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They're two wild animals who have been sharing the same territory for years. Guerrero thought he could encroach and take what didn't belong to him. He thought Roman was tamed. That he was soft.
He thought wrong.
And now he isn't sure what to do.
"Let them go, Julio," he says eventually, resignation plain in his voice.
"Fuck that pig," Julio mutters, glaring balefully at Roman.
"Do not test me, Guerrero. I will kill her in a heartbeat to keep that baby away from you and your fucking boss," Roman says, his voice so soft the howling wind almost snatches it away.
Guerrero hears him though. His eyes widen, something close to shock rolling through his system. "I gave you a fucking order," he snaps at Julio, anger thickening his accent. "Let them go."
"C'mon, boss," Julio protests, puffing out his chest like he's the big man on campus. "Just shoot his bitches and be done with this shit. This pendejo probably doesn't even have your sister."
His sister?
What the hell?
Guerrero spins on Julio in the blink of an eye, snarling. Rage gleams in his eyes, making him look crazed. Any attempt at looking respectable is gone, ripped away by the hatred swirling through his dark eyes. The cold-blooded murderer peeks out, little vestiges of excitement mixing with fury as he raises his arm. The black gun in his hand doesn't waver as he aims at Julio.
Tahani screams from beside me when she catches sight of it, her voice sharp with panic.
Carter curses softly and spins out of the line of fire, diving into the sand.
Two loud cracks rip through the air like explosions.
Tahani throws herself to the ground with another loud cry of alarm, nearly pulling me to my knees beside her.
Julio lurches forward and then falls to his knees.
Even though I know the sound was gunshots, even though I recognize the blood spreading across Julio's white shirt and the gun falling from his hand, ducking for cover doesn't even register in my mind. All I can think about is Roman. I whip my head from side to side, looking for him, trying to make sure he's still breathing.
"Get down," he yells at me as he flies past me in a blur of motion.
I drop to the damp sand instantly, and then hear a loud grunt and what sounds like someone falling. A loud cry rings out, and then the unmistakable sound of a fist striking flesh reaches me.
I push myself to my knees and turn just in time to see Roman's fist connect with Guerrero's jaw. He's got one hand wrapped around Guerrero's tie, with Guerrero on his ass in the sand. Guerrero isn't helpless, though. Far from it.
His foot connects with the side of Roman's knee, knocking him off-balance. Roman falls backward, dragging Guerrero on top of him, thanks to his tight hold on the man's tie.
They roll around in the sand, a blur of flailing limbs, flying sand, and roaring curses. Even then, Roman moves with a deadly grace that steals my breath. He's hypnotic, ensnaring me as he rages against Guerrero, landing blow after blow to the man's face and ribs. Guerrero lands just as many, but Roman doesn't even flinch. A fury like I've never seen before burns in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his face hard and terrifying.
"You sold your own fucking sister to Francisco, you prick," Roman growls.
"Fuck you, pendejo," Guerrero spits, blood flying from his lips.
Someone wraps their arms around me from behind as I watch Roman strike Guerrero in the face again. I scream and fight like hell, flinging myself back and forth to get free. All I can think is that Julio isn't dead, and he's trying to finish what Guerrero couldn't.
"Calm down, darlin'."
The fight drains out of me as soon as that gruff voice sounds next to my ear. I sag in Officer Carter's arms, allowing him to lift me up. Like Roman, he doesn't even notice my weight, instead plucking me up and setting me on my feet like a little kid.
As soon as I'm steady, he grabs Tahani and pulls her to her feet. Once she's upright, he raises what I think is Julio's gun and positions himself between us and Julio like he's trying to keep us from seeing his body, though it's a little too late for that.
Julio lies face down in the sand, not moving. There are two holes in his back, and his shirt is stained red. His blood soaks into the sand around him, staining it too. The sight makes my stomach roil and roll. I quickly shift my gaze away from him, back to Roman and Guerrero.
Guerrero is on his back in the sand with Roman straddling him. Blood flies from Guerrero's mouth as Roman's fist connects with his face over and over again. Each hit causes the cartel leader to grunt and curse, a mixture of English and Spanish leaving his lips in a nonsensical flood. He bucks upward, trying to fling Roman off to no avail.
