cut to her and returned to the road. “How are you doing?”
“I’m in shock, I think.”
“It’s the blood loss. And the adrenaline dump. You single-handedly took down all four of Hector’s sons.”
“I had help.”
“You’re a goddamn warrior. The fucking bullet is still in your leg.” His hand clenched on the steering wheel. “Restrepo’s doctor is waiting on the plane. You’re going to be okay.”
She believed him.
She loved him.
How could she not? They’d been through hell and back together. Sacrificed their lives for each other. Witnessed each other at their lowest, most degrading points.
Funny how the threat of death opened a person’s eyes. Without tribulation and strife, a woman could go her life and never truly understand the meaning of love.
Had Vera spent enough time with Luke without all the danger, she would’ve eventually fallen for him. But after everything they’d been through, time had no bearing. After meat hooks, spiders, metal dildos, jealous bitches, and gunshot wounds, their relationship had been tested more in a short period than most couples experienced in an entire lifetime.
They’d already proved they could overcome anything together.
“Luke.”
“Mm?”
“I have something to tell you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I love you, too.”
She grunted a breath that tumbled into a pain-laced groan. “You ruined it.”
“You can still say it. Go ahead.”
“But now you know what I’m going to say. It’s lost its impact.”
“Jesus, Vera, don’t you know that every word that passes your lips impacts me? When you say those three words the first time, the next time, and if I’m lucky enough to hear them more times than that, they will have an impact, profoundly, significantly, in every way that matters.”
She couldn’t feel her injury. Or her legs. He was the cure for pain, pushing it into extinction and replacing it with sublime, soul-deep joy.
She let her head roll toward him and waited for his gaze. “I love you.”
He didn’t smile. Didn’t repeat the words back. But it was all in his eyes. The coming together. The collision of souls. The brilliant shine.
The impact.
The force was so great she felt it everywhere.
“Eyes on the road.” Her lips quirked.
Sprawled in a seat that seemed to be made for him, he shifted through gears with the confidence and fearlessness of a race car driver. He was in his element, driving too fast and taking too many risks. The car suited the man. Sexy as all hell.
“Is this Marco’s sports car?”
He made a choking sound. “It’s a hyper…car. A Koenigsegg Agera. Fastest car in existence.”
As if to prove that, he opened the gas and tore down the road at dizzying speeds.
There was no one in front of them, but the side mirror revealed a long trail of hypercars behind him, glimmering in every color. She recognized them from Marco’s collection.
“Where’s Romero?” she asked.
“In the Lambo.” He flicked a finger at the rearview mirror. “Those are my guys. I doubt they’ll keep up, but they know where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home. Colombia. To see your sister.” He gripped her hand. “We made it, Vera. Just hang on a little longer.”
She wove her fingers around his and squeezed.
For him, she would hang on forever.
CHAPTER 28
Vera lay on her back on a plush sofa in Matias Restrepo’s personal jet. With her head propped on Luke’s lap and a heady flow of pain killers circulating through her system, she floated on a cloud.
This is what freedom feels like.
Voices whispered through the cabin. Jet engines hummed, and Luke’s warm hand kept a constant, hypnotic rhythm along her arm, lulling her deeper into tranquility.
This is what love feels like.
He spoke quietly with two lethally handsome men who sat across from him. They’d introduced themselves as Tate Vades and Cole Hartman.
Lucia Dias, sister-in-law to the Restrepo capo, reclined beside Tate with a leg hooked over his knee. The beautiful Latina worked silently on her laptop as Tate absently stroked her inner thigh.
More vigilantes filled the seats in the front of the plane. Others had stayed behind to sell Marco’s cars, relocate the girls, and clean up loose ends. They were also looking for Tomas. He hadn’t contacted anyone since last night.
Picar, the cartel’s doctor, hunched over Vera’s exposed thigh, putting his final touches on the wound. She’d already received a blood transfusion and IV fluids. It was no surprise that the aircraft was equipped with the personnel and supplies to treat injuries. Cartel business was bloody.
At first, she didn’t think the old doctor’s cloudy eyes could see past his own nose. But he’d had no trouble locating and