Page 25 of Corrupted By the Shadow King (Hope Runs Deep #3)

Nikki

E l Lobo? The wolf? Turning my head to the left and right, I’m searching for a large animal, which is crazy because why the fuck would some sort of wild animal be running around a hospital in the middle of San Antonio?

Who is he talking to? Why did Alex jump in front of me like danger lurked just outside the doors?

“Alex? What’s going on?” I ask.

“Alex? How quaint,” the other man sneers. “Come to America and decide to change your name? Did you drop your men, too? Kill them all like you did my uncle, you worthless coward?”

Change his name? Kill? What the hell is going on?! I’m confused and anxious. Nothing makes sense. I am breathing hard, and my heart rate is accelerating. My body becomes flushed and hot, and I can feel the sweat pooling in my palms.

All of my worries and concerns about who or what Alex is rush back to me. I’d suppressed them and pushed them so far down, I didn’t think they would ever find their way to the surface again.

“You have no idea what you are talking about, vato . Your uncle picked up my guns, pointed them at me first…I was simply defending myself.” His words sound casual, and he almost seems at ease or bored, but I can practically feel the waves of anger radiating off him.

I don’t know what is going on. Guns. Defending. What the fuck?

“You should have died that day!” the stranger says, his voice low and deep.

“As you can see, I’m not dead. El Diablo decided he wasn’t ready for me yet.”

I try to peek around Alex, but he is too broad and tall to do it without drawing too much attention to myself.

Suddenly, Alex’s body shifts to the left.

Taking the opportunity, I shift right and peek at the other man.

He is tall, about the same height as Alex, with dark skin and eyes that are almost black.

His muscles protrude and pull his t-shirt tight against his chest and arms. He looks familiar, but I can’t recall from where.

He smirks when he sees me. “Have you told her who you are? Leader of the Luna Cartel, El Lobo. Have you told her how many people you have killed, including my own uncle? Emiliano has taken up the reins and stepped into his father’s shoes.

He’s looking for you. You didn’t think you would get rid of us so easily, did you? ”

Alex stiffens. “No, Mateo. I knew you would return. I had hoped the next El Fuego would be someone who had a brain and could think for himself, but you sorely disappointed me. Emilliano? Really? He is more of a hothead and greedier than his father.”

“Watch how you talk about my cousin!”

My head is racing as I listen to these two men argue.

Leader of a cartel? Alex? And he’s killed people?

My Alex? Yes, he was shot, and I tried time and time again not to think about why, but the questions always crept in.

When they did, I shoved them down deep again.

I’m frozen, my heart pounding in my ears.

I can’t breathe. Can’t think straight. My Alex is a murderer? A cartel leader?

I have to get out of here.

“I only speak the truth!”

Darting around Alex and Mateo, I run to my car, ignoring Alex’s shout, telling me to stop. I need to leave. I have to get to my car and drive away. He lied to me. He is nothing I thought he was. Or maybe it is simply that I didn’t want to see it.

I get in my car, turn it on, and pull out without buckling my seatbelt, almost hitting another car on my way out.

Driving out of the parking garage, I pretend I don’t see the heartbreak and disappointment on his face.

I pretend I don’t see him because I’m afraid that if I acknowledge him, I will break down here and now, and I won’t allow myself to do that.

When I get home, I run inside my apartment, slam the door shut, and lock it. I’m heartbroken. I had a whole picture of whom Alex really is built inside my head and my heart, and in a five-minute confrontation, the foundation has been ripped away, and the house crumpled to the ground.

The bad thing is, I still want him. And if I’m being completely honest, I love him.

I love Alex.

But he never existed. Not really. And that’s the part that hurts the most because I wish I could go back thirty minutes or an hour and change everything. I wish I could go back to that naive woman and shield her from the ugliness that is coming her way.

I cry for myself, for the love we shared, and for the future that can no longer be.

At some point, he knocks on my door, and I pretend I don’t hear him. He leaves without much of a fight, and I cry again.