Page 97 of Lethal Vengeance

Waking in a sweat, I look out the window and see the first hint of sun. Relieved, I check the phone. Six-thirty a.m. Three hours of sleep. A little less than average. When I move to get up, Cruz instantly wakes.

“I’m going for a quick run. Go back to sleep,” I tell him.

He frowns and rubs a hand down his face. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty,” I reply.

After a few stretches to work out the kinks from the car ride, I get dressed in my running gear and bend down to give him a kiss.

“Stay,” he urges.

I slip from his grasp and head out. It’s been almost a week since my last run.

My body aches in places I didn’t know had muscles, and the first mile is painful. Eventually, my body loosens, and my feet hit their rhythmic stride. Several people give me strange looks when I pass them, but I ignore it.

A few blocks from their house, I hit a gate. Backing up, I take a side road and keep running. I didn’t realize we were in a secluded neighborhood, but as I look around at the houses, they all seem pretty luxurious.

It didn’t take me long to transition from Texas to Mexico. Both felt almost the same to me. This neighborhood feels completely foreign and out of my element.

My usual five-mile run is cut short by the pain. Three-point-six miles. It’s all I had in me today. I tap on my phone to find the pin I dropped and walk back to their house.

Three surly men greet me when I return.

“What happened?” I ask Zane.

He glares at Sterling. “Someone forgot to give you the code to the alarm. It went off when you left.”

I wince. “Sorry. I’m going to grab some water, then get a shower. Why don’t you text me the code?”

In the kitchen, I quietly open and close cabinets until I find the glasses and get some water from the built-in dispenser on the refrigerator door. After chugging it down, I head up to my room.

Once upstairs, I get a shower and dress. With my laptop in hand, I head back downstairs. It’s empty except for Sterling… and Gabriel, who’s watching cartoons and eating a kids’ cereal bar.

“What do you want him to call you?” Sterling murmurs.

“Quinn,” I reply, my eyes glued to the little boy.

“Not aunt or tía?” he asks, carefully studying me. “Why not?”

“Because he’s old enough to remember me. What’s going to happen if I find him a good home and he remembers his aunt gave him up?” I ask him.

Anger sparks in his green eyes. “Why would you even consider giving him up? He’s the only blood family you have left.”

My own anger rises. “Are you going to explain to him how his beloved t-i-o killed his m-a-m-a? And his aunt killed his p-a-p-a and t-i-o? I don’t want him to carry that burden. It’s not right.”

Sterling opens his mouth to say something else, but Gabriel interrupts him.

He points his little finger at me. “Hurt.”

Sterling pulls him into his side. “Yes, she’s hurt. Do you want to kiss it better?”

Gabriel walks over to me, and I bend to get his wet kiss on my hurt cheek.

“Thank you,” I tell him softly.

“Better,” he confirms with a nod. “Caroline coming?”

“Who’s Caroline?” I ask him, a smile on my face.