Tall and wiry, Rascón straightened and stuffed his phone into his jeans pocket.
His highly inappropriate sleeveless red shirt emphasized the reddish-brown, gray, and black ink on his arms.Didn’t he know people were supposed to dress nice for a doctor’s visit?
“Everything good, señora?”
“Not you, too.”Lourdes smiled and rolled her eyes.“Do not call me señora.It makes me feel like someone’s grandmother.”
He smirked.“Yes, ma’am,” he replied in English, a twang deepening his voice.He’d likely picked that up from watching too many old American westerns.As she laughed, he opened the door for her.“Let’s get you home, but you should know El Tajador is not happy with either of us.”As she arched her eyebrow, he elaborated, “You wouldn’t let me escort you into the therapist’s office.”
“Ah, that.”
Since Rascón had intended to wait right outside the office door, she had no choice but to pull rank as cartel princess and demand he stay in the lobby.Even though he seemed like a decent man—or as decent as a cartel enforcer could be—he could’ve accidentally scared or upset any of the abuse victims walking around.Only clients and staff members were allowed in the back for that very reason.
“You didn’t have to tell Enrique.I mean,El Tajador,” she drew out her husband’s alias with a teasing air.
“And end up with a black eye when he later found out?Screw that.”
Laughing again, she shook her head at him and stepped out into the warm sunshine.The breeze kissed her skin like layers of silk and flattened her blouse against her chest.The mouthwatering scent of onions, grilled meat, and spices drifted from the white food cart halfway down the block as mariachi music blared from the rooftop loudspeakers.Only six people waited in line, so she veered toward the stand.
“Not this time.”Rascón gently gripped her elbow.“The boss wants you home right away.He’s already texted me twice for updates.”
“So you’re going to let me starve?”
“Damn right.Come on.”With his head on a swivel, Rascón scanned the bystanders on the busy street as he released her and led the way.
She sighed heavily and kept pace.Since Enrique had to compile an inventory list for the camps and prepare his work schedule, she got stuck with by-the-book Rascón.Who, for the life of her, didn’t look as though he’d ever followed the rules in his life.If only his babysitting gig were a onetime deal.But no.Rascón was now her full-time bodyguard if her overprotective husband couldn’t escort her about.
Enrique had tried to play off his announcement like it was nothing.Like giving her a babysitter was as common as breathing.Just a precaution.Though she expected a shadow at some point, she’d hoped for a little more freedom before that time came.
Poor Rascón.He probably hated the assignment.Yet guarding the wife of El Tajador had to be a step up in enforcement circles.Right?
“What’s your first name?It’s not Rascón, is it?I’ve only ever heard of that as a family name.”
His brow crinkled.“My birth name is terrible.Doesn’t fit me at all.”
“Ooh, intriguing.”
“I’m not telling you.”He huffed and cast his gaze back toward the taco stand as they passed it.
An attractive, curvy woman in a simple polo and khakis smiled at him.Even gave a little wave.
Lourdes grinned.“You sure don’t want food?And maybe that woman’s number?”
“Damn, you’re a handful.”
She snickered.“I’m just in a good mood.”
The sharp screech of tires jerked her around.
A black van zoomed down the street.The side door slid open with a bang.
Gunfire erupted.
Pop-pop-pop-pop.
Rascón hauled her behind him and shoved her head down.“Run!”
Lourdes ducked, immobilized.Fear clogged her throat.Heart slamming, she gripped her bodyguard as he snatched out his gun from under his shirt.
