”
Where had she heard that name before? Oh. Her eyes widened. Hector’s tattoo. His fallen brother he had honored on his chest.
“That can’t be right. I know Hector, he wouldn’t—”
“You don’t know shit,” he spat. “Did you know they left him in the desert? They left him there to rot. All of them! His brothers-in-arms left him there to turn into a carcass to be picked clean. But I showed them, every one of them, what it feels like to die from the inside. To die at the top of their happiness, when they believed everything was right in their world. Just like I did.”
“I… I’m really sorry about your brother.” Part of her felt sad for this man. Something inside of him was broken, and he was trying to mend back the pieces. Maybe, just maybe, she could break through to him. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t want this for you.”
“Shut up! Shut your damn mouth. You don’t know anything about him. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you keep talking, I will.”
Staring down the barrel of a gun, she believed him. There was this deranged look in his eyes.
He waved his gun at her to move toward him. An arm constricted around her upper body, keeping her close to him.
“Diaz!” He scanned the parking lot. “I have your woman. It’s time to say goodbye. Show yourself!”
CHAPTER 34
HECTOR
It was a sight he would never forget; his worst nightmare. Before him stood the love of his life with a gun pressed against her temple. Hector’s mind exploded at the thought of living in a world without Mary. Every muscle in his body tensed and his hands tightened around his gun.
Decker stood behind Mary, sizing him up. Hector knew what the man was doing. He was taking in his minor injuries; the blood trickling from his arm. He’d been lucky, though, just passing a big van when the explosion happened. The vehicle took the brunt of the bang.
“I’m here. Let her go, Decker. This is between you and me.”
“Drop your weapon! Now. Or I will splatter her brains all over the wall.”
Hector knew it was no use trying to talk Decker down. He’d already killed three people, put one in the hospital, and blew up a parking lot just to get to him.
All Hector wanted was to get Mary out of the equation. To get her as far away from here as possible.
“No!” Mary yelled, shaking her head. “Please don’t.”
Decker tigh
tened his chokehold on Mary until his woman was fighting to breathe.
“Shut up,” he hissed.
Hector dropped his weapon. “Please. Don’t hurt her. Let her go. She’s pregnant.” This seemed to have Decker taken aback and Hector immediately honed in on that. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just, let her go. You don’t want the death of an unborn child on your conscience. You used to protect and serve, soldier.”
Decker let go of the stranglehold he had on Mary and pushed her away from him.
Unable to stand on her feet, Mary fell to her knees. She grabbed her ankle and winced.
Seeing her in pain killed him. He wished he could just scoop her up and get her out of this place. Wished he could protect her from what was about to happen.
“On your knees, Marine!” Decker snarled. His voice echoed in the partially-collapsed garage.
Hector did as Decker asked, his eyes on Mary. She was staring at him through tears. Her nose was blotchy from crying and her eyes red-rimmed from the smoke and tears.
“There it is,” Decker said. “The look I’ve been waiting for. It was there on every one of you fuckers’ faces. You should have seen Hawk when he knew it was the last time he would see his wife.”
“It wasn’t Hawk who died though, was it?” Hector said.
A pulse jumped in Decker’s jaw. “That was an accident. Either way, the fucker deserves the agony. I’ll finish him once I’m done with you. This is the last time you’ll see your wife, Diaz. Make peace with it.”
“Hector…”
“No,” Decker snapped at Mary who was kneeled before him. “You don’t get to say anything. He doesn’t get to hear your last words to him before he dies. Just like I didn’t get to say them to my brother.”
She didn’t have to say the words. Mary’s face had always been an open book. He’d known for some time now. Had hoped for it. To receive the greatest treasure in the world; Mary’s heart. It was a special kind of cruelty for Decker to deny him hearing those words from her lips. But it didn’t matter. Not when he could see her love for him.