He capped the syringe and slid it into his pocket.
“What did you give me?Why?”She clawed at her neck as if she could drag the poison out.Her body rebelled.Head swayed.Knees buckled.The ceiling light flickered as the room blurred.“Enrique!”she cried, stumbling sideways.
He caught her as she collapsed.
Exhaustion and fear weighed down her limbs.Her vision clouded at the edges.She tried to speak, but no words came.Inky darkness spread from the corners of her mind, enshrouding her in a mist.His hard, implacable face hovered above her, winking in and out of focus.
Then the world fell away, the maw of oblivion swallowing her whole.
****
“Sleep, princess.Everythingwill be fine.”Enrique knelt, eased her onto the floor, and kissed her forehead.The soft, feminine aroma of lilacs permeated her skin while the scent of peppermint clung to the gentle puffs of air leaving her mouth.He brushed the fall of her thick, dark hair from her face, the curls sliding across the barrier of his damn gloves like ribbons.
Self-disgust swamped him.If only he didn’t have to take things so far.If only she had listened to reason.Deep down, he’d known all along she would refuse to run away with him.Using the syringe, stealing the choice from her—he couldn’t have escaped that eventuality no matter how hard he tried.
He checked her neck and grimaced at the small red puncture where the needle had struck.The V-neckline of her shirt dipped to the side, revealing the smooth flesh of her shoulder blade and the swell of her breast.Her nipples pressed against the cotton, begging for his touch.His hand trembled in the face of temptation.No, he’d better forget it.Only a pervert fondled an unconscious woman.
He stood and turned toward the bodyguard.Broad, muscled, probably ex-military, and now sprawled on the floor like a broken toy, Yago had never seen or even heard Enrique creeping toward him from the stairwell down the hall.A quick prick to the neck, and the confrontation was over.Easy.Clean.The sedative would wear off in a few hours, giving Enrique enough time to make his escape from Villegas territory before the enforcer raised the alarm.
Enrique stripped Yago of his weapons and phone, stomped on the latter, and duct-taped the man’s wrists together.Then the ankles.After he ripped off a long section of fabric from the guard’s shirt, he stuffed it into Yago’s mouth and slapped on a stretch of tape.He dragged Yago across the floor and stuffed him inside the hall closet.
A few lone hangers hung on the rod.
For the past two days, Enrique had stayed at a bug-infested hotel across town when he wasn’t stalking Lourdes and studying her four guards.On rotating twelve-hour shifts, at least one guard shadowed her wherever she went and bunked in the apartment across the hall to monitor the building’s surveillance feeds when she was at home.She’d already packed up her clothes, knickknacks, and art supplies for transport to the Nogales plaza where her fuckhead fiancé controlled the outbound shipping sector in his corner of the Lozano kingdom.
Had Enrique waited much longer, he would’ve had to contend with the guards at her father’s estate since she was moving back home to stay until the wedding.How he would’ve gotten in and out with Lourdes in tow, he had no idea.
Fuck that.It didn’t take a genius to know he would’ve ended up with a concussion, a black eye or two, a couple of broken bones, and an extended stay at a torture house until his boss arranged his release.
Enrique slammed the closet door shut and braced his forehead against the cool wooden panel.The fear in Lourdes’s eyes when he’d burst in had nearly gutted him.As if he would ever hurt her.Breathing hard, he stared back at the woman he’d never gotten over.
She slept soundly, lost in another world.
Seven years earlier, he had to watch her marry a man who didn’t deserve her.No fucking way was he going to suffer that again.She’d barely survived Jacobo.If she married Diego Zayas, she would be trapped for a second time.Maybe for good.
He strode to the heavy suitcase he’d grabbed earlier and popped the latch.Clothes and shoes.Good enough.He snatched her large, leather fringe purse off the love seat and rifled through it.Wallet.Makeup.Cell phone.A thin manila envelope.He yanked out the packet and emptied the contents onto the coffee table.Her driver’s license, birth certificate, and blood test results lay before him—everything she needed to get married, either to Zayas or Enrique himself.
What luck.He’d expected her father to keep her documents hostage, but there they were right in her damn bag.After stuffing everything back into her purse, except her phone, he powered off the device and hid it in a moving box.Then he stashed her purse in her suitcase and slung the thick luggage strap onto his shoulder.After years of training and carting dead bodies and weapons, the bag weighed almost nothing.He slid his mask back on, gently picked up Lourdes, and cracked open the door to check out into the hallway.Empty.Blowing out a harsh breath, he locked up and left the apartment.
He eyed the shiny camera in the corner.All the cameras in the building and lot were dead, thanks to Domingo’s crash course in remote feed jamming.He hadn’t confided in his hacker friend about why he needed the information, and the other man knew better than to ask.
The corrugated metal stairway groaned under his boots as he took the steps two at a time.His heart raced faster, his patience wearing thin.He’d been in this position before—carrying injured comrades to safety, sneaking in and out of buildings with no one the wiser—but now, everything was different.Lourdes was one mission he couldn’t fail, not if he wanted to save his soul from unending darkness.
He clutched her supple body tighter against his chest and pushed open the creaky exit door for the back parking lot.The early-morning resonance of twittering birds and revving engines wrapped around him like a thin cloak.The dim yellow glow of the lampposts in the lot battled back the darkness.Exhaust fumes from passing vehicles on the street burned his nostrils.The crescent October moon hung low in the grayish-purple sky and peeked out from behind the odd mix of modern high-rises and the shorter, majestic colonial structures in the near distance.
His silver SUV loomed like a predator in the shadows beneath a burned-out lamppost.He buckled Lourdes into the passenger seat as her head lolled to the side.
“Lo siento,”he apologized and smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear.“Even if you hate me for this, know I will make it up to you.”
He threw her suitcase into the back, climbed into the driver’s seat, and cranked the engine.The low, steady rumble vibrated the interior, easing his tension.He merged into the light flow of traffic as the historic center stirred to life with coffee drinkers getting their morning fix, exhaust-choked vehicles weaving between the crush of commuters, and neon lights flashing in art gallery windows.
Every fiber in his being screamed that he’d made a mistake.That he sparked a war he could never undo.Blood would stain his hands.But he’d chosen this.Whatever the price.
Let the world burn.Lourdes would not suffer again.
