Read Online Flirting with Disaster by Jane Graves - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jane Graves
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as blink.
Finally Enrique turned away. “Fine. Do it. Just don’t fuck it up.”
Ivan glared at Enrique. “He’s not going to fuck up anything.”
“Yeah. Well, maybe we’d better stick around just to make sure.”
“We don’t need to stick around. If my brother says he’ll handle it, he’ll handle it.”
“I’m just not sure about the kid. That’s all.”
“Hey!” Ivan said. “Who do you think fingered the two of them in the first place? Huh? Without Gabrio, they’d be across the border by now.”
And Lisa would be alive. And Adam wouldn’t be bleeding to death. Jesus Christ—what had he done?
Finally Enrique went to the trunk of his car, grabbed a shovel, and stabbed it into the ground in front of Gabrio. “On second thought, it won’t be a problem. I mean, you know the penalty for fucking this up, don’t you, kid?”
He did. No mercy. If anyone found out Adam was alive, he was dead. And nothing Ivan could say would stop that. Hell, right now he wasn’t completely sure his own brother wouldn’t be the one to pull the trigger.
Ivan turned to Gabrio. “Come back to the house when you’re through. We’ll have a couple of beers, huh?”
He clapped Gabrio on the shoulder one more time, and then he and Enrique turned and walked toward the car. Gabrio forced himself to wait until the car disappeared down the road, then turned and raced back down the hillside. He knelt beside Adam.
“Dr. Decker. Hey, man. Can you hear me?”
The man stirred slightly but didn’t respond. Gabrio yanked off his shirt, jerking it hard until it tore. He wadded up part of the shirt and pressed it hard against the wound, then ripped a couple of strips from it and tied it around the man’s chest to hold the pack in place. But it wasn’t working. By the faint light of the rising sun Gabrio saw blood still coming out. And the doctor’s head was still bleeding, too. What the hell was he going to do now?
“I’m sorry,” he said, tears clouding his eyes. “I’m so sorry. . . .”
The man needed a doctor. Unfortunately, the only one in Santa Rios wanted him dead. And the second Gabrio’s brother found out what he’d done . . .
Then he remembered Adam’s last words: Go to Sera. She’ll help you. Just go to Sera—
Right now, she was the only person on this earth that he thought he just might be able to trust.
For the past two days, Serafina Cordero had sat in the upstairs bedroom of her rambling farmhouse, sleeping only when she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She felt like crying, but she didn’t have a tear inside her left to shed.
Adam was dead.
She leaned back in the rocking chair where she sat, dropping her head against it and closing her eyes. She’d always thought of herself as a strong, resilient person who could take whatever life threw at her. But not this. Not this.
During the two years Adam had come to Santa Rios to volunteer at the clinic, their interaction—long conversations, shared moments of laughter, eyes meeting in prolonged glances—had slowly become as intimate as if they were lovers. But whenever it looked as if their relationship might move toward a physical acknowledgment, he’d kept her at arm’s length. Yes, she’d been younger than him. At twenty-seven, much younger. And the death of his wife only three years before had surely affected the way he felt about other women. But the connection between them had been so strong and so real that she knew he had to feel it, too. He had to feel how much she loved him.
But still he’d left her.
It had crushed her when Adam told her he was moving to Chicago and wouldn’t be back. But even though he would have been hundreds of miles away, she could have had hope. She could have hoped that somewhere down the road their lives would intersect again and she’d have the future with him she’d always dreamed of.
But now he was gone forever.
She looked out the window to
Finally Enrique turned away. “Fine. Do it. Just don’t fuck it up.”
Ivan glared at Enrique. “He’s not going to fuck up anything.”
“Yeah. Well, maybe we’d better stick around just to make sure.”
“We don’t need to stick around. If my brother says he’ll handle it, he’ll handle it.”
“I’m just not sure about the kid. That’s all.”
“Hey!” Ivan said. “Who do you think fingered the two of them in the first place? Huh? Without Gabrio, they’d be across the border by now.”
And Lisa would be alive. And Adam wouldn’t be bleeding to death. Jesus Christ—what had he done?
Finally Enrique went to the trunk of his car, grabbed a shovel, and stabbed it into the ground in front of Gabrio. “On second thought, it won’t be a problem. I mean, you know the penalty for fucking this up, don’t you, kid?”
He did. No mercy. If anyone found out Adam was alive, he was dead. And nothing Ivan could say would stop that. Hell, right now he wasn’t completely sure his own brother wouldn’t be the one to pull the trigger.
Ivan turned to Gabrio. “Come back to the house when you’re through. We’ll have a couple of beers, huh?”
He clapped Gabrio on the shoulder one more time, and then he and Enrique turned and walked toward the car. Gabrio forced himself to wait until the car disappeared down the road, then turned and raced back down the hillside. He knelt beside Adam.
“Dr. Decker. Hey, man. Can you hear me?”
The man stirred slightly but didn’t respond. Gabrio yanked off his shirt, jerking it hard until it tore. He wadded up part of the shirt and pressed it hard against the wound, then ripped a couple of strips from it and tied it around the man’s chest to hold the pack in place. But it wasn’t working. By the faint light of the rising sun Gabrio saw blood still coming out. And the doctor’s head was still bleeding, too. What the hell was he going to do now?
“I’m sorry,” he said, tears clouding his eyes. “I’m so sorry. . . .”
The man needed a doctor. Unfortunately, the only one in Santa Rios wanted him dead. And the second Gabrio’s brother found out what he’d done . . .
Then he remembered Adam’s last words: Go to Sera. She’ll help you. Just go to Sera—
Right now, she was the only person on this earth that he thought he just might be able to trust.
For the past two days, Serafina Cordero had sat in the upstairs bedroom of her rambling farmhouse, sleeping only when she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She felt like crying, but she didn’t have a tear inside her left to shed.
Adam was dead.
She leaned back in the rocking chair where she sat, dropping her head against it and closing her eyes. She’d always thought of herself as a strong, resilient person who could take whatever life threw at her. But not this. Not this.
During the two years Adam had come to Santa Rios to volunteer at the clinic, their interaction—long conversations, shared moments of laughter, eyes meeting in prolonged glances—had slowly become as intimate as if they were lovers. But whenever it looked as if their relationship might move toward a physical acknowledgment, he’d kept her at arm’s length. Yes, she’d been younger than him. At twenty-seven, much younger. And the death of his wife only three years before had surely affected the way he felt about other women. But the connection between them had been so strong and so real that she knew he had to feel it, too. He had to feel how much she loved him.
But still he’d left her.
It had crushed her when Adam told her he was moving to Chicago and wouldn’t be back. But even though he would have been hundreds of miles away, she could have had hope. She could have hoped that somewhere down the road their lives would intersect again and she’d have the future with him she’d always dreamed of.
But now he was gone forever.
She looked out the window to
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