“Then it’s nearly over,” he said. “At least, a large part of it is. We’ll still have to go after the cartel, of course.”
“But why?” Mia asked. “If my father is in prison, they have no reason to send anymore foot soldiers here.”
“They have one reason,” Max said. “You. Even if your father is in prison, they’ll try to kill you to send a message to everyone else they work with that those are the consequences they’ll face if they double cross them like your father did. They don’t just want your father dead, Mia, they want you dead, too.”
She heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I just wish you didn’t have to risk your life for me.”
“I’ll do it gladly,” Max said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
She kissed him again and Max sighed against her lips.
“I’d better go back inside,” Mia said. “Or my father will start to wonder where I am.”
Max nodded.
As Mia stepped away from their hidden corner, a soft, resigned sigh escaped her lips. She cast a final glance at Max and smiled sweetly before turning to walk back to the concert hall. His heart clenched as she moved further away, the echo of their conversation still hanging in the air between them.
Suddenly, a menacing figure emerged from the shadows, his body illuminated by the dull glow of a nearby streetlamp. Before Max could react, the man lunged forward, his hand grippingMia’s arm in a vice-like hold.
“Mia!” Max roared, his voice filled with raw desperation.
His heart seized at the sight of Mia struggling against the stranger who dragged her toward a car that was idling by the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps.
“No!” he bellowed.
He could not let them take her. He charged after them, every fiber of his being screaming in protest and fear. Just as he was about to reach them, the sharp crack of a gunshot rang out in the otherwise quiet night, freezing him in his tracks.
Pain blossomed in his chest, spreading like wildfire through his veins. His body went rigid as the force of the shot flung him backwards. The cold, hard concrete steps bit into his back as he slammed onto them, sending jarring pain up his spine and into his skull.
“Max!” Mia’s terrified scream pierced through the fog of his rapidly dwindling consciousness. It was a heartbreaking symphony of fear and desperation that echoed in Max’s ears even as darkness started to cloud his vision.
Then, like the final notes of a chilling lullaby, everything faded to black.
Chapter Fourteen
Mia
When Mia awoke, her body felt as heavy as lead, and her head spun as if she’d been on a carnival ride. She was tied to a rickety chair in the center of a grungy warehouse. The acrid smell of oil and dust assaulted her senses, and she wrinkled her nose against the stench. The scurry of cockroaches at her bare feet sent a chill up her spine. They seemed to be the only living creatures in this derelict place.
Her throat was parched and raw—she was so thirsty, so thirsty her lips were dry and starting to crack. The air was stifling hot, sweat beading on her forehead and trickled down her neck. The musty smell of decay lingered in the air, an offensive odor that turned her stomach. She was not in Texas anymore. A sinking feeling of despair clenched her heart as she realized she was probably in Mexico, deep within the heart of cartel territory.
Then, the terrifying memory resurfaced. Max being shot. His agonized grimace seared into her mind, sending a wave of nausea through her. Her chest tightened as she swallowed back the bile rising in her throat. The reality of her situation sent a piercing spike of fear through her, but she had to remain strong. For herself, and for Max. She had to believe that he was okay.
Her fingers tingled, numbed by the tight ropes binding her wrists to the chair. The rough fiber bit into her skin, drawing blood that dripped onto the dusty concrete floor. The tangy scent of her own blood filled the air, and her leopard’s instinct to fight and survive seethed beneath her skin.
She was just about to surrender to the primal urge, ready toshift into her leopard form in hopes the transformation would break the restraints, when the creak of the rusty door made her freeze. The figure who strode into the dimly lit room was none other than Carlos, the leader of the cartel. His dark eyes bore into hers, the smirk on his face a chilling reminder of her impending doom. Would his menacing face be the last thing she saw before she died? Mia swallowed hard, a growl rumbling deep within her chest. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Oh, you’re awake. Good,” Carlos remarked, a note of smug satisfaction evident in his voice.
Mia’s eyes narrowed, her leopard growling softly within her, urging her to attack.
“Why am I here?” she snapped, glaring at him defiantly.
The air felt stifling, making it hard for Mia to breathe. The lingering aroma of grease and sweat was thick around her, and every little sound seemed to echo in the vast emptiness of the warehouse.
Carlos chuckled, the sound grating on Mia’s nerves. “What, no warm greeting? We’re old friends, after all.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “I’ve met you briefly, what? Two times?”
