Dirty Little Secrets by Julie Leto

Author:Julie Leto [Julie Leto]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Amazon: B005Q2N9QE
Publisher: Bookgoddess, LLC
Published: 2011-09-24T14:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

COLORS FLASHED AS pain exploded across Marisela’s face, blinding her in a sickening swirl of reds, oranges, and blacks. Her eyes rattled in their sockets and she blinked desperately, trying to clear her sight. She finally regained her vision in time to deflect a second blow, then roll out of the way.

The assailant was huge. Even without the ability to focus on his face, she knew who he was.

Ochoa.

She grabbed her gun and aimed, but Frankie’s shout of warning made her hold her fire. He rushed up the narrow stairs into the ruckus, gun drawn, threw the bag that had contained the explosives to Marisela, who barely grabbed a corner, then aimed his gun at the attacker and fired.

Marisela winced as the weapon discharged. Once. Twice. The sound was soft and whooshing. She scrambled out of the way and said a silent prayer of thanks. Frankie had pulled the dart gun instead of the 9 mm. He’d thought more clearly than she had.

Ochoa wavered, but didn’t go down. He tore the darts from his shoulder and chest, then howled and charged Frankie again.

“You won’t take my boat! ¡Piratas!¡Ladrones!¡Es mi yate!”

Marisela traded her 9 mm for her dart gun and shot off two more rounds into his shoulder blades. Just as before, he couldn’t reach them, though he grabbed wildly, screaming in guttural grunts about his goddamn yacht. He was now pumped with nearly six darts of sedative. How could two not have knocked him out for the count?

Frankie rammed his head into Ochoa’s gut and used his entire weight to propel the huge man toward the opposite wall. Ochoa wailed when his back slammed against the wall, driving the darts deeper into his fatty flesh.

Frankie jumped back. “Move!” he shouted to Marisela, gesturing wildly for her to scramble to the next room.

Ochoa dropped to his knees. His eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed to the floor like an iron barbell.

“We can’t leave him here,” Marisela shouted. She and Frankie were both strong, but hauling Ochoa up narrow stairways to the top deck would be near to impossible. Not with him completely unconscious. If he’d stayed on the main deck, Pan would only have had to drag him a few feet to the exit point.

“If he got down here, he must have taken out Pan somewhere along the way. Find him,”

The static in Marisela’s ear nearly drove her insane. At first, she heard nothing but feedback, and then she could hardly differentiate between noise and voices until Ian demanded radio silence. His agents immediately complied. Dion verified, at Blake’s orders, that he and the bodyguard had already disembarked onto their escape boat when Ochoa woke up and overpowered Pan. His report to warn Frankie and Marisela must have been blocked by a signal too weak to reach their position in the innards of the boat. Now, they had one big dude to transport off the yacht and possibly, an agent down.

“Frank, report.”

Marisela listened while she darted to the

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