Page 204 of Vicious Temptation

Instead of looking upset, Rafe nods as if I’ve just confirmed what he already suspected.

“I fucking knew it. The rumor is true.”

My expression sours. “What rumor?”

He laughs, then winces from the pain. “The massacre here years ago. Casper. Balterra. People disappearing.” Lifting his bloodied face, he meets my gaze. “You and Valentina. You’re one of them.”

I arch an eyebrow. “One of who?” I ask. “Please. Enlighten me.”

“The Six.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth changes everything. Civilians don’t know The Six exists. They’re not supposed to. So how the fuck does he know?

I level my gun on him again. “Where’d you hear that?”

He runs his tongue over his bloodstained teeth, then gives me a humorless smile. “So it is true? Fuck.”

I realize my mistake a second too late. My reaction gave him the answer he was searching for. “Talk.”

“I’m not telling you nothin’. Either way, you’re still gonna kill me.”

“True,” I say with a shrug.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “This is some real-life John Wick shit.”

Despite the situation and the very real possibility that someone out there knows who my family is, what they were, and is running their mouth about it, I can’t help but grin.

Before I can decide how far I’m willing to push him for information, the roar of approaching engines cuts through the night.

Rafe’s expression changes.

“I’ve been running this track for two years, and I ran one in Miami for five before that. I can spot a bullshit bait bid from a mile away.” He coughs, blood spilling down his chin. “Two steps ahead, Remi.”

Headlights appear in the distance, one after another, and the mistake I made becomes painfully clear. My body tenses as I count them. I underestimated him. Rafe knew the bid was a trap, yet he came anyway because he had a plan of his own.

“My only regret,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “is that I never got a taste of that sweet⁠—”

I put a bullet through his face before he can finish. “Taste that.” Pivoting, I sprint toward my car. “Mamá!” I yell. “Ambush!”

Tires screech behind me as a small fleet of cars tears across the bridge. A second later, gunfire erupts, and I brace for bullets that never reach me.

The Hellcat swings sideways across the road, blocking both lanes.

Amalia Montesinos leans out the driver’s-side window, a rifle in her hands and a smile on her face as she unleashes a barrage of automatic fire at the approaching cars.

For a moment, all I can do is stare.

Holy shit.

That’s my mother.

Fifty

thiago

Iflip open the pizza box, tempted to take a slice, but close it again and decide to wait for Remi. Checking my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, there’s still no call or text from her. She said she’d be here thirty minutes ago. Maybe she got held up at the tattoo shop now that it’s back in business, but if that were the case, why wouldn’t she call?

Unease works its way through me.