Angel moves like a wild beast, quick and decisive. In a split-second, he’s pulled two small objects out from his belt and whipped them to either side of the road. They roll to the edge of the forest and then explode in fiery flashes.
I can’t help but flinch at the violence. Trees creak and fall and a great cloud of dust shrouds the road. Angel takes advantage of the cover to make a run for his range rover.
He makes it behind the passenger door just as the shooting starts.
A savage streak of panic rips through my gut at the familiar sound. It’s even closer this time. Thunder encompasses the world and rattles the limo as bullets careen off every inch of the earth.
I curl up in a ball, with my hands over my head, praying for the thunder to stop, until the gunfire finally pauses. The roars echo through the air as I shake in my little fortress. My eyes are clenched shut; they won’t open. I keep expecting another round of gunfire to rip through my eardrums.
Instead, muffled shouts slam against the rear windshield. One of the voices is clearly Angel; I don’t recognize the other. Curiosity gets the better of me and I crawl onto my hands and knees just enough to peak out of the now splintered glass.
Angel is still behind the passenger door of his range rover. The hood is riddled with fresh, steaming bullet holes, but my tiger seems unharmed. He re-loads his gun and shouts out to some unseen enemy.
My eyes search for my gunslinger’s opponent. It doesn’t take long to spot the giant. A man, even bigger than Angel, dressed up like an American cowboy, with a black Stetson hat and all, hides behind a thick tree on the opposite end of the road. His gun is bigger than Angel’s, too, but that just means it takes him longer to reload.
Angel starts firing again and the giant cowboy is taken by surprise. A bullet catches him in the shoulder and he’s flung off of his feet, creaking over like one of the trees. His gun falls from his grip and, in an instant, Angel has jumped out from behind his cover and sprinted over to the wounded cowboy. The bleeding stalker doesn’t stand a chance. The barrel of Angel’s pistol is pointed directly i
n the man’s face before anyone can take a second breath.
I don’t dare move.
... Is Angel a killer?
The thought isn’t a new one. From the moment I saw him, to this moment now, I’ve assumed he was some hardened criminal who got rich off the misery of others. He never confirmed it, but who couldn’t have guessed?
Still, watching him have the power of life and death on his fingertips gives me pause. We just kissed. I just felt something for this man that I’ve never felt for anyone ever before. Even with all the despair and destruction, whatever we have growing between us is still able to survive, still able to grow. I’ve seen more death today than I ever have before in my entire life, but I still haven’t seen the man who takes someone’s life for his own.
Is Angel that kind of man?
Do I care?
A week ago, I would have said he was and that it was the reason I hated him. A cold, ruthless bully with no concern for anyone but himself. But now, I’m not so sure. Could I fall for a man like that? Have I?
I watch as the two men share words in as calm a manner as anyone could expect in such a situation. The wounded cowboy in the black hat has his arms on his chest; blood leaks from his broad shoulders. I can’t hear what anyone is saying, and I almost don’t want to, but it seems final.
This is the world you were born into, Catalina, a little voice in my head reminds me. The violence and the death and the suffering, it’s all yours to inherit, along with the money—but only if you want it.
Marcela’s lifeless blue hand flashes through my mind and my gut convulses in agony.
I was freed from that dark underworld when my family was wiped from the earth, but the rest of my life has been a constant struggle to regain what I lost; what I thought I deserved. But my memories are tainted. This isn’t what I want. It can’t be.
Right?
... I don’t know.
What I do know is that I want Angel. As frustrating as that thought is, it’s the only thing that is clear right now.
I gaze through the splintered glass at my beastly savior, the falling king of some mysterious and violent empire I know nothing about; he straddles over a bleeding man who came here to kill me, a man who probably had a strong hand in killing everyone I know.
My past has been wiped out twice before, and I’ve never seen anything but pain from it. My heart hurts, my memories are heavy and dark. I want retribution. I want something more than what I’ve been left. I want Angel.
Through the window, I see my fiancé stop talking. Silence fills the world, but it isn’t tense. I know what’s about to happen.
Angel pulls the trigger; I barely flinch.
21
Angel