Gabe grunts as he sits up in the bed. I can see the strain on his face when he shifts and I feel like shit for having him shot. But I can't let this get fucked up.

"Shit, ese. I feel like hell," he says, reaching for the glass of water by the bed.

"Yeah..."

"I trust you can do this." He looks at me with a sincerity I've not seen from many people in my life.

I nod just as there's a knock on the door. The door slowly swings open and Gabe's men file into the room, each with guns and strings of bullets strapped across their chest. It looks like we are going into a fucking zombie apocalypse. Shit.

"You know what you are doing," Gabe says to them. "Nothing has changed. You bomb your targets. He glances at a guy to my right. "And Daniel, you take your men with Jude to the warehouse. Protect him as if he were me. This," Gabe reaches over and places his hand on my shoulder, eyeing them all, "is who you follow today." He locks eyes with me and nods. "You take down the Sinaloa shitheads, ese. For your daughter, for my sister." His attention goes back to his men. "Do not question this gringo, si?"

They nod.

“Alright, go then,” he says, and the men leave the room like a small army.

This is organized mass destruction. I'm taking out the leaders and these men are taking out what’s left. Building by building. Business by business. By the time we're done, there will be nothing left of the Sinaloa cartel.

He takes a heavy breath as a soft smile works over his lips. "Be careful, ese, and I will see you later."

We shake hands and I leave the room knowing I will never see Gabriel Estrada again.

***break***

The desert is so fucking desolate and depressing. I watch the red sands whir past the windows. Never in a million years did I think I would end up here. In cartel land, trying to save my little girl. This is where it all ends, and the stress bearing down on me at this very moment is suffocating as shit.

Tor's sitting next to me, her small hand in mine. We've barely said a word to each other on the long drive through the desert. What can you say when you know you are going somewhere to die? I've spent the last half hour playing out moments of my life like a movie. I guess trying to hold onto those things one last time because who really knows what awaits you in death? If heaven and hell are real things, I sure as shit know where I'm going.

The driver pulls up to the warehouse, the rusted metal door still bolted. Four black Hummers sit to the side of the building right next to the wire fencing. The doors open and men climb out, only two of them with visible guns, and Tor's hold on my hand tightens. "For Cayla," she whispers.

"Yes, for Cayla," I say and throw open the door. A handful of Gabe's men get out of the car behind us and follow me. I feel bad they’re going to die with us, but it was unavoidable. I couldn't exactly turn up with just Tor. We wouldn’t even make it out of the car.

A man wearing a fitted suit steps forward. When he goes to slick his hair back, the sun glints from his watch. We walk around the front of the car, and one of Gabe's men holds up his hand to halt us.

"I'm Pedro," the man in the suit says, "head of the Sinaloa cartel. So sorry Gabriel couldn't make it." He smirks. "But I do hope we can come to some agreement over Juarez."

I don't respond. Just glare at him.

The tension bristles from every guy here. Pedro looks the part, but I can smell his uncertainty like a shark smells blood. I shove my hand in my pocket and wrap my fingers around my cell phone, nervously checking that it's still there. One of Gabe's men goes to the rusted door of the warehouse and lifts the heavy bolt. He pulls on it and the large metal door creaks open.

There's a moment of hesitation before we all walk into the dark warehouse. The guy in front grabs the lever on the wall and flips the switch. The fluorescent lights buzz to life before I scan the room, taking note of the barrels of gasoline I placed by the far wall yesterday. Stacks of abandoned wooden boxes lay scattered about the space. Pedro walks over to one and leans against it before looking at his watch.

I motion Tor over to the side of the room, using my hand to guide her between me and an open doorway.

"Jude..." she whispers.

"Just wait, okay."

She huffs behind me. Pedro locks eyes with me and we stare each other down. One predator sizing up another, trying to work out who will end up as prey. The longer our gazes our locked, the thicker the tension grows, until it's almost a living breathing beast. Tor shifts uneasily behind me, making me hyperaware each short breath she takes. Every one of Pedro's men glare at us. After all, I'm the bookie and she's the woman who murdered their boss.

"It seems your friend's little cartel has caused quiet the problems for us over the past several weeks," Pedro finally says.

"No, that would be me," I say, lifting a brow at him. "Tell me, how does it feel to have lost the Sinaloa in the space of a month? Hell, you must be the shortest reigning boss they've ever had." I smirk. I have to bide my time here. I need them to make the first move because the second I go for Tor, they're going to shoot. "You run this city like shit," I say. The men with Pedro shift uneasily as they exchange glances.

He laughs. "Ah, but that is where you are wrong. Jésus ran the city like shit. Distracted by pretty things." His eyes flick to Tor, and he grins. "I, on the other hand, intend to be much more ruthless."

I can see a slight flicker in his eyes as a smile spreads over his lips, and, as if on cue, the doors bang open and swarms of Sinaloa pour in. Gabe's men expect it. The warehouse fills with the echoes of gunshots and shouts. It's the fucking distraction I need. I grab Tor and sling her through the open doorway behind us. When she attempts to fight me, I shove her as hard as I can. She falls back, grabbing the metal railing of the bomb shelter stairs just before she tumbles down the steps. "You go to your sister and you get Cayla, and don't ever let anyone besides her know you are alive." I go to shut the door and pause. "I love you, Tor. Always will."

Before she has a chance to say anything, I slam the door closed and hold the handle, using all my weight to hold it shut. Tor pulls on the door, trying to get it open as bullets ricochet from the metal walls. Holding the door with one hand, I fish the phone from my pocket. She manages to get the door open about an inch, screaming my name, before it slams closed again. I struggle to type over the screen as she fights me. Did she really ever believe I would let her die? The only job I have is to protect my girls, and what kind of man would I be if I led her to her death, allowing my daughter to grow up without her beautiful mother?

My finger hovers over the button that will detonate the bomb. In this moment, all the noise, all the chaos fades to static behind the pounding of my heart. This is it. There is no turning back.

There is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for them because I know a life without either of them isn't worth living, and I can't imagine a world where they don't exist. I press the button, waiting. It seems like an eternity before I feel the pressure, the heat followed by the deafening boom that sends me flying across the room away from the door. I'm thrown against a wall, smoke and debris swirling in the air. There's an eerie quiet just before the metal rafters begin to creak and groan, and a sound like a crackling, falling tree echoes through the crumbling warehouse. I'm drowning in a cloud of dust when I watch the beam come crashing down.

I did this for love.

A heavy sensation crushes over me. Pain radiates throughout my body. My instincts beg me to fight, but some things you cannot hope to win against, so I think of Tor and Cayla one last time before I willingly succumb to the darkness with peace because I loved them.