Gunplay & Moonlight

Leigh fiddled with her hair as Guero pulled the targets forward. The smell of any shooting range made her sick to her stomach. This one was no different. She only came here because she had to. To stay good at being an assassin, one has to practice.

Guero smiled at the marks, offering her the sheet.

“So you approve?” Leigh simpered, smiling as he studied it.

“There would be few who would not,” he replied in Spanish.

Leigh’s smile vanished. It wasn’t that his native tongue annoyed her; in fact, his accent drove her wild. It was her own weaknesses. She was never much for languages—writing papers in college made her quake with anxiety. Maybe it was an undiagnosed disability, she mused, or maybe it was a faucet of her shitty upbringing.

Ignoring Guero, she hit the button to draw back the target. Hearing it whirl back, Leigh felt Guero’s eyes on her as she fired relentlessly.

“Enough,” he said with a frown, taking the gun from her as she finished the round. “You’ve made your point, Anne Oakley.”

“Any other tests, boss?” Leigh asked, studying him from under fringed lashes.

She couldn’t look at him without wanting to rip his clothes off. That day, he wore one of his signature white shirts open at the nape of his neck—his blonde hair tousled. But for once, the sight of his impressive musculature didn’t spark any amorous feelings. Leigh felt... off, as if a switch inside had flipped. It so distracted her that she hurriedly took off her ear guards, eager to leave.

“Are we going to get something to eat on the way back?” she said quickly. “I’m famished.”

“If you like.”

Guero led her out of the range, his hand on the small of her back. Leigh knew how to read his body language. He was upset. This made her frustration grow. It would end as it always did—in bed. Her heart pounded at the thought, and her spirits lifted. Her earlier confusion at the gun range drifted away as she consoled herself—she was fine, they were fine. This contented her as he wordlessly brought her out onto the entrance, signing the gun out and leading the way to their car.

The range sat close to their suite, used by local law enforcement and other guns for hire. In fact, all of their movements happened within a five to ten-mile radius. Leigh pondered this as he brought the vehicle to life.

“How was the debrief?” she asked, not willing to let Guero’s silence dissuade her.

He shrugged, eyes on the road as he zoomed towards their casita.

“No,” Leigh said, eyes boring into his as he coolly ignored her. “Don’t do that—don’t ice me out.”

“I’m not icing you,” Guero shot back, pulling into a parking space with flourish.

“And?”

Guero moved to exit the car before pausing, a tense look on his face. He sat still for a moment, as if ruminating on something. Leigh felt her interest peak. It wasn’t like Guero to hide things from her. Something was bothering him, that was certain, but he was unable, or perhaps unwilling, to admit it.

Leigh suddenly felt sick. A wave of exhaustion followed, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from drifting closed right then and there. She stifled a yawn.

“I’m ordering food,” she commanded, sliding from the seat. Exiting the car, she slammed the door harder than necessary, ignoring his efforts to keep up with her as she strode into their casita.

Making a beeline for the shower, she took her time under the hot, pounding water. Visiting the range had that effect. She practically grew up in one, and the smell always left a particular distaste in the back of her throat.

Funny, it wasn’t the killings as much as the range that shook her. Even this life, here with Guero, she felt strangely bored with all of it. She watched the soapy suds run down her taut stomach, pondering his silence in the car. He hadn’t been himself after the debrief. Leigh’s mind ruminated on this, going through the likely scenarios.

She had done a good job—it wasn’t that. Perhaps something to do with Rubén? Guero had seen him only hours before the debrief.

It was Rubén who recruited Guero out of the family business and into being a gun for hire for Cavanaugh. While Leigh initially reveled in getting Guero out of the cartel, she swiftly realized they had traded one set of bosses for another. Many of the marks were becoming increasingly linked to Guero’s old business associates. It seemed like they were making things easier for certain cartels to operate by picking off their competition.

Guero might as well still be working for the cartel. At least he had power then—and more money than was good for them.

Now they had money, sure, but how could they use it cooped up in this place? The Improve Group paid for everything, sure, but corporate housing wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when Leigh first came to live in Mexico.

Frowning, Leigh globbed on the conditioner, working it through her hair as she thought this through. Initially, she loved the idea of being holed up with Guero; she had him all to herself, and that made each day a dream.

But lately? She felt the confines of their gilded cage. They couldn’t go out too much; all the meals had to be at the resort. Cavanaugh had them under lock and key.

At least they were safe, for now. Leigh reminded herself of this for the millionth time before turning off the water. She stepped onto a plush rug and wrapped a towel around her. How silly, to complain about this life—to want something else, away from all this luxury.

Leigh began applying her face cream, staring at her pale complexion and sopping dark hair. Wrapping it in a towel, she felt her stomach growl; she needed to eat something immediately.

Exiting into her suite, she smiled as she saw the food set out on the patio. Guero sat next to the tray, a drink in his hand, studying the fading sunlight.

Leigh’s earlier annoyance faded as she tucked into her meal. Guero watched her in companionable silence. Leigh thought of one of their first meetings, when he made a meal out of her on the room service cart.

