Page 66 of Death

She’s mine. She just has to be.

“We’re at the harbor,” Pedro says.

Having lost track of time, it feels like I come out of a daze as I open my eyes and glance out the window. Keeping an arm around Ciara, I shove the door open. As I climb out, I place my arms beneath her back and knees and carry her toward the yacht.

She lifts her head and glances around. “I can walk.”

“Let me carry you,” I say, not ready to let go of her yet.

She rests her cheek against my chest, and when I press a kiss to her forehead, the corner of her mouth lifts slightly.

I jump onto the yacht and head to the seating area, where I sit down. Pulling my arm from beneath her knees, I cup her cheek while tilting my head so I can see her face. “Feeling better?”

She nods, but her body tenses as all my men board the yacht. When Eladio is dragged below deck, I ask Ciara, “Can I leave you with Pedro for a while? I just want to check on one of my men.”

Pedro tips his head in the direction of the controls. “I’ll show you how to steer a boat.”

She climbs off my lap, and keeping a safe distance between her and Pedro, she follows him.

I quickly get up and hurry to the room where Samuel has Eladio lying down on a bed.

“How are you holding up?” I ask.

“Fine,” he grinds the word out when Samuel inspects the wound in his side.

Miguel, one of my other men, brings a first aid kit, and while Samuel gets everything ready to extract the bullet, I move to the side of the bed.

Eladio’s only twenty-two, and even though he’s trying to hide it, I can see he’s in a lot of pain. He was thirteen when I found him, and he’s only been a guard for a year. I practically raised him and hate seeing him in pain.

Samuel quickly gives him an injection, and I say, “You’ll feel better soon.” I pat his forearm. “Just hang in there.”

Eladio grabs hold of my hand and grips it tightly, his eyes locked on my face. I lean over him and brace my other hand beside his head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him. Fear tightens his features, and I say, “You’re doing well. When we get to the island, you can take two weeks off and get some rest. Okay?”

He nods shakily, but then his grip on my hand tightens, and he clenches his jaw, a groan tearing from him.

I glance at his side and see Samuel’s digging for the bullet, then meet Eladio’s scared gaze.

“Almost done.” I move my hand from the pillow to his forehead to wipe off the sweat, then tell Miguel, who’s standing by the foot of the bed, “Get me a washcloth and cold water.”

When Miguel returns, I say, “Squeeze all the water out of the cloth.” He carries out the order and passes it to me. I wipe Eladio’s face, then pass the cloth back to Miguel. “Rinse it out.”

Eladio’s grip on my hand becomes painful as his body strains.

“Got it!” Samuel exclaims.

Eladio gasps through the pain, his eyes feverishly on me.

“You did so well,” I praise him. “I’m proud of you.”

A tear rolls from his eye, and his grip on my hand begins to ease. I brush my hand over his hair. “Sleep, Eladio.”

His eyes drift shut, and I wait a moment before I pull my hand out of his. Looking at Samuel, who’s stitching up the wound, I say, “We need better pain meds. That shit didn’t help at all.”

“I’ll check with Dr. Antonio once we’re on the island.”

“You’ll stay with him?” I ask.