39. Elias
39
Elias
" E li—"
The air wheezed from my lungs as a blinding pain spider-webbed across my chest.
I rolled off the lounge chair, my hand holding my chest as the assailant hit my spine with a dull thud. I dropped, my chest connecting with the abrasive cement, my head hitting the ground as I coughed, my lungs deflated.
"You should have complied, motherfucker."
The man rounded the chair as another walked up behind him.
I rolled to my back, my cock slapping against my thigh, and kicked at his knee.
The joint snapped in half with a sickening crack, adrenaline shooting through my veins like a hot dose of heroin.
He fell to the ground as I pulled myself up, his screams echoing around the veranda.
I kicked again in an upward arc, the top of my bare foot smashing into his nose as the second man raised his pistol.
Blood splattered across my foot as I tucked and rolled for my pistol, the man I kicked flipping onto his back—out cold.
A shot rang out, and a searing burn blazed over my thigh, my hand seizing the pistol holstered in my pants.
I pulled the trigger as he leveled his against me, dropping him to the ground, his knee blown out. I shot again, blood spray coating the ground in a fine mist, his other knee gone.
His gun skidded across the cement, dropping into the pool as he collapsed on all fours. His wailing grunts brought no greater joy.
What the hell just happened?
How did they get in?
Where' s Grace?
I spun in a circle.
Dark hair, bare skin, green eyes…
Nothing.
The man's screams morphed into tight clenched teeth moans he hissed, saliva spewing as he exhaled.
I grabbed him by his black shirt and shook him. "Andrés really is a coward, isn't he?"
He groaned as I tossed him onto his back, my chest and back aching like I'd been hit by a truck. I kneeled and pressed the butt of my gun to his forehead, my fist clenched in his shirt against his throat.
"Where is he now?" I shook him, and he bared his gold-rimmed teeth through tight lips.
He reached up, his hands wrapping around the pistol in a flash.
Bang .
Blood and brain matter splattered across the patio.
I fell back onto my naked ass, my gun smoking beside me.
His empty eyes stared up into the morning sky.
"Are you okay?"
I jumped, my reflex moving the pistol towards the voice.
Javier stood with his gun at his side, his other hand up in surrender.
"Jesus." I dropped my weapon and stood with a grunt.
Javier nudged the other assailant with his foot, then bent down and pressed his fingers to the man's neck. "Dead."
"I must have broken his neck when I kicked him." A scarlet river crept across the cement as I put my gun down and shoved my feet through my pant legs, securing the waist with my button and belt, then holstered the gun. "Are we secure?"
He nodded.
"Mamá?"
"She's fine, still sound asleep."
"They didn't attack her?"
He shook his head.
"Casualties?"
"Alphonse is injured. Felipe is dead."
"Grace? Where is she? "
I tossed my shirt over my head, my muscles screaming in my chest and back as I rushed inside.
"She's gone."
"Gone?" I paused in the hall and exhaled, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. "Willingly?"
My stomach revolted, my teeth clenched, my jaw popping.
She wouldn't.
To save them…
"I don't think so."
I turned and narrowed my gaze as he shook his head.
"There's blood here." He pointed to the waxed marble we'd walked over.
Crimson droplets led toward the front entryway, and a secondary smear was on the wall and floor. Small tendril-like wisps trailed out of the puddled blood as though her hair swept through it.
"I think she was the main target."
I gave a derisive snort.
And that was his mistake.
"Call the remaining men and meet me in the office." I squeezed my fist tight against my leg and winced as it brushed against a tender wound. "If it's a war he wants, we'll bring it."
I turned and limped down the hall.
Javier brushed past me. "Dr. Navarro is on the way. You should have your leg looked at."
I glanced down.
Deep red coated my foot, leaving stamped imprints behind me. "I'll be fine."
My muscles quivered, the residual aches and pains riding the coattails of fading adrenaline, lending credence to the life-or-death struggle that had unfolded.
I stopped at Mamá's door and cracked it.
Alba, Mariana, and Valeria formed a protective huddle around her bed, resembling human shields with trembling forms illuminated by the faint glow from the hallway.
"It's over." I pressed my finger to my lips. "Stay here."
All three nodded in unison as I closed the door. I leaned against it, pressing my knuckles into my eyes. Pain bit back along my pectorals and back, her cries echoing my name.
She tried to warn me.
How was I going to find her now ?
Shoving off the door, I dipped into the office where my men gathered and braced my hands against my hips.
"War has met us at our doorstep." I raised my bloodied fist. "We won't remain silent. Our footsteps will echo around the world until Andrés is dead by my hands."
They nodded in unison, a congregation of the injured and those in good spirits, their collective agreement etched on each determined face.
"Knock on every door, turn over every stone. Anyone associated with Andrés or his men are to be questioned and made an example out of." I moved around my desk. "I want the darkness to whisper my name. I want him to know I'm coming." I slammed my fist on the table. "I am Elias-fucking-Hernández, and no one messes with my family."
The men rose to their feet, cheering as though I had called for a standing ovation.
I turned to Javier. "To hell with Sofia Torres and anything else I've asked of you." I pressed my finger into his chest. "This is priority number one. Round up the sicarios and start dragging people out of their homes. I want Grace found, and I need it done yesterday."
His brows scrunched together. "Don't you mean Andrés?"
I brushed past him and left the office. "You heard me."
She's mine.
And no one takes what belongs to me.