Catching his eye, he smiled at her. Leigh felt her stomach lift, the curve of his lips hinting at his interest for the rest of the night. Smiling at her good fortune, she decided to put Cavanaugh to rest—for now.

*

Guero stared out at the moonlight before stealing a look back at Leigh. She slept soundly, her chest rising and falling in repose. He glanced down at his cell phone, checking for messages that hadn’t yet come in.

He felt like he was sneaking behind her back, but what he kept from her, he did for her own safety. It was a tactic to use Sylvie. He knew she wanted him; it didn’t take much to pull the string. To bait her—hook, line, and sinker.

Guero needed an escape plan—he could feel the truth in his bones. The payout had to be something they could live on for a good while. That type of money meant negotiating.

As he waited for the message to come in, he thought again of his actions. It wasn’t much of a plan—get away from Cavanaugh and go somewhere, anywhere else. But would running solve his problems?

Taking one last look at Leigh, he stole towards the patio, opening the door slowly and exiting into the night. He could hear the waves and smell the salt in the air.

Could he leave this?

Go where, California, or God-forbid, Arizona? Here, he was king of his castle. Would it feel the same in the States?

The message came in, and he made the call.

“Hola?”

“Calling me rather late, aren’t you?” Sylvie giggled.

“I’m usually up late,” Guero admitted, more to himself than anyone. Sylvie was a means to an end. Any woman with half a brain would sense he was using her. But still, Guero had to think of himself—and of Leigh.

He couldn’t see a way forward before, but he could feel around its edges now. If he could step away from a cartel, he could certainly leave Cavanaugh. He knew this, but as things grew more commercialized, as the lines between vice and cops grew thin, he wondered.

“What do you think about my proposition?” Guero said softly, a tilt of interest in his voice.

“Selling yourself to us, you mean?” Sylvie giggled. “How would your girlfriend feel about that?”

“I would be your one-man show.” Guero felt his heart beating as he said the words. “I could stay with you even. Would you like that?”

He was treading precariously. If Leigh could only hear him now, she would be livid.

Why was he doing this?

To protect her, for one. He wasn’t the kind of man who threw his girlfriend out to do dirty jobs while he sat back and played chauffer. It wasn’t about his ego. Leigh was good, better than good.

Her talent was being underestimated—that, and being a crack shot. She was making waves around Cancun. There were rumors about her—La Ejecutora. A female executioner who had Cancun brass quaking. The rumors were just the start—eventually, people would put the pieces together. He was worried about a sparkle and fade. He knew rising stars, especially in their line of business, were snuffed out by the very forces that hired them.

Guero would not allow this to happen to her.

Sylvie chuckled, breathing heavily. Had she been drinking? It seemed so. No matter, a little inebriation would help with his plan.

“When are you going to tell her?”

Guero glanced inside the darkened casita.

“I’m not,” he admitted. “There’s no reason for her to know.”

“So you’ll just disappear? You would do that to her?” Sylvie said quickly.

Guero paused. It sounded silly, but he didn’t think that far ahead. He only knew that Cavanaugh was dangerous and he needed Leigh safe.

“Even though it’s not working out, her safety is important to me.”

Guero swallowed hard. He felt like he was walking a knife’s edge. He may get the better of Cavanaugh, but he worried about the odds. Leigh would be a loose end; someone Cavanaugh would use against him. Their electric companionship had become a liability. He needed Leigh safe—at least until he could figure this out. Then he could find her, beg forgiveness, and build again.

Guero felt his heart thudding as Sylvie giggled into the phone.

“He’s been impressed with you two—it might be a hard sell.”

“But you know him the best,” Guero said, “you could convince him.”

“Maybe, but what would I get?”

There it was, the question Guero had been dreading. He shook his head. Everything was a negotiation in Mexico. He knew in his heart he could never be unfaithful to Leigh, but did this situation warrant some ease in navigation?

“Maybe we could work something out,” he purred. “If I’m able to make this deal.”

“So, we have the chicken and the egg, which will come first?”

“No one knows this town quite like me. Give me your most sensitive job. Leave Leigh out of it, and I’m your man for hire.” Guero swallowed hard. “Forever.”

“Wow, you’d do that for her?”

“For me,” he corrected.

He felt chills all over as he said the words, disappointed with himself. Years ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about this negotiation, but tonight it made his blood run cold.

“Then I’ll get it started. Be by your phone. I love these late-night phone calls,” Sylvie said. He could feel her interest, sense her lust poised like a coiled snake.

“Adios,” Guero hung up the phone, feeling like the weight around his neck just grew heavier.

He tucked the cell phone in his pocket, pursing his lips. He wouldn’t go back inside. He felt like a coward, a failure. Unable to protect his girlfriend or get her out of this mess.

Shaking his head, he stared out into the crashing waves, his mind spiraling into despair.

📚 Want to start from the beginning?
Read the first sizzling installment of Spring Break on Amazon:
👉 Spring Break on Amazon

Get the backstory, the heat, and all the delicious drama from the start. 💋