Page 98 of Cartel Devil

“Would you prefer to head back, then?”

I sigh.

“I don’t want to, but it’s probably for the best if we do.”

We head toward the parking structure. It made Joaquin twitchy to park here. He feels it’s too exposed, with places for someone to hide. The head guard, waiting with four other men to protect the vehicle, greets us.

“¿Qué pasa?”

Joaquin asks the guard what’s going on. I don’t think he’s overly suspicious or concerned right now. I think it’s just a regular check-in.

“Nada, capo.”

I sweep my gaze over our SUV, along with the three parked near ours. Guards surround those vehicles too. We have a full array of Diaz and Vizzini men. Knowing they’re protecting me, my dad’s men have been incredibly accommodating to Joaquin. They’ve been willing to take orders from him gracefully. I feared there’d be conflict among the men, but I’m ever grateful they’re getting along for my sake.

One of Joaquin’s men opens the back passenger-side door, and I slide in. It’s become customary for me to do this, so Joaquin never has to be on the opposite side of me while outside the vehicle. Joaquin holds my hand as I ease onto the middle seat, preferring not to be that far from him. I know he prefers it too, since that’s where he tugged me to the first time we went out after I was discharged. I had to sit by the window on the way home from the hospital because my parents were in the third row, and Tristano was in the front passenger seat.

I rest my head against Joaquin’s shoulder, and he switches hands so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders as we pull out of the parking garage.

“Sleep, little one. It’s not like there’s much to see.”

It’s so tough not calling him Daddy in moments like this, but I would never do that, especially not in front of the men who work for Joaquin. We enter traffic, and there’s really no reason for me to remain awake, so I shut my eyes. I’m not entirely sure I’ll fall asleep, but I can tell I’m dozing.

I’m in that semi-state—half-asleep, half-awake—when Joaquin yells to the driver.

“Pull over! Pull over right now! Stop! Chiquita, wake up. Wake up.”

He jostles my shoulder, and my eyes snap open as I look around. Joaquin reaches across me and unfastens my seat belt as the car comes to a stop. His hand undoes his belt, then pulls the door handle before he kicks it open. His hand wraps around my upper arm. He pulls and practically yanks it from the socket.

“Come on, chiquita. We have to go.”

“Joaco—”

“Tre, now.”

I don’t understand what’s happening, and I have to concentrate on where we’re going to keep up with Joaquin. His men are encircling us, guns drawn. He twists and hefts me over his shoulder and takes off at a sprint.

We haven’t gotten as far as I thought when a fireball leaps toward the sky, and it feels like someone pitched me into a burning furnace. It takes me a moment to comprehend what’s going on around us.

The SUV we were in only a minute ago exploded, and flaming pieces rain down from the sky. The scent of burning rubber scorches my nostrils, and a wave of nausea makes me gag. I feel like I’m falling, yet I know Joaquin’s cradling me as he drops to his knees, then covers my body with his. I curl up as small as I can with him already pressing down on me before I can fully gather my wits. Two more bombs detonate only a couple seconds apart from each other, destroying two other SUVs.

“Joaco?”

“I’m here, chiquita. Are you okay?”

“Yes, you?”

He grunts.

“Joaco—”

I try to push him off me, but he doesn’t budge. I can’t tell if he’s injured and can’t, or he refuses so he can protect me. Either way, it’s getting hard to breathe with his weight bearing down on me.

“Joaquin, I need air.”

I’m gasping at this point. The moment he hears me, he pushes up onto his hands and knees, but he doesn’t stand. He stares at me and looks around. I try to do the same, but he shifts and blocks my line of sight.

That tells me it’s bad.