16. Derek
CHAPTER 16
“I’m not picking.”
Em fisted the sheets and pulled them up to her chin. Cruz chuckled from her other side as he rested on his elbow.
“You have to.”
“No, it’s stupid.” She glared at me. “You shouldn’t have even asked.”
“Come on. It shouldn’t be that hard,” I teased.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “You can’t make me choose.”
I nodded. “Gun loaded and aimed. You have three seconds.”
“Three,” Cruz started counting down. “Two…”
“Ah, fuck!” She covered her face. “Javi!”
“Ha!” I pointed at Cruz. “I knew it.”
“Marco’s going to be so pissed.”
Cruz was already rolling over to get up to rub it in his face.
“No!” Her arm snapped out and caught him. “Don’t you dare! You guys swore nothing leaves this room.”
The door swung open with a beaming Javi and a very annoyed Marco stepping in.
“What do I do wrong?” Marco crossed his arms.
“Nothing!” She sat up, bringing the sheet with her to cover her bare chest as if modesty still existed in this apartment.
We’d spent the last few days in various levels of undress. Sleeping, eating, watching movies, and fucking.
It was glorious.
Giving Dias time alone meant him digging himself further into messes and giving us a much-needed break.
“Then why did you pick Javi?” Marco demanded.
“Cause I’m better.” Javi winked.
She rolled her eyes. “No, he just puts in a bit more sweet cream.”
“That’s it? Why haven’t you told me you prefer more?”
She shrugged. “’Cause you were doing something nice for me. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”
Marco turned to Javi. “Did you ask? How did you know?”
“Look at her.” Javi waved his hand toward her. “She’s not the black coffee type.”
Em straightened. “Excuse me. I resent that.”
“But it’s true.” Cruz laughed. “When you and I make ours in the morning, you pour like a cup of sweet cream in, and if no one else is around, you add in caramel syrup like you’re smuggling drugs.”
Her eyes widened. “Cruz!”
“I was wondering who added that to the grocery list.” Marco cracked a smile.
“She also admitted she preferred the brownie to the cheesecake we got the other night,” I spilled.
Javi mock gasped with his hand over his heart. “I let you have the last bite because I thought you loved it.”
She turned her glare on me. “Never telling you anything again.”
“Technically, nothing you said left the room. They just came in,” Cruz said, jumping to my aid.
“Next, she’s going to tell us she actually loves the boat and wants to live on an island for the rest of her life,” Marco teased.
She closed her eyes. “No. Never again.”
“Since we’re on an honesty kick, did you even like that thing I did the other night with my tongue or––” Cruz yelped as she kicked him off the bed and he fell to the floor.
“No sex for you.” She pointed down at him.
“No.” He pouted with his chin on the edge of the mattress. “Take it back.”
She flung the sheet back, revealing all of herself to us, and crawled past him. Marco helped her off, and she tugged his hand, pulling him behind her. “Come on, Javi.”
I huffed. “What about me?”
“You’re grounded too,” she called back with a laugh.
The other bedroom door shut, and I glared down at Cruz. “Thanks a lot, shithead.”
He smirked. “We’ll make dinner. She can’t stay mad at us when she’s full of tacos and margaritas.”
“I don’t wanna,” she whined while adding mascara to her already dark lashes.
I swiped a razor over my rough stubble at the sink next to her. The way her backless dress fell forward when she leaned toward the mirror, revealing a delicious amount of side boob, was driving me crazy. Did we have enough time for me to rip it off her and do all the things I was dreaming of?
I nicked my chin and grimaced. Fuck. I needed to focus.
“Then you should have said no.” Marco leaned against the bathroom’s doorframe.
She pointed the wand at him. “As if I could.”
He snickered. “You’re the boss.”
“I wish,” she mumbled as she widened her eyes and added another coat, a word I hadn’t known had so many meanings until she gave me a step-by-step explanation of her makeup routine. I was learning so much about things I didn’t want to know.
“If you ever really don’t want to do anything––”
“We’ll be here forever,” she interrupted. “I have to do hard things.”
“Like attending private concerts.” Cruz dropped his chin on Marco’s shoulder with an exaggerated pout.
“It’s a guitar player. Not exactly in my top ten playlists.”
