Her words were cut off as the tin door slammed open, the door rattling echoingly against the tin wall.
Gloria uttered a stifled shriek as she grasped at Cora. Cora tried to hold onto her mother while taking a surprised step back.
“Well, well, well,” Carlos Vilas said, stroking his mustache, “I can’t say I’m surprised at all to see this.”
Cora was stunned. She hadn’t seen Carlos in years. And as far as she could see in the dim light, the years had not been kind to him. His hair was now a dingy gray instead of the gleaming black it had been years ago. His mustache, once thick and greasy, was now gray and limp. He was still just as rotund as he had always been but there was a hollowness in his cheeks that spoke of weight loss from stress.
“I knew the kitten would eventually come back to her mama pussy,” Carlos said sneeringly. He stepped into the room, letting the tin door swing close behind him. Before the door shut, Cora saw two men standing guard outside. Regardless of how many men Carlos must’ve cut, he still had enough for his usual protection detail.
“Wh-What are you talking about, Carlos?” Cora said, her throat tightening in fear. She remembered how possessive Carlos was and she knew he couldn’t be pleased about finding his longtime girlfriend about to abandon him.
Carlos stood, regarding both women with a cool, calm gaze that still had a tinge of manic. “Eventually the dealer needs to meet with her supplier, no, chica?” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Gloria immediately began crying. “Please, Carlos, please,” she sobbed brokenly. “Don’t hurt her. I swear I was robbed.”
Carlos snapped. He lunged forward and grabbed Gloria by her hair, making the woman shriek in pain. “You lying puta bitch! You think I’m stupid? You think I’m a fool?” he nearly screamed. “I know you’ve been stealing! You set up your own trade in America, haven’t you, you bitch?”
Cora grabbed at Carlos’s arms, trying to free her mom. “Carlos, let her go! Let her go!” The man was surprisingly strong at his age. She could feel the steely tendons of his arms as he fisted Gloria’s hair, shaking her with a roughness that made her teeth clack.
“Stop!” Cora screamed. With enormous strength, Carlos swung his right hand out, backhanding Cora across her face. She flew across the room. A ringing echoed in her ears as she tried to regain her senses. She tried to lift her head and felt immediate pain shoot down her neck and back. Was her neck broken?
Taking in a deep breath, Cora tried again. This time, she was able to raise her head. Spots swam across her vision and she tasted the iron tinge of blood in her mouth. Through her spotty vision, she saw Carlos’s form walk towards her.
“So your mama’s been giving you my product to sell in the US, huh?” he demanded. His gray hair was now mussed and standing on edge, making him look even wilder or more manic. “She’s been giving you my quality goods so you and she could turn a profit behind my back, huh? You little bitch!” Cora gasped as Carlos’s foot made even contact with her belly. “You stealing little bitch!”
Cora tried to deny his accusations. That was insane, she wanted to say. She had never touched drugs in her life, let alone Carlos’s drugs. She wanted to tell him that Gloria had legitimately been robbed. But all she could do was have her mouth open and close futilely like a dying fish as she fought for air to come into her lungs.
“Carlos!” Gloria shrieked. “I swear I was robbed! I swear it!”
Carlos stood over Cora’s fetal form. Heaving a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back into place. “You think I believe some puta bitch like you? It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said, his voice becoming calm. “I know you’ve been cheating me for years now. And Carlos Vilas doesn’t keep cheaters in his life.”
Cora saw the flash of metal against Carlos’s hand.
“Oh please,” Gloria sobbed, begging.
Carlos held the gun loosely in his hand as he regarded the two women. “What will be worse, Gloria? Going first or watching your child die first?” Suddenly his fist gripped Cora’s shirt and pulled her up. Turning her around, he held her against him, her back to his chest.
Cora’s throat was completely dry. This hardly seemed real. Still reeling from the pain of the kick, she felt as if she were in some kind of horribly realistic nightmare. Even Carlos’s arm across her neck didn’t seem real. She heard Gloria’s crying as if through a tunnel.
