This Isn't Fair, Baby (War & Peace Book #6)

Author:K Webster [Webster, K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Book 6 – War & Peace Series
Publisher: K Webster
Published: 2017-04-18T04:00:00+00:00

“You may kiss your bride.”

I imagined this moment a thousand times, especially in my early teen years, but with a certain dark-eyed boy. A fancy beach wedding in California with my father walking me down the aisle. A big, frilly dress. A giant fancy cake. The whole nine yards. With Oscar. And for awhile there, while high off my ass in Esteban’s bed, he’d taken place as the groom in my fantasies.

But reality is oh-so different.

Diego Renaldo Gomez and Vienna Martina Berkley are the star of this show.

I’m still so dazed and in shock over what just happened that my husband’s kiss takes me completely by surprise. His kisses are always soft but demanding. This kiss, though, feels like a promise. I don’t get to enjoy his tongue that still tastes of wine because he ends our kiss as quickly as it began.

“Come now, mujer.”

He guides me out of the old church toward where his fancy black car awaits. I am still trying to make sense of what’s happening and staring at the gold band that sits on my ring finger when I hear what sounds like a pop.

“JORGE!” Diego roars a moment before he shoves me face first into the dirt.

A shriek escapes me. My palms sting, and I’m sure my knees are now scraped all to shit. I start to rise but then I’m tackled.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

“Stay down,” Diego hisses against my ear. His body heat is no longer enveloping me as he starts shooting at someone on the other side of the car. Everything is so loud. Even though it’s night time, the moonlight is bright. Diego crouches at the back of the car near the trunk. I dart my eyes under the vehicle to see where the shots are coming from. When someone starts charging for us, I yell, “Two ‘o clock!”

Pop! Pop!

The figure crumples into the dirt before they reach the vehicle. Shooting ensues from someplace else. I army crawl under the car until I’m close enough to take the gun from the dead man’s grip. The shooting stops but my ears are still ringing. Two men are grunting, and I recognize one of them as Diego. Another figure emerges from the tree line on the other side of the road and starts charging for us. I squint my eyes to focus before squeezing the trigger.

Pop!

The bullet tears through his knee and he crashes to the dirt. When he looks up, he makes eye contact with me under the car. His weapon aims for me but then his head explodes. I’m gaping in horror when someone grabs my ankle.

“Diego!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

My attacker yanks me roughly out from under the car. As soon as I’m out, I aim the gun at his head.

“Whoa,” Jorge says. “Whoa, niña.”

He reaches for me, but I scramble to my feet without his help.

“Get in the car,” he hisses. “Tatiana!”

She runs from the church and throws her arms around me. Her words are shaking and in Spanish.

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