I stood back and checked my reflection, making sure I hadn’t missed a spot.“Well, if you don’t hurry, we might miss it entirely.”
She groaned and put her makeup bag in a drawer. “I was waiting on you.”
“Have fun.” Marco shrugged off Cruz and kissed her quickly.
“I won’t.” She smiled up at him, then pushed him aside.
Cruz stole a kiss as I ushered her through the room to the front door. If I didn’t keep her moving, we’d never leave, which I suspected was her goal.
“We’ll be outside if you need backup.” Javi took her shoulders and planted a kiss on her lips before stepping back.
“He promised a quiet, peaceful, uneventful night,” she mumbled with a huff.
“And he’s so good at keeping his promises.” I slipped my hand into hers and tugged. “Come on.”
“Goodbye. Farewell. Remember me.” She waved dramatically to the guys as if I were leading her to the gallows.
I ignored their laughter and shut the front door behind us. They would follow in a few minutes to keep up the pretense of me being her only bodyguard.
“What’s that?” she asked as we headed toward the dock.
“It’s our new boat.” I helped her step down into the fully covered seating area.
“No more wind?” Her awe grew as the captain started the short crossing. She touched her hair. “I could cry.”
“Hey, no more crying! That’s the point.”
It took a lot of complaining to get Rod to allow us the upgrade. Mostly me sending him videos of her bitching every single time we got on the old boat. It wore him down, and he sent me a little bonus in exchange for never sending him another. Maybe I’d get her a shirt that said, “I survived living on Fisher Island” when this was over.
Dias was waiting for her just inside the lobby with three men behind him. Ama spotted Em first and hurried over.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She air-kissed both cheeks before leaning in and whispering, “Pedro’s here, and he’s acting so strange. I need your help figuring out what’s wrong.”
Em’s brown eyes flickered to the man in question, and she gave her a small smile. “On it.”
“Mi amor.” Dias slid his arm along Em’s bare back and pulled her hips toward him. “I’ve missed you.”
He nuzzled her neck before kissing her behind her ear. Every second of training in my life was for moments like this—exercising self-control not to snap and either shoot him or rip his arm off for touching her.
“Let’s get inside.” He led the group up the grand stairs and passed the VIP sign in front of another set of narrow stairs where an attendant nodded at him and let us pass.
He ushered Pedro and Ama into the door leading to the box suite, then glanced at me. “Security will stay in the hall.”
Em blinked up at him. “Yours can.” She turned and crooked her finger at me. “Mine will stay at my side.”
She headed inside, and I ignored his annoyed glare as I followed. She was my boss, not him, and I’d love to witness their argument if he tried to push the issue.
The theater was even smaller than I expected from the pictures and layout online. It had a short orchestra section and a lower balcony level, with private boxes along the sides with eight seats in each. Dias hadn’t mentioned anyone else attending with them.
He came in, shutting the door behind him, and took the last seat in the first row next to Em. Ama was next to her, sharing worried looks before frowning at Pedro. I hadn’t spent much time caring about the man. He seemed fine and came back clear when we checked him out. He was a family friend, though, and not directly involved with the business. Close enough that he was on our list but not being monitored or tracked. If something was going on with him, we didn’t know about it.
Then again, they could be having relationship issues that had nothing to do with illegal dealings. What a novel concept.
I stifled a chuckle.
The lights dimmed, and a spotlight lit the stage as a middle-aged man with a long graying beard took the stool and began playing without any preamble.
He was very talented, but the performance didn’t hold Em’s attention. Her eyes darted around the theater without moving her head. Dias was captivated, oblivious to her boredom. Ama spent more time watching Pedro than the stage, and he seemed to be purposely not looking at her.
Awkward tension was building, but I seemed to be the only one aware.
Four, maybe five, songs in, and I was struggling to stay focused. No matter how incredible it was to witness someone effortlessly play a twelve-string guitar, the excitement wore off quickly.
My mind wandered, a danger in my field, so I shifted positions, leaning slightly against the back wall, and checked out the other suites. Nothing new. No changes.
Great.
Three more songs, and I began counting seats I could see of the orchestra level just to keep my mind busy.
A movement.
Something out of the norm.
My eye caught it, but my brain took more than a few seconds to process.
A red dot danced around our suite, jolting from one spot to the next.