Until she heard the gun’s hammer click.
“I think the mama pussy should watch,” Carlos murmured almost seductively into her ear.
Cora’s heart raced. She wanted to close her eyes and wake up in her bed in New York. How could this be real? She had always feared she would die in her shack in Mexico and now it was about to become a reality.
If that was the case, then she would do everything she could to save herself. She would die trying. She had come too far to let it all end in one dismal gunshot. As she took in a deep breath to scream for help as loud as she could, the tin door slammed open again.
At first, all Cora saw were the two crumpled figures on the ground outside the doorway. Carlos’s guards. What had happened to them?
As Cora slowly looked up, she saw Julian standing in the doorway, large gun held aloft, his face edged in anger and focus.
“Let her go.”
Thirteen
This definitely was a dream now.
There was no way Julian Benedict was standing in front of her, in Mexico, with a gun.
But no matter how many times she blinked, Julian stood there just as solidly as ever.
His face was cut with a restrained anger. He held his gun with a steady arm as he kept his focus on Carlos. Julian seemed to fill the entire shack with his presence. His tall, broad body encompassed every inch of the room and feeling his presence, Cora breathed in a steady breath.
But any trace of calmness was wiped away from her being when she saw Carlos raise his own steady arm, pointing his gun at Julian. “Who are you?” he demanded. “American?”
Julian didn’t move. He just kept his gun pointed straight at his target. “Let her go,” he said with quiet emphasis that spoke volumes of his power.
Cora couldn’t see his face but she could feel Carlos’s confusion over this stranger’s entrance. But he tightened his grip across her neck, nearly choking her in the process.
“You’re American,” Carlos said, this time as a statement. “Do you know who I am?”
“I don't give a fuck who you are,” Julian said, his voice sharp enough to make one bleed. “Drop the gun and let her go.”
Carlos laughed. “You don’t give a fuck who I am? Well you should, you really should. Because I have this girl’s life between my two hands.” Cora felt the cold touch of metal against her temple, making her blood run cold.
Gloria shrieked and Julian tightened his hold on his gun. Cora could see the tension strung through his body.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Julian nearly growled.
“Not before I kill her,” Carlos said, a leering smile crossing his haggard face.
A heavy tension hung in the air as the two men sized each other up. Cora looked at Julian, willing him to catch her gaze.
He seemed unable to tear his gaze away from Carlos but he could feel her pull and looked. Cora didn’t want him to die in a tin shack in Mexico. She didn’t want his life to be tainted by her horrible past. She just wanted—had always wanted—to love him. And if the time she had to love him was only mere seconds, she wanted to embrace each one to the fullest.
Hoping she could tell him to run and find safety through her eyes alone, she held her tears back as she looked at the only man she had ever loved and mouthed the words she had never thought she would say in her life, “I love you.”
A gun fired, the shot ringing through the desert night.
The
Billionaire’s Step
Part Three
One
Oh god, please. Oh god, please. Oh god, please. Ohgodpleaseohg
odpleaseohgodplease.
Julian clutched Cora’s limp body to him as he ran out of the car towards the gray and dimly lit hospital. He had hardly been able to drive straight knowing Cora was sprawled in he backseat, bleeding profusely. Her heart-shaped face that could convey sympathy, love, bravery with extraordinary honesty was quickly turning an ashen gray that made Julian’s stomach turn with fear.
The small square shaped hospital was the only medical building for miles and although Julian wanted nothing more than the absolute best care for Cora, at the moment, all he had was this square building.
He ran into the lobby, vaguely aware of Gloria limping behind him. She had thrown herself into his SUV just as he was wheeling away with Cora. He hardly had thought to bring her with him or even care if she had come along. But come along she had.
“Señor! Señor!” a small nurse called out from behind him.
