When Lies Unfold

Chapter 61

Body numb with grief,I trail after Santy and Gordo, exiting Alma’s room and heading down another hallway. We stop where a rough-looking Miguel lies awkwardly sprawled on his side.

The right side of his face is a myriad of colors in the shape of a boot print, his eye already purple and almost swollen shut. He clutches at his ribs.

I lower to my knees beside Miguel, scanning for signs of bullet wounds. One side of his mouth pulls up into a pathetic excuse for a smile. “Think this’ll get me a few days’ worth of your nachos?”

A short laugh escapes me. “Next time, just ask.”

His chuckle is short-lived, his face contorting in pain. His fingers clutch his side even tighter. Before I can ask, his brown eyes meet mine, sweat dotted along his hairline.

“Took a few rounds to my left side before they stomped my face and knocked me out. My vest took the brunt of it, though.”

“Thank God for that,” I mutter. If he hadn’t been wearing his bulletproof vest, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

I carefully dust my fingertips faintly along his cheekbone and near his temple, and he flinches. “Miguel, there’s a good chance you’ll need surgery for that occipital bone.”

His mouth flattens briefly before he mutters, “Figured the asshole did some damage.”

Santy’s tone is biting as he interrogates Miguel. “Need you to tell me what the hell happened here.”

Suspicion lies heavy in Santy’s tone, and I understand why. Shit hit the fan in a big way with his nephew allegedly playing a role in abducting his daughter.

“Andro said he forgot his cell phone here and needed to get it. We found it here, exactly where he thought he’d left it. That’s the only reason we let him through the gates.” Miguel scowls. “They were waitin’ to ambush us. And with you takin’ most of the guys with you?—”

Disgust drips from his voice as Santy finishes, “It was easy fuckin’ work for ’em.”

“Yeah, boss.” Both pain and determination mingle in Miguel’s eyes.

As carefully as possible, I ease his bulletproof vest from him. When I gently probe alongside his left ribs, he grits his teeth.

When I lift his shirt, I’m greeted by a myriad of purple, red, and blue hues adorning his side. “Oh, Miguel,” I murmur softly. I would bet that he’s sustained fractured ribs.

Tense brackets frame Santy’s mouth, his tone flat. “What else.”

“Their main goal was to get Alma. But when they couldn’t find Miss Arias, I heard one of ’em get on the phone and call somebody else to try and track her down at her place.”

“Fuck!” Santy looks ready to explode, his features taut with fury. Gripping the back of his neck, he stares down the near-silent hallway, the muscle in his cheek flickering wildly. Fiery hatred suffuses each of his words. “I will fuckin’ kill Hidalgo and Andro myself.”

“Easy, boss,” Gordo warns. “We gotta go into this with our heads on straight?—”

“He has my daughter!” Anguish and fear mingle in his thundering voice. His hands fist at his sides. “I will not lose her.”

The men fall silent as something else catches my attention. My gaze narrows on Miguel. “Miguel.” I say his name calmly. “Are you hiding something from me?”

At my question, the other men snap to attention, making Miguel’s cheeks deepen with color. “No. Just…rather get Doc to help me out.”

I soften my tone. “Miguel…” I wait for him to begrudgingly meet my gaze. “We need to get that bullet out of your ass.”