Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Take Natalia with you,” I said. “Costa shouldn’t go back until things have settled, but I’m counting on you to leave here and take her home. To bury her where she belongs—with her mother.”
A hint of despair softened his features. “You have my word.”
That was it, then. There was nothing left to stay, and time was up. The longer the final ship remained in port, the more everyone on it would be at risk. They were counting on me to be strong.
A deep ache pounded in my stomach, but I ignored it and turned to walk back up the aisle to Natalia. I had to pause at the top of the steps to force breath in and out of my lungs.
There was no other way, though.
Only my wife would be so beautiful in death. I could almost convince myself that her pallor had lifted. That her cheeks had pinked. As I slid my arms underneath her body and lifted her, I felt warmth, not death—self-preservation allowing me to look upon her for the last time as I had always known her.
Beautiful, vivacious, as stubborn in death as she’d been in life.
Butterfly in the sky, monarch in my arms as we’d danced the night of the costume party. She’d buzzed against my body with fear, trepidation, and excitement as our wits had sparred and our feet had tangoed.
Mermaid in the water, showing me how the curves of a woman could soften my hard, sharpened edges.
Owner of my cold, black heart.
I pressed a final kiss against her lips.
“Mi amor. Mi vida.”
My love. My wife.
My need for her was so willful, so gripping, that I felt her soft breath caress my lips. I drank in her sweet sigh into my mouth. My descent into madness had begun, and its timing was perfect. I forced my mouth away from hers and my feet down the stairs.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever do. Even lighting dynamite under my own feet would be easier, I knew.
I handed Natalia’s body over to Barto.
Reaching into the holster at my side, I removed the White Monarch I’d brought for her, opened her hand, and curled her fingers around the grip. My tired eyes hallucinated her thumb twitch against the pearl. “Bury her with it. For protection.”
Barto nodded once, a promise to see my command through, and took her away.
“Suerte. Be prosperous, be good,” I told Max. “Don’t return to México ever again.”
“I hope you’ll change your mind,” he said as we shook hands. “If you do, I’ll be waiting for you.”
I wouldn’t. I wasn’t leaving any chance Belmonte-Ruiz would get to walk away from what they’d done, and what they’d stolen from me.
I took comfort in the fact that eradicating them would save even one life. Every life held value.
But Natalia’s life had been worth everything. And in the end, it was worth my own.
29
Cristiano
In the moments before dawn broke, I blew out the candles in the chapel, not that it mattered if it burned down. Belmonte-Ruiz would be here any moment, and once they were inside the gates, I’d lay waste to all of this.
The Badlands had been home, but without its people, it was a shell. I made my way toward the house through the empty streets. The quiet brought a sense of peace I could only recognize knowing my pain would end soon, and with purpose. I wound up the mountain path for the final time, across the driveway, and started up the steps to the front door.
At a sound from inside the house, I froze mid-stride.
Hurried footsteps beat against the entryway tile.
Everyone was supposed to be gone.
It could only be one of my men, but I took out my gun anyway and leveled it at the front door as it flew open.
Gabriel Valverde threw both of his hands up. “Ay. It’s just me.”
I holstered the gun. “What the fuck are you still doing here?” I asked, wiping my dusty hands on my pants. “I ordered everyone out of the Badlands. The last boat is leaving if it’s not already gone.”
“I couldn’t leave. Not until I knew everything I could find out about this,” he said, opening his hand to show me . . .
“A syringe?” I asked with a frown.
“Escalera al Cielo.”
“Stairway to Heaven? That’s a Zeppelin song. You’ve gone mad,” I said, nearly laughing. “Both of us. You’re going to die here if—”
“Max picked it up in the warehouse by Natalia’s body,” he rushed out. “He said you didn’t know how she died, so I’ve been researching all night.” As if that fact had only just occurred to him, he blinked hard, removed his glasses with his free hand, and rubbed his red eyes with the back of his fist. “This is why Belmonte-Ruiz wanted your help.” He replaced his glasses and pinched the barrel between his fingers. “To take this drug to the international market—”