PURPLE HEART - Soliders Of Fortune [BOOK TWO]

Chapter NINETEEN

Sunday 'Sunny' Santos

True to his word and in honour of our agreement, Max turns the dials of the bulky safe with deft fingers, allowing it's door to swing open to reveal the obnoxiously stocked arsenal contained within..
Row upon row of sleek, polished weapons, arranged by size and variety line the walls of the steel box, neatly laid out in a meticulous order, each fitting into their place on a customised rack..

I swear there are wanted warlords who have less artillery than Max!

Drawn upwards by a rainbow of ribbons, my gaze tracks across the top shelf and the row of military medals pinned there.. Some resemble stars, others crosses and medallions, each telling its own story of valour and courage..

"Oh wow.." I breathe, my chest tightening with anxious admiration at the sight.. As if my unsolicited erotic dreams about the mysterious man weren't confusing enough, I can hardly look at Max now without my cheeks burning red..

How is it that he has achieved so much in his years and I have done nothing?

I am almost embarrassed that he chose me to be his bride, and suddenly Verity's slight about me not being good enough for her brother rings painfully truer than ever..

Pulled by an invisible force I stumble forward in amazement, hypnotised by the gilded glint at the centrepiece of The Loan Shark's display. An elaborately carved golden pistol, dramatically beautiful and equally as deadly, rests atop a small, black-velvet cushion.. It's power.. It's magnetic presence.. It is somewhat intoxicating, and I can't help but imagine what it might have been like if I'd been holding this pistol last night..

Would things still be the same?
Or would Javier already be dead?

"You ever handle a piece before?" Max's gruff timbre rumbles from behind me, giving me a start so sharp that I reflexively flinch..

"No, never.." My wandering fingertips brush over the glossy black inlay of the golden gun, fascinated by the ice cold feeling of shiny steel.. "It's beautiful.."

"Pick it up, Bunny." He instructs with a firm, yet encouraging growl, the warmth of his body glowing behind me, keeping me distracted from thinking clearly..

"Pick it up?" I parrot dumbly.. Reaching out with a shaking hand to extract the sleek, gilded pistol, when I hesitate, struck momentarily by uncertainty..

That is when Max offers a humorous nudge for levity, leaning in so that his burly shoulder bumps against mine, rocking me a little off balance.. "It won't bite.."

"Esto es loco.." (this is crazy) I mumble as my fingers slide around the hand grip to find it is so much heavier than I thought it'd be.. The metal is cool in my hands and in its mirrored surface I can see my own wide eyed reflection..

There's no sense in trying to deny the heady rush of electricity that buzzes around my blood as I squeeze the deadly weapon in a vengeful fist.. Holding it I feel strong.. Powerful in a way I've never felt before..
Javi had kept a tarnished old sawn-off shotgun beneath the front seat of his truck, but I'd never thought to touch it, simply because it didn't belong to me.. A lesson learned that would help me to avoid the wrath of a disgruntled Javier.. At least in theory..