Chapter 2
671 Words
Chapter TwoHector had remembered Alejandra Rosa Martinez as a total knock-out, but that was nothing compared to what he’d found up on the roof.
He’d come back to his shithole of a hometown for a mission, not looking for her. Not really. In five years his life had totally changed—no reason to assume that hers had stayed the same. Or that she’d be real interested in seeing him. But a few questions about her had led him to the plaza, just as all hell had broken loose.
He hadn’t expected to walk into a gunfight, though four years in the US Rangers and another year as a Delta Force operator had let him see the patterns quickly. There was an obvious hole in the battle running from door to door.
The policia were wisely hanging back a couple blocks and waiting it out—though they needed a real lesson about how bullets skipped along concrete walls and he hoped they didn’t catch one. It was the reason that war zone photos always showed the US military walking up the center of a street rather than hugging the buildings.
But whatever sides were fighting around the plaza and up on the low roofs, the lack of action from the best vantage point spoke volumes. Somebody held the high ground, which meant they were defending it, but there was no sign they were using it. Someone smart—maybe like Alejandra. He got up to the second story inside the building, leaving only a few broken bones behind him. Not a one of them understood that it would hurt less if they’d just let go of their g*n when he was ripping it out of their hands.
At a rear, second-story window, he’d managed to reach up high enough to loop his rifle’s sling over a protruding outside timber and used his rifle as a ladder to haul himself onto the roof. There he’d been confronted by one of the finest asses he’d ever seen.
How Alejandra had gotten even better looking in the years he’d been gone, he’d never know. It shouldn’t be possible, but it was true.
“You done here?” he nodded toward the plaza.
“s**t, you think?” her sarcastic tongue hadn’t changed one bit.
“Good. Got a job I could use some help on.”
“You show up out of the blue after five years and you suddenly need help from me? Hector, you’re an asshole. You know that, right?”
“Sure.”
She snarled at him.
“Never argue with a lady when she’s right,” he threw one of her favorite sayings back in her face.
Her growl went deep and feline, but when he belly-crawled to the roof access, she followed.
He unsnapped the latch without making a sound. She had her rifle ready to aim down when he opened the hatch. With a shake of his head, he warned her off.
He flipped the release and threw the hatch wide.
They both rolled away from it. Moments later, a half dozen wild shots cut upward through the hatch. One shooter. Off center to the right.
He aimed through the roof itself and laid down a short line of fire. Crawling across it earlier, it was clear that it wasn’t much of a roof. The rounds punched through easily.
Alejandra did the same from the other side and her angle looked good.
Hector rolled back and dove through.
The shooter was down.
Alejandra dropped in beside him, so close it was hard not to just grab her. With a toe of her boot, she kicked the shooter over. He’d been hit both front and back. She’d always been good, but somewhere along the way, she’d gotten even better.
“Alvarado’s eldest. They were both really pissed when I wouldn’t marry him. His dad, Miguel, is not going to be happy about this.” She nudged a boot against him again, hard to believe he was finally dead.
“Good,” Hector offered her a smile. “You can tell Miguel yourself when he finds you in his bed tonight.”
“That’s part of your plan for…whatever?”
It wasn’t, but he’d forgotten how much fun it was to tease her. For a second he thought she might try aiming her rifle at him again and he was ready for that.
Instead she kicked him in the shins. Hard.
- Writer
