Page 101 of Cartel Devil

He turns toward me and shakes his head. “I’m fine, chica.”

“You are not fine. Your suit’s ripped, and I can see blood soaking through your shirt.”

“Yes, but I’m still fine.”

“Stubborn. We need to take you to a hospital.”

“No. Talk to your uncle while I talk to mine.”

I stare at him open-mouthed and flabbergasted. He shoots me a hard look before turning away again.

“Uncle Tommaso, he needs a doctor. I don’t know how many men we lost or who’s injured. Joaquin kept me from seeing most of the scene. The men who escorted us to the bank might be injured too, but they’re waiting outside. I didn’t get a clear look. One moment we were in the car, and I was half-asleep. The next moment, Joaquin’s ordering the driver to pull over, then he’s practically dragging me out of the car. He was as gentle as he could be as he carried me a few feet away, then lowered me to the ground. He must have gotten hurt when he covered me with his body. Shrapnel.”

“Tre, we have to go.”

I look over at Joaquin as he rises. He thrusts out his hand, but he’s not looking at me. He’s scanning our surroundings. I don’t know what Enrique told him or what threat he perceives.

“Should I hang up?”

“No.”

“Tricia?!”

“Something’s wrong, Uncle Tommaso. Joaquin says we have to go again. He wants me to stay on the line with you.”

“Follow everything he says exactly the way he says it. I’ve already got men headed to you. Activate your tracker, and I’ll have them find you.”

“All right.”

Joaquin takes my left hand and gently pulls me forward until he can wrap his arm around my waist. I don’t know if things are less urgent than before or if he’s just being more mindful. Perhaps it’s because we’re in a more crowded area, and he doesn’t want to rouse any suspicions. He shoves my half-finished water into his pocket and thanks the man as we head outside.

“Joaco, what’s happening?”

“Tío wants us on the move. Even with the bank being the most secure place we can be, most of the exterior walls are made of glass. He’s got men a block away.”

“He does? How? The Iglesiases?”

“No. There isn’t a large Colombian community here, but there are enough.”

It relieves me that it isn’t another syndicate we’re relying on. I don’t trust anyone who isn’t related to my family or Joaquin’s or doesn’t work for one of them. Then again… As I survey the men surrounding us, I wonder if one of them is behind this. Did someone defect?

Joaquin leans close to whisper in my ear. “I’m watching them, little one.”

I don’t know if it’s great minds think alike or he can tell I’m suspicious. It reassures me that I’m not paranoid. Though after almost dying in a car bomb, I think it’s justified to doubt everything and everyone—but Joaquin—around me.

We barely make it halfway down the sidewalk before glass shatters, and the sound of gunfire follows. I twist to look over my shoulder, but I see nothing because Joaquin’s now standing in the way. He’s already injured, denying that it’s serious, and now he’s my human shield. It’s not what I want, but we’re both thinking about our baby.

“Where’s it coming from?”

I’m panting as I run. These sudden spikes of adrenaline along with ligament pain in my belly make it hard for me to move fast enough.

“Within the bank.”

“What? Did you see someone? Is that how you knew?”

“Sensed it. Tío Enrique suspected someone would get in through the back, and clearly they did. Can you keep going?”

“I’m trying.”