Finn’s jaw was so tight, his teeth creaked against each other. How many men hid behind that black SUV?

He gave up trying to get a clear shot of Mr. Sombrero, and instead maneuvered around the back of their rented SUV. He was loathe to let Cora out of his sight but after she’d flung herself to the ground, there’d been precious little of her to see, anyway.

When he came around the back, he had a better view of the sombrero.

He took aim, bracing himself against the SUV so he could get a steady hand leaning as he was.

Before he could squeeze off a round, the sound of an approaching vehicle drew his attention. He stiffened, but his moment’s distraction had given Mr. Sombrero enough time to spot him and move out of his line of sight.

Lars shot off a round, and Mr. Sombrero fell. Cora fired toward the back of the black SUV, and then scrambled to her feet as she shot off another round. The shot went wild of course, and a man appeared from behind the SUV, face set in a rictus snarl and seemingly oblivious to anyone else.

Finn took him in the side of the head.

He collapsed, but another man stepped out from behind the SUV and shot at Cora. She was scrambling away, so the shot didn’t land, but she was going in the wrong fucking direction.

Because she was leading them away from him and Lars.

He wanted to scream at her that she was a fucking idiot. That they could easily deal with this situation…but not if he lost sight of her.

For several heart-wrenching seconds, nothing happened. All he could hear was the sound of Cora’s slowly fading footsteps as she ran helter-skelter through the brush.

No sounds of pursuit. Because they were taking aim? No, he doubted they had orders to kill her. They would want her alive.

Finn glanced to the side. Lars was on his feet, his weapon aimed to the back of the black SUV where all the dead bodies had been piling up.

Cora came walking back, gun aimed to the back of the black SUV. So there was still someone there. Someone waiting. Were they injured? Unarmed? Why hadn’t they shot at her yet?

“Why the fuck isn’t she shooting?” Lars hissed at Finn. He stalked slowly closer to Finn without taking his aim away from the back of the black SUV.

“Fuck knows,” Finn muttered. He knew a handful of Spanish phrases, but none of what Cora was spouting.

“Por favor,” Cora called out. “Ande despacio lejos del coche. Tire su arma.” She came to stand a few feet from Lars.

A man—another Mexican from his dark skin and eyes—surged around the truck. He wasn’t armed, but he ducked and lifted a stray gun from the ground. Aimed it straight at Cora, and then stopped.

Three pistols gaped at him. Cora’s, Lars’s, his. The man hesitated, and then did a double-take at Cora.

“Señorita Rivera!” The man dropped his gun, hoisting his hands in surrender. Then he looked at Lars and Finn. “You bring Eleodora!”

Lars must have nodded, because the man broke into a relieved smile. “I Miguel. Sicario. I come take Eleodora.”

“Yeah? That’s convenient,” Lars muttered.

“¿Que?” The man frowned, looking at Cora with pleading eyes.

“¿Por qué deberíamos confiar en usted?” Cora said, making no sense to Finn.

The man shrugged. “Yo trabajo para El Guapo.”

“He says he works for Javier,” Cora said, glancing at Finn.

“Tell him to prove it,” Finn said.

“¡Pruébalo!” Cora yelled.

Miguel shrugged again, and then slowly lowered one of his hands and lifted the sleeve of his sweat-stained shirt. Cora started toward him, but Lars barked out, “Stay back,” and hurried forward. She stepped aside, giving him a frown.

Lars inspected the man’s arm. “It’s a tattoo. Skull and roses. Says ‘san-ger por san-ger’ on it. That mean something to you?” He looked at Cora over his shoulder.

“Blood for blood,” Cora murmured. “It’s El Calacas Vivo’s creed.”

“El Calacas Vivo!” Miguel agreed happily. “Si, si. Sangre por sangre. These men—” Miguel indicated the dead bodies “—They find me here. Tie up. Say they wait for Eleodora and take her to El Lobo.”

“Who’s El Lobo?” Lars asked.

Cora gave her head a small shake. “Don’t know.”

“What does it mean?”

“Let him take me to Javier.”

“Si, si. We go to El Guapo,” Miguel said.

Cora shoved her Taurus in the small of her back, briefly exposing a strip of skin. Finn glanced at Lars, and then back at Miguel.

“We’re coming with you.”

“No, señor,” Miguel said. “No strangers. Don Javier’s house a secret.”

“I don’t even think my father’s been there,” Cora said, but with an expression that made it clear she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there either.

“I told you I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re in front of your uncle,” Finn said to Cora.

“Milo, we’ve done our bit. Our contract—” Lars began, but Finn cut him off.

“Fuck the contract. My mission is, and always has been, to make sure Cora is safe. I’m not handing her off to some guy whose only proof that he’s on her side is some ink.”

“It’s a fucking tattoo,” Lars said, but he didn’t argue past that.

Cora watched their exchange without expression, and then went to the black SUV and got in the back, giving Finn a long, considering look before closing the door behind her. Finn began dragging the bodies off the road and hiding them behind a low, grass-covered rise. Seconds later, Lars joined him to clear the road.

Lars gave him a wary glance as he climbed into their rental with Miguel in the back.

“I wonder what her uncle’s going to think when you refuse to leave?” Lars mused, leaning out the window and shading his eyes as he stared at Finn. “Think he’ll let you move in too?”

Finn snorted, but didn’t dignify Lar’s question with a response. Lars pulled away, leaving him in a cloud of dust as he walked to the black SUV and climbed in.

The door slammed behind him, and he tightened his hands around the steering wheel until they creaked. Cora gave him a quick glance before turning to look out the window.

He didn’t care what any of them thought. This incident just proved she wouldn’t be safe until she was inside her uncle’s compound. And fuck them if it was supposed to be a secret; he knew all about secrets and how to keep them.