Page 110 of Death

“When?” I ask.

“Tomorrow morning at ten.”

“I’ll make sure he’s there,” I assure her.

“Thanks, Doc,” Santiago says while he climbs to his feet. “Let’s call it a night, guys.”

Samuel leaves with Dr. Pires, but when Pedro walks toward the front door, Santiago says, “Pedro.” He waits for his second-in-command to look at him. “I’ll always take a bullet for you. It’s my job to protect you, too, because I can’t lose you.”

The anger eases from Pedro’s face. “How about we just don’t get shot?”

Santiago smiles at him. “Sounds good.”

Pedro leaves, pulling the door shut behind him, so I grab hold of Santiago’s hand and drag him to our bedroom.

“I just want to shower,mi amor.”

I let go of his hand, and going into the bathroom, I switch on the faucets before I turn around and undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Are you angry with me?” he asks, his tone worried.

My gaze lifts to his. “No, but I’m not happy either.” I carefully push the fabric off his shoulders. I take off his pants and boots, and once I have him naked, I say, “Get in the shower.”

I quickly take off my own clothes while Santiago steps beneath the spray, then I join him. I wash his body, and every drop of blood that blends with the water is a blow to my heart.

I could’ve lost him today.

My chin quivers, and of course, the man notices. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his chest, and I mutter, “Don’t get the bandage wet.”

“Fuck the bandage.”

I tilt my head back, and our eyes connect. “I can’t lose you.” A tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. “There’s no me without you.”

He brings his hands to my cheeks, his expression dead serious as he says, “You won’t lose me.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my trembling lips. “I’ve been doing this for over twenty years, and today was the first time I got shot.”

“Just be more careful. Please.”

Santiago nods. “I promise. Okay?” When I nod, he asks, “So we’re good?”

“Yes.”

When he lowers his head again, I push up on my toes, kissing him with every ounce of love I feel for him.

Chapter 32

SANTIAGO

I sit on the foot of the bed and stare at the single word showing on the little screen. Nearing my forties, I was worried I’d never see it.

Pregnant.

“Baby?” Ciara whispers as she takes a seat beside me. “Are you okay?”

My vision blurs with tears, and I suck in a shuddering breath, then I move off the bed and kneel in front of the woman I’m marrying today.

She’s been feeling sick, and we got a pregnancy test this morning. I knew there was a good chance, but I didn’t believe it would actually happen.

I open my mouth, but no words come out, so I just wrap my arms around her and press my face into her stomach.