Stolen By The Queen: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 34

Ryan paced back and forth in the makeshift hospital room, his strength coming back to him with each passing minute. He couldn't believe they'd fucking drugged him. That was his initial reaction to Camila's news.

But his second--which shook him to his core--is what exactly Camila had seen from him, if anything, in that PTSD state.

PTSD. Something he usually scoffed at, disregarded. He and his soldiers would joke about the condition because when something was that real and that painful there was no other option but to laugh about it. Bullets ruined men and women in the field but PTSD ruined men and women back home. 

He'd known, deep within that icy core inside his chest, that he had it. That the nightmares that wrenched a guttural scream from his throat and a slick, sweaty sheen across his skin, weren't normal. But he'd managed to keep it under control--to keep people far enough away that they'd never see it--to never lose his cool, his composure, his sangfroid during a mission. 

Until Camila.

The gorgeous, conniving, complex woman had snaked her way so deep under his skin she was cracking the very foundations that held him together. 

But like a coming storm or an earthquake, all he could do was brace himself for impact. There was no giving her up. Not now. Not that she owed him for goddamn life for trying to first ruin and then save his.

No, this woman was his for life.

Ryan didn't know what love was, if it was something he could ever feel in his bullet-hardened chest but Camila was as close as he'd ever get. And that would just have to be enough for her. His full attention, his unwavering focus, his creative forms of punishment. 

The phone at his ear rang twice before a familiar voice sounded on the other line.

"Hola?" *Hello?

"It's Ryan." 

There was a heavy silence that settled over the line, pierced by a child's happy cry in the background. Rafael Vargas--a happily married father of two. No one in the Mexican Cartel world would believe it. Even Ryan found it hard to picture, but he knew how happy Rafael was. How at peace he was with his decision to leave this life, and his legacy, behind. 

"Bueno, jódeme, Ryan McCallister. Have to say, amigo, never expected to hear your cold voice again." *Well, fuck me...

"That a good thing or a bad thing?" Ryan kept his gaze on Camila as he paced, her brown eyes focused on him, pleased to see him walking and standing again. 

"Very good, amigo. Although, I'm assuming you're not calling me to shoot the shit and catch up. What can I help you with?" 

Ryan released a sardonic breath. Leave it to Rafael Vargas to get straight to the point, no bullshit necessary. It was one of the many reasons he'd agreed to work with the former cartel leader and help him break free of this life with the woman he loved, Isabella.

"I'm in a bit of a...situation."

"I assumed as much."

"We need to get out of a DEA safe house before they intervene. And we have the Sinaloa and Benitez cartels on our tail." 

"We?" Rafael's voice dipped, amusement curling around his tone.

"That's what you took from all of that?" 

"Oh, for sure, amigo. Who's this 'we'?" 

Ryan dragged a hand across his mouth, bitting down on his lower lip as she stared at Camila's lovely figure, her fingers threading nervously through her hair.