Sylvia stepped forward. “The only difference is, if you hurt Bowie, they’ll be able to bury what’s left of you in a matchbox. Put the gun down and untie him.”
It felt like an hour passed between Sylvia’s words and the sound of the gun clattering to the floor beside him. His hands were so numb that he didn’t even realize the ropes were gone until his shoulders protested when they flopped to his sides. He sat frozen, unsure what he was supposed to do.
“Come here, angel.”
Bowie stood, managing about two steps before the woman lunged for the gun on the ground. He kicked it towards Javier, who looked at her like she was ridiculous. “Really?”
She was still on her knees. Bowie hadn’t expected remorse or tearful regrets, but he certainly hadn’t expected the venom in her words. “What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway. Why shouldn’t you lose something you love, too?” Javier picked up the gun Bowie had kicked to him, looking conflicted until she said, “This isn’t over, you know. Giordano’s dead. The senior Giordano. They’re going to think you did it, too. You’ll wish I’d just killed your littlekotik. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a federal prison.”
Bowie tried to process that bit of information, but Javier just waved her off. “You’re lucky I don’t kill women, bitch.”
A slow smirk spread across her face until Sylvia stepped forward. “I do.”
The shot echoed through the building, deafening Bowie as he blinked at the perfect hole directly between the woman’s eyes. “She didn’t even tell us her name,” he mused a split second before his body began to shake.
From this angle, Bowie could see that they had most definitely not come alone. There had to be at least ten other men in the factory. Bowie had never even heard them. Not so much as a boot scuffing over the concrete. And he’d thought ballet dancers were light on their feet.
“You good, angel?”
Bowie nodded, looking at Sylvia. “You shot her in the head.”
She patted his cheek with the hand not holding the weapon. “Nobody messes with our family,dulce chico. It’s bad for business.”
“Remind me never to piss off your family,” Bowie said breathlessly.
“She means you, angel.”
Bowie could feel the grin spread across his face, even though there was a dead body three feet away. “Oh.”
“You’re going to have to let me go eventually.”
Javier only tightened his grip on Bowie’s body. “I can’t.”
They were lying in bed, Bowie playing little spoon, hair still damp from their shower. Javier didn’t care. He kept his nose buried there, inhaling the scent of him. He’d almost lost him. That crazy bitch had tried to kill Bowie, not once but twice. Javier had taken Bowie’s chaotic life and turned it into a tsunami. Yet, Bowie was still there, teasing him like he hadn’t just spent hours in some dirty brewery, waiting to die.
Javier was surprised Bowie hadn’t told him to fuck off, hadn’t begged to be sent back to LA, back to his real life. But Bowie was handling this with far more serenity than Javier could have ever predicted. He seemed more fascinated than anything, grilling Javier on how he’d managed to pull off his rescue.
Bowie gave a huge sigh. “I’m fine. Everybody’s fine. Though, you’re holding me so tight my hands are starting to go numb again.”
Javier released him instantly, rolling him onto his back and picking up his arms, examining his bandaged wrists, relieved when he saw the deep wounds weren’t bleeding through the cotton. “Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, voice tight.
Bowie pulled his hands away, looking up at Javier with exasperation. “What is wrong with you?” he asked with a laugh. “I was the one who was kidnapped. I’m the one who still has the imprint of a gun barrel on the back of my head. How are you the one who’s losing it?”
Javier shook his head. “Don’t you get it? You could have died. I was so close to losing you.”
Bowie sighed. “You look like a hardened criminal but, deep down, you’re a marshmallow,” he said, lifting his hand to run his thumb over Javier’s lower lip. “I’m fine. I swear. I’m right here, alive and well.”
Javier kissed Bowie’s thumb then took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “But you could have died, angel. That bitch had a gun to your head. She practically waltzed into our house and snatched you away from me.”
Bowie shook his head. “Okay, maybe. But I should never have just blindly followed Manuel out of the house. I knew something felt off and, just like last time, I ignored my own instincts. He always gave me the creeps.”
Javier ignored Bowie’s words. “I should have never left you alone.”
Bowie barked out a laugh. “In our own bedroom? You’re being insane right now.”
Javier looked down at Bowie’s smiling face. He was alive. He was alive and safe and seemed not even a little bit psychologically scarred. “I told you once before,mi amor. You make me crazy.”
Bowie smirked. “You sound like Gomez Addams every time you call me,mi amor.”
