Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"Don't you trust me?"
"Put them on the phone, or you can go fuck yourself, Guerrero," I mutter, my patience wearing thin.
"Watch your tone," he snaps right back at me.
"Then put my goddamn daughter or Mila on the phone," I growl. "If I don't hear from them, I'll kill your girl. Do not test me."
Selena whimpers in the backseat, making me feel like a dick, but I'm fucking sick of this son of a bitch. For weeks, he's been making my life hell. I'm not in the mood for his little jokes and laughter.
"Watch it," Brady cautions from beside me.
I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper.
Guerrero is silent for a brief moment, and then a shuffling comes down the line.
"Daddy?"
The fear in Tahani's voice hits me like a kick to the gut. Her voice is little more than a whisper, and that fucks me up. Tahani doesn't whisper. She isn't soft-spoken or quiet like Mila. She's loud and spontaneous and always laughing. My kid is scared because some motherfucker crawled out of the gutter and went after her because of me. He knew how to get to her because of me.
I never wanted her in the middle of this. For years, I've tried to protect her from this shit, to keep her out of the crosshairs, and I failed.
"Hey, kiddo. Are you and Mila okay?" I ask her, my throat raw and my heart bleeding.
"Yes," she whispers.
"I'm so sorry, Tahani. I swear, I'm coming for you and Mila. Just hang on for me, okay?" There are a thousand things I want to say to her, but I can't. Not here. Not yet.
"Okay. I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, kid."
"Roman," Mila says a moment later.
"Are you okay, baby?" I ask, gripping the phone more tightly as her calm voice washes over me. She's so goddamn strong, so fucking brave. I don't deserve her, but I'll kill to keep her. When this is over, no one will ever touch her again.
"I'm fine. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I lie, swallowing hard. "I'm good, baby. I'll be there soon, and all of this will be over, okay?"
"Okay. I love you."
"God, I love you too."
"See?" Guerrero asks a heartbeat later. "I haven't harmed a hair on their pretty little heads, Gregory. Now let me speak to Selena."
I want to tell him to go fuck himself again, but I can't. He let me talk to my girls. I have to let him talk to his.
"He wants to talk to you," I mutter, holding the phone out to Selena.
For a moment, I think she's going to refuse. She looks at me, then at the phone in my hand, and then back to me. Before I can tell her to take the damn thing, she sighs softly and reaches for it.
"Jose," she says and then frowns. "Estoy bien." Fear skitters across her face before she quickly schools her expression. "¡Lo siento! No le dije nada a él." Her voice shakes, and then she whispers, "No, he dicho nada, ¡lo juro!"
Brady catches my gaze and lifts a brow as if to ask what the fuck.
Selena listens to whatever Guerrero has to say, her eyes falling closed. "¡Lo siento!" she mumbles into the phone and then holds it out to me again, her hands visibly shaking this time.
"You have an hour to get to this beach," Guerrero says to me, his voice noticeably strained.
The line disconnects.
Selena slumps back in the seat, those cracks in her armor now canyons. Whatever Guerrero is to her…whatever she's doing with him…I can't fucking hand her over. Not after hearing her side of that conversation.
"Fuck," I mutter, slamming my head back against the seat.
"What didn't you tell us?" Brady asks her, his voice hard and unyielding. He speaks Spanish fluently, too.
She doesn't say anything.
"We can't help you if you don't talk to us, Selena," he says.
"No one can help me," she mumbles sadly.
"Try us."
She's silent for so long that I don't think she's going to respond, but then she sighs. "You won't have to kill me to get your family back, Agent Gregory," she says, turning to stare out the window. "Jose won't let anything happen to this baby, I promise you that."
"You sure about that?" Brady asks point-blank. "He left you alone in that big house. Doesn't seem like he cares too fucking much about keeping you safe."
"I'm positive," she says with a bitter laugh.
"He wants kids or something?" he asks her.
She shrugs a shoulder. "I doubt that. His boss does, however."
His boss? What the fuck?
"What the fuck?" Brady asks.
Selena places her hand over her stomach again as if she's trying to protect her baby. Her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror again. The fear in them is unmistakable. It's potent and raw, sending a chill through me.
"The kid isn't his," I mutter.