Julian whipped around and saw the nurse running towards him. Her body immediately straightened when she caught sight of his chest soaked in blood and the limp girl in his arms. But no panicked alarm took over. This was a nurse who was used to seeing such blatant and gruesome violence on a regular basis.
“Please help! Help her!” Julian cried out, his deep voice reverberating against the dimly lit walls. So berserk with worry and adrenaline, he could hardly remember how to ask for help in Spanish.
But the nurse clearly understood how dire the situation was. She turned her head down one hallway and called out for a gurney. Brushing back Cora’s short hair, matted down by the blood pouring from the side of her head, the nurse revealed the girl’s pale gray face. Blue veins stood out clearly against her translucent skin, the massive blood loss already having pulled out most of her color and life.
The gurney arrived but Julian couldn’t take his eyes off the nurse.
Her eyes were steady but her hand immediately went to the rosary tucked underneath her green scrubs. “Vaya con Dios,” she whispered.
Go with God.
Julian felt the hospital echo with the sound of his heartbreak.
“She’s so young,” Gloria said quietly, almost to herself. “They always say when you have youth on your side, you can survive anything.”
Julian could hardly hear her.
He sat on the small grated metal bench, chin pressed against his fists, as he leaned forward on his knees. Cora had immediately been whisked away into the OR.
After having held Cora so closely to him, his arms felt light and empty. He had instinctively followed the gurney but had been stopped outside the swinging doors of the operating room. The small nurse had firmly sat him down on the single bench that lined the hallway, her dark eyes warm with sympathy and pity. It was clear she had no expectations for survival. If Julian didn’t feel so numb, he would feel rage towards her quick acceptance for Cora’s fate.
Gloria had quietly dropped to the bench, a look of stunned surprise on her blood-splattered face.
Instead of raging or arguing his insistence of Cora’s chances for survival, Julian sat on the bench.
And he prayed.
Two
“I love you.”
Julian had watched almost in slow motion as Cora’s lips had formed the words he had waited so long for her to say. But this wasn’t how he had wanted her to say it. He had wanted her to say those words as an oath, as a promise for a lifetime of togetherness.
Instead she was saying it now as goodbye.
Julian felt the muscles in his neck clench. Like hell it’ll be.
He saw the change of light in Carlos’s eyes. He had to act first before he could let this piece of shit press his advantage. Because advantage he certainly had. With his gun pressed hard against Cora’s temple, there was no way she could survive such a shot.
Aiming carefully at right above his elbow, Julian pulled the trigger, letting loose all his hopes with the flying bullet.
As he had hoped, the shot had surprised Carlos, who had been expecting a more fatal shot. He had cried out in anger as the angle of Julian’s bullet had jerked his arm, pulling the barrel away from Cora.
But the drug lord had more control over his body than Julian had given him credit for. Before his arm had collapsed uselessly to his side, he had squeezed his trigger.
Initially, it looked like the bullet had just barely missed Cora. She had even cried out in warning, “Julian!”
But he didn’t need any warning for his safety. As she fell forward, all Julian could think was: this was his chance! Carlos’s body was completely open. And with his right arm hanging uselessly by his side with blood flowing freely, Julian knew he’d never have a better shot.
With absolutely no hesitation or regret, Julian fired two sure shots into Carlos’s chest. Before the man hit the ground, Julian knew he was dead.
And good fucking riddance, you hateful fucker.
Julian let loose the breath that he had been holding.
She was free. Cora would never have to be afraid of the looming shadows of her past. Carlos was the only thing that had kept her from moving forward and now he was a dead pile on the floor with no power over her future.
But all the air soon evaporated from his lungs when he looked down and caught sight of Cora.
Blood was pooling into a black halo around her head while her body lay limp on the dirty shack floor.
Cora hadn’t called out his name in warning. She had called out to him in need.
Gloria screamed.
“Land it wherever. I don’t give a fuck!” Julian snapped into his cellphone.