I narrowed my eyes across the theater. Was a bored child playing with a laser?
Then it clicked.
Fuck!
“Get down!” I yelled as I reached out, pulled Em’s chair back, and yanked her to the ground.
“What?” Ama screamed, looking around.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dias demanded.
I pointed at his sister’s stomach. “Get down!”
Pedro caught on before Dias and pulled Ama to the ground behind the balcony ledge just as a shot was fired.
Plaster sprayed behind us, and Ama screamed again.
The music stopped.
Screams erupted as another shot rang out.
“Anyone hit?” I checked them out but didn’t see blood.
“No,” Pedro called back.
“We need to move!”I yelled.
The door burst open as Dias’s men filled the small space, guns out.
“Where did it come from?” one of them demanded.
I was the only one with an answer. “Not the suites. I was watching those. Had to be above. There’s no way they could have gotten that angle from below.”
“Go!” another guard called. “I’ll cover.”
I didn’t trust him but had no choice. My priority was Em’s safety. With her wrapped under my arm, half my body covering hers, I went to the door and checked that the hall was empty before stepping out. “Go to the wall.”
I turned and waved for Ama and Pedro to follow. Dias was still crouched but yelling at his men. Fuck him. He could find his own way out.
The other boxes’ doors flew open as people streamed out.
I locked eyes with Em, and she nodded, taking the lead. She hurried to join the group and reached back, offering her hand to Ama. They linked together, Ama holding onto Pedro with her other hand while I covered them.
The VIP stairs were crammed, and we were left unmoving, waiting for the balcony level to empty before we could.
My eyes scanned the crowd, watching faces as if the gunman would stand out. He wouldn’t. He was likely long gone, taking an unmarked or private exit from the other side of the theater.
But he might not be.
He might be coming to finish his job.
Who’d been his target? The laser hadn’t stayed on one person for long; either they were untrained or hadn’t had a specific target within the box. Ama and Pedro didn’t seem the likely choices. Dias had more than enough people wanting to go after him or his girlfriend.
Fuck.
They’d been too public. His enemies were now hers.
Anyone who wanted to hurt him would simply go for her.
We were too open here. I wanted to get us somewhere secure as quickly as possible, but according to the floor plans I memorized, this was the only exit.
I’d been in far worse situations, but not while protecting so many innocent people. No one but Dias deserved a bullet here.
“Derek!” Em called out as the group began to move forward. My hand went to my hip under my suit coat, ready to draw my gun.
“Go,” I yelled back, hoping it urged everyone to get moving.
Dias was still in the box, doing God knew what with his pathetic excuse for security.
As one mass, we moved out of the VIP area and down the main stairs to an emptying lobby with more space.
Police stood at every exit, waving guests out.
My phone vibrated, and I prayed it was the guys letting us know they were outside. I didn’t have time to check, but I made sure the four of us stayed together as we stepped onto the sidewalk.
Em looked side to side, then pointed and ran toward a waiting sedan.
“Who is that?” Ama asked as I found Marco standing next to the open back door.
“My security,” Em explained as she waved for Ama and Pedro to get in. She slid in after them, and Marco closed the door while I got in the passenger seat.
“Where’s my brother?” Ama cried as Marco pulled away from the curb.
“He never left the box,” I explained from the front seat while checking my phone.
Derek: Where’s Dias?
Javi: With his team, searching the boxes.
“It’s too dangerous! We need to wait for him,” she protested.
I twisted to face her. “He’s with his men. They’re checking the upper floors.”
Pedro gripped her hand. “He’ll be fine. He would want you and Millie out of there.”
She gazed at him with wide eyes and nodded. “Are we going to the house?”
Marco tightened his grip on the wheel. Neither of us wanted to, but it was the only choice. We couldn’t take Pedro and Ama with us to the apartment.
“Yes, we’ll do a sweep when we get there though.”
“I’ll call and get our guards on it,” Ama said before putting her phone to her ear. “It’s me. Is everything okay there?” She paused. “Do another check, inside and out. I want everyone available at their stations. High alert.”
Marco and I shared a look. She was able to give orders like that? She knew what to do? That didn’t seem like something an oblivious sister would calmly execute.
Had we underestimated her?
And why was Pedro so calm and quiet?
This night was revealing more than we’d expected.