He nods, and I run down the stairs and out back and see the helicopter lift into the air.
“Who got on that fucker?” I demand.
“Lincoln,” Rome replies as he runs over and joins me. Our men are still shooting, killing the army that he had here. “But he was alone.”
“He fucking better be alone,” I yell as I run back for the house, but there’s an explosion, knocking us back, and fear settles in my gut for the first time in a long fucking time.
“Report,” Carson yells.
One by one, the teams respond, all the number twos, except for Diego.
“He was upstairs,” I say as I run toward the fire. “He was looking for Rose.”
No. Fuck no. My man isn’t dead.
“You can’t go in there,” Rome says, but I don’t reply.
As I get to the door, Diego comes through, holding a woman bridal-style, both of them covered in soot and coughing, and when I see the red hair, Iknow.
We have Rose.
Forty-Three
VIOLET
“Has he said anything?” I ask for the sixtieth time. “And why can’t I have an earbud. I need to hear.”
“No, you don’t,” Lucky says. The man hardly ever speaks, so the fact that he’s telling me this now puts me on edge.
“Why? Did something happen to Rose? Please talk to me.”
Suddenly, there’s an explosion in the distance, and I scream as I jump in the seat.
“Let me out.” I pull on the handle, but the door is locked and the child-safety mechanism is engaged. “Let me the fuck out of here!”
“No, ma’am,” Bobby says, any sign of humor long gone from his voice. I can see that he and Lucky are listening intently to what’s happening in their earpieces, and I’m so fuckingfrustrated.
“Please tell me what’s going on?”
“Diego isn’t accounted for,” Bobby mutters.
“No. Nonononono. Diego’s fine.” I shake my head, and my eyes fill with tears. Jesus, they’re all here because ofme. If Mateo had never met me, this wouldn’t be happening. None of these men can die tonight. “He has to be fine.”
I’m about to have a full-blown hysterical panic attack when Bobby starts the vehicle, and I see all the men outside run for their own SUVs, and then we’re moving.
“Did they find her?” I demand, but they won’t answer me. “DID THEY FIND HER? Talk to me, damn it!”
They both stay quiet, and I’m ready to pull my hair out when Bobby turns down a driveway and through an open gate. Men are lying all over, obviously dead, and nausea rolls through me.
So many dead.
“How many of those are ours?” I ask, but again, they don’t tell me anything, and finally, Bobby comes to a stop and the locks disengage.
I open the door and fly out of the car, running as fast as I can and screaming Mateo’s name.
“MATEO! Mateo!” I’m crying, and I can’t catch my breath, and then my husband comes running around the building, and I’ve never been so relieved. “Where’s Diego? Is he hurt?”
“Baby.” He wraps me in his arms, and then I feel something warm and sticky on his left biceps.