Page 20 of Tainted Blood
“Santi, I—”
The pained groan from a few feet away claims our attention. Both of us turn, not daring to breathe as, five hours after undergoing a risky and illegal operation, Sanders’s lips part, and he lets out a rattled hiss.
“No… Hmmphh… Run…”
Shit, he’s in bad shape. Baxter warned us that his chances of survival were still slim. Hell, I almost feel sorry for the bastard as we listen to him wheezing and coughing his way around to consciousness. His face is the color of chalk mixed with dirty dishwater. It reminds me of the grimy snow coating a dark street, ten years ago. The night I first met the cocky American.
The moment I see his eyelids flicker, I stride forward, only to have RJ slam his arm across my chest. “Give him a minute. You can’t force answers from a dead man.”
A minute turns into twelve.
I rub my thumb across the back of my wedding ring, spinning it like a Roulette wheel just to keep my mind occupied. To keep from peeling that bastard’s eyelids back myself and shaking him until some fucking answers fall out.
Lucky for us both, they finally open on their own. Squinting against the harsh lights, it takes him a few minutes to focus, and then he’s darting his eyes around the room, absorbing every detail as the cartel underboss in him takes over.
I say nothing, continuing to spin my ring.
Until his gaze lands on me.
I anticipate the moment his confusion morphs into rage. I wait for it… Salivate for it. Instead, his lips flatten into a grimace.
“Great party, Carrera,” he croaks, his gaze lowering to all the tubes protruding from his chest. “Your hospitality skills could use a little work, though.”
I pause my relentless spinning. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“No. That was sarcasm.” He coughs again, his brittle voice getting lost in his fight to breathe. “Then again, I wouldn't expect a Carrera to know the difference.”
I lunge toward him. “You motherfucking—”
“Do you know where you are, Sanders?” RJ asks, blocking me from strangling him with another swing of his arm across my chest.
He’s overstepping, and it’s about to cause me to redirect my rage.
“I assume”—Sanders clenches his teeth as his chest rattles again—“Carrera took a cheap shot at me.”
¡Hijo de su putra madre! Granted, I had him carved up in the basement of a casino, but you’d think the asshole could show a little gratitude for not leaving him to bleed to death.
“It wasn’t me, you idiota. You’d remember my fucking smile when I pulled that trigger.”
“Then why go to all this trouble?” He narrows his eyes at me in suspicion. “I don’t play games, Carrera. Especially ones that end with my guts on display.”
“You seem to be under the impression you have a choice.”
RJ steps in front of me to diffuse the tension. “We heard shots, then found you in the back parking lot with two rounds in you.”
“And I’m supposed to believe a bunch of Carreras have been standing vigil over my bedside?” he hisses. “Give me a fucking break.”
I’ve had enough of this. Pushing RJ aside, I lean over him, slamming both my hands on either side of the gurney. “I don’t give a shit what you believe, Sanders. I didn’t fix you so you could live a long, happy life, pendejo. You got that? You walked, uninvited, into my party and then walked Thalia into a goddamn trap!” I roar out the final two words, the gurney shaking as I smack my palms against the edge.
I’d prefer to be smacking eight inches north, but I need him conscious.
I watch the wheels spinning in his head as the clouds thin. I sense the conflict as his loyalty fights a winless battle against the reality that’s slowly taking hold of him… I feel the moment truth grabs him by the throat.
Sam’s icy facade is swallowed by blunt fear. “Thalia. Is she…?”
“If I knew the answer to that, do you think you’d still have air in your lungs?” Pushing away from the gurney, I cross the room in a couple of strides, shoving my hand into my pocket and clenching it around Thalia’s rings. “This is all that’s left of her,” I roar, shoving them in his face. “Now, where is she?”
“Where did you find those?” His voice is starting to slur. “I told her...told her to wait and toss them in the Hudson.”