Once semi-alone, I pressed one hand across my face and allowed a few tears to fall. My baby. My sweet baby. I couldn’t imagine living my life without him. No. I would fight. That motherfucker wouldn’t be allowed to take my son away. I didn’t care what I needed to do.

  Maybe Chloe was right and I’d consider alternatives. God, if I did, the retaliation I’d live through would be horrible. But maybe my baby would be safe.

  And with his mother.

  Furious that I’d allow Malcolm to get the better of me, I frantically wiped the tears away. I was stronger than this. That fucking asshole was going to get what he had coming to him.

  Maybe two minutes later, I felt Kruz’s presence behind me and allowed him to guide us off the deck. “We’re leaving.” Once inside, I felt more eyes on us, but most were ones of sympathy. Jesus. They felt sorry for me. Awesome. A former socialite turned into a basic tramp. Perfect.

  “I’m sorry, Christine. You didn’t know they were seeing each other?”

  My laugh sounded even more bitter than before. Or strangled. Maybe I was diving straight into hysteria. “Pathetic, huh?”

  “How long since you two have been together?”

  “He wasn’t happy when I said I was pregnant, coming around less and less. When Maverick was born, he was busy all the time. I finally told him if he didn’t want to be in my life, that was fine. I thought that was it and I was perfectly happy raising Maverick by myself. He tried to come back a couple times. That’s when things got really ugly. At least maybe I haven’t lost all my friends. What a shame,” I said sarcastically. “We didn’t get a piece of cake.” I don’t know why I cared. At least I had the pleasant memories of seeing Malcolm’s body flying across the room. I’d almost squealed from joy.

  “You could always smash it in Malcolm’s face,” Kruz whispered in my ear.

  This time my laugh was filled with vigor. “Yes, I guess I could. But I wouldn’t mind going home. I need some time to myself. Or whatever.”

  “You’ll get your son back.”

  “How? He played every card. He’s rich. He and his family own half the judicial system. I can’t win against that man.”

  “Don’t underestimate certain less traditional powers, mi pequeño pastel.”

  “I wish I had your belief in good versus evil. Sadly, I know Malcolm far too well. No matter how dangerous you claim to be, you aren’t forced to live here or to face that man’s wrath.”

  “You’re right. However, that doesn’t mean you need to accept his insults or his threats.”

  “No, I don’t, but he has all the cards in his hands. The money. The power. I just don’t understand why he wants Maverick. He wanted me to have an abortion at first.”

  “Men only do things for two distinct reasons and both benefit themselves only. Now, come on. I’ll take you home.”

  I noticed he was continuously scanning the room all over again. “Who do you think is going to show up?”

  “I’m not certain.”

  “You’re lying to me. You were hoping someone would show at the party. That’s why we’re here.”

  “Why would I lie to you?” he asked as he guided me toward the door leading back into the house. “I simply wanted to meet Tonya. Now I have and I certainly didn’t like what I saw.”

  “Who are you really, Kruz? This party is all about Tonya and you never told me why. I think I’m owed that.”

  As I’d seen before, he wasn’t used to being challenged by anyone. “I’ll tell what you need to hear once we’re safe.”

  “Safe? What is really going on?”

  He suddenly stiffened when he heard a sound. His phone? As if by instinct, he stepped in front of me and jerked out his phone, staring down at the screen. He’d received a text.

  Instantly, I knew something was wrong.

  “Listen to me very carefully, Christine. We need to get out of here. Now. You will do as I say.” He jerked my arm, pulling me inside.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re soon to have company and trust me, they’re much worse than Malcolm.”

  “What are you talking about? Kruz. Talk to me.” He wasn’t interested in answering me. There was a strange vibe coming from him, a dim electric hum that was entirely different than what I’d felt the night before.

  He was on edge, his hand in his pocket.

  An eerie sensation washed over me as if we were being watched. There was another kind of electricity in the air. Everything shifted into a tight vacuum. Sights. Sounds.

  Suddenly, I could feel the rapid beating of my heart as it thudded against my chest. I looked down and noticed his weapon. The feeling of danger was all around us.

  Kruz wasn’t wasting any time, pushing his way through the crowd, not worrying about almost knocking guests to the side. Sensing his hurry to get out of the house, another wave of fear swept through me.

  Then everything settled into slow motion as the front door was flung open, men in suits filling the room.

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  As soon as gunfire erupted, Kruz pushed me against the wall. His weapon was in his hand and he swung around. “Stay down!”

  “What is happening?”

  “Do as I say.”

  There was no choice.

  People were running, screaming, and the men who’d filed into the room were shoving them aside. Everything was crazy, the melee turning into people being trampled.

  “Kruz!” I called just as one of the unknown men came into view. There was no doubt by the look on the man’s face that he was aiming for Kruz.

  Kruz pushed me away and spun around, firing off two shots. Without hesitation, he fired off several more.

  Different people suddenly appeared and it was obvious Kruz knew them. He shouted something, but everything was echoing in my ears.

  “Kruz,” a man with a deep voice said. “At least eight of them.”

