Raging Heart On_ Friends to Lovers Romance(103)

I look at him confused, having no idea what on earth he is talking about. I decide to ignore him as my hand finds a key ring hanging from the guard’s belt. I try to pull it off, but it just extends and then pulls back. With a heavy sigh, I go to undo the man’s belt. “I’m sorry about this; you gave your life today and…”

“You do realize he can’t hear a damn thing you’re saying?”

I have to push and prod the body to get the belt off. “I’m not stupid; I talk when I’m nervous. You could help you know!” I huff. I figure I’m going too far. He’ll probably kill me at any minute. I know it’s an issue, but I do talk when I’m nervous. I can’t control it. One of my foster mothers used to say I had verbal diarrhea. She was a bitch.

“Just hurry.”

Just hurry. I mimic him in my mind; though I’d really like to do it out loud. Once I manage to get the belt free, I stand. I stumble once because my legs feel like jelly. My hand is shaking when I reach for the lock. I tilt my head forward and to the right to dodge the gun. I can almost feel the cold metal.

“Don’t you dare shoot me,” I grumble, continuing to go through the twenty plus keys on the chain.

“You’re awfully bossy for a hostage,” his dark voice rumbles. “And who is Winfred?”

I freeze—yet again. I think about explaining, but I ignore him instead. Finally, I find the right key and the metal lock opens. The shackles slowly fall to the ground. I jump at their heavy clang. Before I can run, he grabs me by the elbow and starts pulling me toward the chaos.

“You know you might come off hot and sexy on paper, but in person you are the Devil.”

He grunts and continues to pull me along. I want to argue, but I know it’s useless.

“Remember what I told you. Keep your head down and only speak when I give you permission.”

I bite my lip to keep from begging him to let me go and let him pull me along. At least he’s partially blocking my body. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and a stray bullet will take him out. A girl can hope, and I ignore the twinge of guilt I feel. I can’t still be infatuated with Max after this, surely. That would truly mean I’m insane.

After I sneak a look around the first area we enter, I change my mind. All around me are guards, dead, unconscious, or bleeding and tied up. Prisoners surround them, with guns pointed and ready. It’s like a scene from a Bruce Willis movie. I may never watch another one of those again.

“Who do we have here, Gringo?” A heavily laced Spanish accent asks, and I suddenly remember, very vividly, that I was told not to look up. I have no problem with that. In fact, I think I’d love to bury my head in the sand at the moment.

“My lawyer,” Mad Max replies and the way he says it, it sounds like we really know each other.

“Damn, Max you know how to pick em. Send her my way and give me a little taste of that honey.”

I’m keeping my head down, but I can see him reach for me out of the corner of my vision. I can’t help but stumble back against my captor. Suddenly, he feels a lot safer than the other possibility here.

“No way, Hernandez. This is my private pussy. I’m about to go through that tunnel you guys made, get the fuck out of dodge and get my dick wet for the first time in years.”

His words make my body lurch with a sick feeling of dread. Mocking all those stupid girlish fantasies I had, in ways this situation hasn’t yet. Why did I think Max was a safer choice? It dawns on me that there is no safe place. I am probably going to die. The only question will be, what will happen to me beforehand?

“I thought you had no interest in leaving? I believe you told us to fuck off when we asked for help.”

“I’ve changed my mind, and since I didn’t rat your asses out, I figure I did my part.”

“This is where we disagree. I think you owe a little more than that,” the Spanish guy says, as he moves his hand to my cheek and wrenches my face up. It hurts and tears sting my eyes. My nails bite into the thick, muscled arm of Max.

That’s when I see the Max who committed the murder. His hands move so fast; it’s a blur. He grabs the other guy by the neck and slams him hard against the wall. The guy’s feet are a good two inches from the ground. Max moves his face in close to the other guy, and his voice is so cold, chills move through my body. It feels as if the air around me has dropped a good twenty degrees. Max is that deadly now.

“In what universe did you think it was okay to touch what is mine, Hernandez?”

“Easy, Gringo. Easy! I was just playing. No harm, no foul.”

“Wrong. You put your hands on my property. The way I look at it, now you owe me, asshole.”