Chapter 12
Daleyza
The confusion she’d felt in that moment, at his actions and words, was as palpable as it had been in those moments before taking their vows.
Had she trusted his words or his smile? She fell in love with him at the altar, a man she’d never seen before.
The first man to show her kindness. Somehow, she knew doing so would bring her heartache, but she couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried.
The Lord had given her this man, a man she didn’t ask for, and had made him everything she could have ever wanted, only to take him away from her in the cruelest way possible.
Now… suddenly… he was back.
Why? Why had he pretended to be dead all these years? And why was he suddenly roaring back into her life? What could possibly be so threatening that he’d break the secret of his existence?
A lightning bolt struck. Daleyza was a bright woman. She’d always been able to think three steps ahead and down several different paths of options when presented with a problem. There could only be one reason.
Hector Colonel wanted his favorite son back. She also knew that if there was one thing guaranteed to light a fire under Ildefanso, it was protecting his blood. Since the son was no longer an angle to exploit, that left only one target. Livia Martínez.
Madre de Dios! The fact that they were still married flooded her brain, along with all its implications. Why would the government lie to her? What did they gain from it?
“We have to go.” His expression had turned rock solid again. No trace of the emotion when he’d attempted to touch her minutes ago. He could have been a stranger, as cold as he now appeared. “Your bag is ready?”
“Yes.”
She pulled it out of the closet, and before she could hoist it onto her back, he secured it on his own.
“We’re going to have to move fast. Can you manage?”
“Of course I can. I would have had to anyway if I’d left on my own.”
He didn’t react to her verbal slap. “Treat their orders like you would mine.” She could see him rethink that command. “Scratch that. Better than you would mine. No questions, no arguments, and no commentary.”
She bristled at the picture he was painting of her, like she didn’t understand how much trouble they were in and that now was not the time to fuck around.
Then again, she hadn’t really shown him anything so far to suggest she could get with the program.
It’s how she’d always been with him, so why would he expect otherwise?
It may have been almost a decade since they’d occupied the same space, but some things between them would never change. “Not a problem.”
With a single nod, he reached for her jean jacket and buttoned it. His voice turned soft again. “It’s cool outside this morning because of the rain. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” Struck dumb, she let him continue until all were securely fastened.
When he finished, he stared at his hands, frozen at the top button.
Abruptly, he turned and headed for the door, murmuring into his comm.
She watched him closely. Every movement was efficient and silent. If she hadn’t been looking at him, she wouldn’t have even known he was there. When they approached the door, it opened from the outside by a man dressed all in black, wearing gloves and a balaclava.
Her husband threw the delivery hat and glasses on the kitchen counter, pulled a balaclava from his back pocket, slipped it over his head, and slid through the open door, one hand firmly gripping her bicep.
When Daleyza passed through the door, she saw the second man, an absolute giant, standing around the corner of the detached garage in the alleyway, scanning their surroundings.
The man who had opened the door took her other arm and followed Ildefanso.
Swiftly and silently, they moved through the yard.
A flash of movement to their right caught Daleyza’s eye.
Between the worn fence slats, she saw a darkness that shouldn’t be there, as if someone hunkered down, looking through an open space into their yard.
Something must have tripped her escorts’ awareness as well because both dropped their hands as they moved into a slightly different formation designed to fully block her body.
A hushed whooshing sound was followed quickly by the soft thump of weight hitting the ground, and the space between the slats now showed a thin line of grass in the neighboring yard.
“Belleza, be prepared to run,” Ildefanso whispered, his voice barely heard over the soft patter of the rain that had restarted.
She said nothing. She didn’t need to. His back might be to her, but somehow, he knew she heard his instruction.
The two men formed a shield in front of them. “Go,” the escort ordered. He didn’t need to shout. He didn’t need to push. She just knew it was urgent.
Ildefanso’s hand gripped hers as they pushed off the balls of their feet, running toward the garage. A barrage of bullets from the opposite direction hit the side of the building, ripping up the siding, and the giant covering them returned fire.
A black SUV came tearing down the alleyway, stopping on a dime in front of them.
The rear passenger door opened, revealing another man, all in black, who helped her into the vehicle.
Her ass had barely cleared the door when a tinging sounded behind her, and then she felt a burn across the back of her leg.
Jesucristo, that hurt!
The door hadn’t even closed, and the SUV was speeding down the alley toward the side street.
With a deafening boom and a cacophony of tinkling glass, the back window blew inward, sending her and the man in the back seat ducking to the floorboard.
Within seconds, he popped back up, lowered the side window, and leaned out to shoot repeatedly behind them.
On her other side, Ildefanso was hanging off the side of the vehicle, his body forming a flimsy barrier between her and the outside. She heard him grunt as he got slammed between the frame and the door as they careened around the corner.
The giant, now in the front seat, yelled, “Where the fuck did you learn to drive, Medusa?”
The driver ripped the hat off her head, and pink-colored hair tumbled down around her shoulders. “You’re such a baby about how I drive. You’re out of there, aren’t you?”
Perhaps the weirdest part of this scenario was the dog sitting in the open trunk area, tongue lolling, head tilted as it looked at her.
Subconsciously, she registered that the last man in the group clung to the back of the truck, desperate to stay attached and trying to fire at the same time. But the woman driving had no concern for the two men gripping the roof bars, and their accuracy was mediocre at best.
Without thinking, she reached around Ildefanso’s back, where she knew he always kept a weapon, and pulled the pistol free from a holster.
Her finger jammed down on the sunroof button.
Before anyone knew what was happening, she was standing on the back seat, facing backward out through the ceiling, pulling back the slide, chambering the rounds, and shooting at the vehicle that was following them at breakneck speed.
Three shots later, the windshield shattered and both front tires were flat. It careened into a tree and exploded on impact.