  “Jesus Christ. Get her out of here. Now!” he yelled at one of them and suddenly, I was in another man’s arms being jerked toward the entrance. He was shielding me with his body, forcing me to go with him even as I struggled to jerk from his hold.

  “Kruz. Wait. Please!” Whoever I’d been passed off to was strong.

  “No!” the mystery man finally hissed and pulled me into the fresh air. The gunfire continued and there was no sign of Kruz anywhere. Oh, my God. What was going on?

  A crowd rushed the door, terrified of the gunfire.

  There were dozens of them.

  Another round of gunfire.

  Shouting.

  Running.

  Tripping.

  The man tried to shield me, crowding close to the exterior wall, but a sudden thud broke me free from his hold. Within seconds, I was being pushed with the crowd, chaos ensuing.

  I stumbled, almost falling on my face. When I struggled to a standing position, I spun around. The man working with Kruz was pushing his way toward me.

  Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me in the opposite direction. Screaming, I flailed my arms, fighting just to get to a better position. I had no idea who was holding me. One of Kruz’s men? Or someone else?

  The man had a menacing look on his face, hatred in his eyes. My instinct told me to run. I took off sprinting but didn’t get very far. I was grabbed by the back of the neck, jerked around like a ragdoll.

  I pitched my body, reaching behind me and using my fingernails as a weapon. His howl was followed with a weakening of his grip.

  Bolting forward, I caught a reflection in the window. He was right on top of me. Spinning around, I issued a hard punch, pain immediately tearing down my arm. But I refused to stop, kicking out. I had to get away. I had to find Kruz.

  My legs ached, but I ran, constantly searching, trying to find Kruz. A hard thud pitched me into the air and I was tackled to the ground. The feel of hard cold steel pressed against the side of my head caught my breath.

  Oh, God.

  “Stay still.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Don’t ask any questions. You’re coming with me.” Just as he started to pull me to a standing position, the pressure was relieved and I was dropped. Crawling, I twisted around, catching the look on Kruz’s face as he wrapped his hand around the unknown man’s throat.

  Pop! Pop!

  Now I knew without a doubt. There was no way to fantasize my thoughts, no pretending he was some big bad guy.

  He truly was.

  He was also a killer.

  As I slowly dropped my head, the sensations of being caught in a vacuum returned. My beautiful dress was likely ruined. Was it torn? Nope. Did the label say it was washable? Yes, it did. However, I wasn’t entirely certain blood and brain matter were supposed to be removed in a washing machine.

  Didn’t that take specialists? Like forensic scientists?

  A twisted laugh rose to the surface. There was no way I could stop the strangled sound.

  “Are you alright?” Kruz asked quietly from the driver’s seat.

  I hadn’t been paying attention, but even with the ringing in my ears from the horrific close-range gunfire, I thought he’d told me in no uncertain terms he was taking me home.

  Wouldn’t the police be there?

  Wouldn’t they be waiting for me, for us, asking question after question? Or worse, eager to arrest someone? It was official. I was close to reaching hysteria.

  “As fine as I can be wearing half of Mr. Killer’s brain.”

  He snorted in reply.

  “You’re taking this so casually, as if being in the middle of a shooting range is a typical day at the office for you.” When he didn’t respond, I tipped my head, studying him as the lights of the city streets flashed by. “My God. That’s not far from the truth. Is it?”

  “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

  “Said in every thriller movie where the bad guy meets the innocent girl. Only I’m no longer so innocent. Right? I allowed you to invade my life. My space.” My body. At least his influence and power over me had stopped right there. He wasn’t going to grab anything else essential.

  His sigh was another answer. The wrong one.

  “But you’re not hurt?” he repeated.

  “Just a little sore.”

  “I could kill the motherfucker all over again.”

  “Trust me. He’s very dead.” The world as I knew it, however good or bad it had been, had been ceremoniously destroyed by violence. At least Chloe and Troy had made it out before the carnage had begun, and her parents had yet to arrive.

  At this point, I was clueless about Tonya and Malcolm. While I wouldn’t admit it to anyone outside of the bright red car, a tiny part of me hoped Malcolm had died in the melee.

  Only there was a single problem.

  The man’s hatred of me had likely resulted in either his parents or his brother inheriting custody should anything happen to him. Besides, if he was dead, I had no doubt his family would try to frame me for his death. Maybe Tonya’s too.

  “He deserved to die,” he told me.

  “Why?”

  “He had no intention of letting you go.”

  “Why?” I pushed.

  “Likely because you were seen with me.”

  “And who the fuck are you? Not your name. Don’t give me the crap that it’s better if I didn’t know. I deserve to have a clear understanding of why my entire life just went up in smoke and people are dead.”

  He shifted in his seat as if the question made him uncomfortable. I highly doubted it. The man could wield a weapon like some sharpshooter. My guess was that he wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.

  “I’m considered a nightmare to everyone who crosses me.”

  “Does that mean I should be afraid of you?” I almost laughed. He was still planning on being cryptic.

  He tipped his head as he drove onto the freeway at a high rate of speed. “Are you?”

  “Maybe.” Which was the truth. “Where are we going?”

  “Back to your house. For now.”

  “What about the police?”

