brushing my hand away. “I know that expression. You always act like you don't care, but when Joseph’s not here your mind wanders.”
“Does it look like it’s wandering now?” I take her delicate jaw between my fingers and position her mouth perfectly for me to claim it, all over again.
“You’re blood brothers,” she whispers. “It’s okay to want him to be okay.”
“He’d be fucking fantastic if it wasn’t for your fucked-up friend.”
It’s not fair and it’s not true, and I deserve the anger that flares up in her sapphire-blue eyes.
I drop her jaw and step back, breaking her embrace.
“He loves her,” she says quietly.
“He doesn’t know how to love,” I say irritably.
“Funny.” She cocks her head to the side and gives me that look. “That’s the same thing you used to say to me.”
I grit my teeth and reach the other side of the pool in two savage strokes. My wife appeals to a heart I never knew I had before I stole hers and made it bleed for me.
Draping a towel around my shoulders, I down the rest of my bourbon, pick up my cell and head indoors. I’ve barely crossed the threshold when it starts ringing. I glance at the number and frown.
Speak of the other devil.
“Grayson,” I snap out. “Tell me you have them.”
There’s silence, and then I hear some woman screaming out in terror. “I can't wake him, Vi. I can’t fucking wake him.”
The bourbon starts burning up the back of my throat. Instinct is telling me all kinds of shit I don’t want to hear. My gaze swings back to Eve. She’s busy climbing out of the pool to follow me inside. She catches sight of my expression and freezes.
“What is it?” she mouths.
I turn back to the house, not wanting her to see the true depth of my unease.
“Grayson? What the fuck is going on?”
The next noises I hear are the soundtrack to my life: Explosions. Bullets hitting metal. Glass shattering. Finally, someone speaks.
“Dante?” sobs a voice. “Dante, please don’t hang up on me.”
“Who the fuck is this? And how the fuck did you get this cell?”
“It’s Anna, Anna Williams… Eve’s friend. Joseph’s been shot.”
My stomach hits the floor. You fucking bastard, instinct. I’ll gut you like a fish.
“How bad?” I manage to grit out.
“Bad. Real bad.” She starts crying again. More bullets slam into a metal box a thousand miles away. “He was shot in the chest or shoulder. I can’t stop the bleeding. It’s fucking everywhere! He’s dying in my arms, and I don’t know what to do!”
Joseph doesn't die. I can’t even entertain that fucking scenario. He’s the brick and mortar of my entire operation. He has more bullet holes than I do.
“Is anyone else hurt?”
“No…No, just him. But there are cars chasing us. They’re shooting at us. Fuck!” She screams again as another round of bullets slams into their vehicle.
“Eyes on the fucking prize,” I snarl at her. “I’ll get you safe. Tell me where you are.”
“Leticia.”
Gomez. I can mobilize his men in minutes. I’ll send in a fleet of fucking helicopters if need be.
“Dante, what’s happened? Is it Joseph?” I don’t feel Eve’s soft touch on my arm. For once, I don’t even feel her soothing presence. The man I call my true brother needs my help and he’ll fucking have it, even if it means calling in every favor, contact and resource I’ve ever made.
“Give me your location coordinates.” I move swiftly toward my office, leaving Eve hanging. She’s used to it. She knows I never explain shit to anyone until I’m good and ready.
“I-I God, I don’t know! He told me to call you before he passed out. No, wait! He tracked the car. There must be a device on it somewhere.”
“I’ll access the data. What else?”
“We’re off-road. Somewhere near Emilio—your brother’s—former estate.”
“You, what?”
“Do you know where that is?”
Damn right, I do. Last time I was there one of his bastard men was torturing me.
Until Grayson saved my life…
Liked he saved it in Afghanistan, two decades ago.
Like he saved it six months ago.
It’s high time I repaid the fucking favor, don't you think?
“Yes. I know where that is. Are you driving?”
“No…”
She stops short of saying who is, but I’ve already made the deduction.
“Is he breathing?”
“Barely.”
“Then keep the pressure on. I’ve seen that bastard shot three times in one night and live to tell the tale. Remember what I told you, Anna?”
“Eyes on the prize,” she whispers.
“Right.”
Hanging up, I break into a run. Storming into my office, I