He looked out the window of the hospital hallway. Cora had made it out of surgery an hour ago and now Julian had to act fast. He wanted to get her to a bigger hospital with more resources to care for her. The problem was the area he was in was too rural even for pick up.
The helicopter pilot had said he would arrive in about twenty more minutes. But there was no designated helipad in such a small remote hospital and the pilot wasn’t sure if the building was structurally sound enough to land on. Julian had sighed in frustrated anger. There was plenty of open space even in the middle of the road and even right in front of the tiny hospital. And as far as Julian was concerned, he could care less where the helicopter landed just so long as it landed and landed fast.
The hospital in Maraño, the nearest sizeable city, was standing at ready for their arrival. Tapping the phone against his thigh, he quickly decided against calling the other hospital in Mexico City he had been in contact with. It was too far and he wasn’t sure Cora could make it.
After another frustrated sigh of helplessness, Julian quickly strode back into the tiny hospital room.
Cora looked so small in the simple yet clean hospital bed.
Her face looked even smaller with the turban of bandages wrapped around her head. Seeing her still form and the steady light beep of the heart monitor made all of Julian’s muscles tighten and loosen at the same time. He felt helpless yet also frustrated and angry. He wanted to bound out of the hospital and run to Maraño with Cora in his arms. But he also wanted to slide into the bed, hold this delicate woman near him, and just feel her body’s warmth against his.
Sitting in the only chair in the room, Julian scooted closer to the bed. He had literally been traveling nonstop since he had discovered Cora’s disappearance. Once arriving in Mexico, it had been an easy matter of picking up a gun but a much more difficult matter of finding a driver brave enough to take him where he needed to go.
And all the while, Julian’s heart had been pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs. He worried that he would be too late. God, let her be alright. Let her be alright, Julian had chanted throughout the journey. Images of her short bob and flashing smile would flitter in and out of his mind. Just you wait, little girl, Julian would grit his teeth. You are under my protection now. No more running off for you.
Gently, Julian took Cora’s limp hand. Although she was warmer than she had been back in the shack, her fingertips still felt cool to the touch. Her p
ulse was slow and thready. Knowing how close he had been to losing her, knowing how close he was to losing her, Julian lost his restraint.
He gripped her hand tightly as he pressed his forehead against their clasped palms. “Don’t you dare leave me,” he whispered fiercely. He thought about how sweet she had tasted in Paris. He remembered her gentle yet passionate touch. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life, Cora. You don’t get to leave me now.”
The bullet had come in at an angle. It had caused a flesh wound which had bled profusely. The impact of the bullet had fractured her skull and had caused some swelling in the brain. Even though Julian’s Spanish wasn’t perfect, he knew coma translated across both English and Spanish and his heart clenched to hear the word.
He held her hand tighter than he knew he should. Julian felt like if he held her tightly enough, he could somehow infuse his own strength into her. But no matter how tightly or for how long he held her hand, her fingertips remained cold and her pulse slow. Julian could smell the tang of her dried blood on his shirt.
He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there when a small hand gently tapped his shoulder. He jerked awake and saw the small nurse standing behind him.
“The helicopter is here,” she said.
Julian nodded quickly, trying to gather his wits. When had he last slept? It had to have been over 48 hours ago. Letting go of Cora’s hand, Julian made space for the nurses to strap Cora into a gurney so she could be airlifted to Maraño.
Once Cora was secured, the team gently but quickly moved out of the room and out into the street where a small helicopter was waiting. Julian began to follow them out of the room when he turned back around to catch sight of the nurse.
He expected, perhaps hoped, the nurse would give him an encouraging smile and nod her hopefulness for Cora’s recovery. After all, even though Cora had just lost a shit ton of blood and had had her head scraped open, she was still alive and breathing, wasn’t she?
The Billionaire's Step - Complete Series (Forbidden Billionaire Stepbrother Romance) Page 9