  “Trust me. I can handle the police.” His sneer pushed a trickle of fear into me.

  For now. His tone was entirely different than before. Suddenly, I was afraid of him. Very afraid. I was no fool. It was one thing to have him break into my house so he could hide from some other evil men. It was another that I’d seen him kill a number of people without hesitation or a single ounce of guilt. Cringing, I forced myself to stare at the ruined dress. No matter if it came clean, I would never wear it again.

  I wasn’t certain I wanted to go home.

  Everything was different since I’d experimented with sin, enjoying a side of a boogeyman who was polite, caring, and eager to please me with his lips and tongue. As well as his bank account. Yet he’d been right. Happiness wasn’t built on money. At least that’s what I’d also told myself when I’d shut the door on my past.

  Only you couldn’t really do that and in the end, money had reared its ugly head. So I’d allowed myself to sink into one big fantasy if only for a little while. A blip in an otherwise decently lived life. I’d considered myself a nice person, following all the rules and laws. But I’d wanted a taste of the dark side for myself.

  I’d gotten it in spades.

  Unfortunately, since the boogeyman had reared his handsome head, showing more of his many talents, things had changed. I’d changed. Maybe we both had. One day. That’s all it had taken. One horrible day.

  Right now, the ebb and flow of danger was a reminder that I’d never be able to escape another type of sin.

  The one from being born into the wrong family.

  “I need you to be very calm and do as I say, Christine. Can you do that for me? Can I count on you to be a very good girl right now until I can figure out how to handle this mess?”

  This mess.

  He made it sound as if he’d done nothing more than crash a party and knock out my ex-boyfriend. My mouth and throat were suddenly dry. Every muscle was tingling and if I wasn’t careful, I’d be close to hyperventilating. This was no fantasy, and he was certainly no Prince Charming.

  This was a nightmare and one I might not survive unless I got away from him.

  I knew the answer he wanted and maybe the only one that would keep me alive. So I looked him in the face, realizing my mistake in ever placing my trust in him. The man was handsome, intriguing, and debonair.

  And dangerous as hell. But I’d give him what he wanted until I could find a way to escape. So I responded exactly as he wanted to buy myself some time.

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Kruz

  “You certainly know how to make a mess. Am I going to find myself in the US to clean it up for you?”

  I wasn’t in the mood for Jago’s twisted sense of humor. Tonight had been worse than a shit storm. “Very funny, Jago. Not my problem. Not my party.”

  “I think that’s where you’re wrong. There’s a good chance you were the target. At least from what you told me. Any police? Any injuries?” he asked.

  “We managed to get out in time. I can’t say that for a number of guests. No police yet, but I’ll handle them if they make an appearance.”

  “Try not to start an actual war. I don’t mind telling you that there are only a few people you can trust in Miami. I can make a couple calls, but without soldiers to back you, the best thing to do is get the hell back here. I assume there weren’t any complications.”

  I’d called Jago just to keep him informed, surprised he’d returned the call only thirty minutes later given the time difference. The man never slept. I had no idea how he kept his relationship going other than that his wife was a badass herself.

  I glanced over at Christine. Her jaw was tight and she was staring out the windshield. I took the exit leading to the street where she lived, forced to slow down.

  “Unfortunately, I have one.”

  “One you can deal with?”

  “I’m working on it.” What the hell was I going to do with her? I couldn’t leave her with what she’d seen. I didn’t hurt women, had certainly never killed one and wasn’t about to start now. Yes, I’d meant what I’d said to her. She needed to stay calm and obedient. I’d never put myself in this kind of situation before.

  I could smell the fear on her. Being front row to several brutal murders could do that to a person.

  “Whatever it is, get rid of it,” Jago told me. “What about Fassi? Any sign of him?”

  “I think it’s fair to say Fassi has left the city, likely the country. His mistress was of little help, although there was some recognition.”

  “Which means she could have tipped Fassi or his men off.”

  “That’s a stretch given the timing. I’m not even certain the two were extremely close.” I was doing my best to keep from relaying too much information with Christine sitting right next to me. Tonya had been somewhat hard to read, but I doubted the alliance with Malcolm was by their choosing. Perhaps Tonya had been playing a dangerous game with Fassi as well. A clear reason for why she’d ended up dead.

  “Maybe just a goddamn wild goose chase. He wanted to see how stupid we were.” Jago cursed under his breath.

  Stupid wasn’t the word I’d use. Fassi was clever, but he’d made enough mistakes it would be difficult for him to regroup. We had to flush him out before he rebuilt his army.

  “We need to play this carefully. I think there’s more going on that we don’t know,” I told him.

  “I’ll be eager to hear your thoughts.”

  What role did the lovely woman sitting beside me have in the mess? That was the question with seemingly no answers.

  Nothing about Christine surprised me any longer, including her resilience, but the way she slowly turned her head toward me confirmed she was anxious. She glared at me with a combination of terror and remorse.

  I expected to see tears in her eyes, but her look was one of determination.

  And anger.

  She was furious with me. She hadn’t felt that way when I’d roughed up her ex. I should have killed the bastard when I’d had the chance. While maybe not appropriate, I smiled. She was more than a handful.