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Jules let Bell handle it since he couldn’t speak a word of Spanish unless it involved getting drunk or getting laid. With two high-powered rifles pointed at the driver’s head, Bell spoke to him in rapid Spanish.
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Sergio “Bell” Guzman yanked open the door of the box van and hauled the driver out and shoved him to his knees while Fish did the same with the passenger on the other side.
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Their truck drivers joined them a moment later. Jules and the other six men on foot came out of the brush on each side of the road in a fast-moving combat crouch, their deadly-looking semi-automatic rifles pointed at the driver and passenger. As the van shuddered to a stop, another truck surged across the road behind, pinning their quarry in. They had picked this section of road for their ambush because the blind corner hid their presence until the last moment and the deep ditches prevented the truck from driving past their roadblock. The driver must have known he was in bandit country… and he was about to meet the bandits.Ī jacked up Chevy pickup lunged across the road, blocking the truck’s path. They had all heard the same report.Ī moment later, a late model Ford box van, driving far too fast down the rough and washboarded dirt road, swung around the corner on the edge of control. Jules looked around and watched the other six men on his team become deadly serious. “We got a box van on the way,” Marsh’s voice came over the radio. Jules was pulled back from his private bitching when his earbud squawked. Unfortunately, Vallecito saw a lot more ninety degree days than it did fifty, so… Of course, when Fish is freezing his ass off in fifty degree weather, I’m still walking around in short sleeves. Jules was of the opinion that Fish, an Arizona native, could walk on the surface of the sun without breaking a sweat. Unlike that asshole, Fish, Jules thought as he glanced to the man on his right.Ĭharles Fisher, his best friend, was crouched in the brush with him with not a drop of sweat visible. He had been living in the hot Texas sun for three years, but having grown up in Montana, he didn’t think he would ever adjust to the heat.
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Julian “Jules” Rivera crouched in the scrub brush as he absentmindedly brushed a finger along his right eyebrow, wiping away the droplet of sweat before it could roll down into his eye, his shirt already plastered to him like a second skin from his sweat. Free Novels Online Read Home Romance Billionaire Romance New-Adult Young-Adult Hot Book Series fantasy Vampires Others Books Science Fiction Thriller Horror Classics New Releases Mystery/Suspense Hot Authors New Category Book Romance Contemporary Contemporary Romance Fantasy Paranormal Erotica Adult Fiction Did Not Finish Paranormal Romance Shapeshifters Historical Romance Historical New Adult Fiction Novella Science Fiction Suspense Romantic Suspense Military Fiction War Bdsm Sports Sports and Games Young Adult Historical Fiction Dark Mystery Adult Polyamorous Reverse Harem Vampires Womens Fiction Menage Chick Lit Holiday Dragons Short Stories Regency Sports Romance Christmas Aliens Erotic Romance Humor Magic Thriller Sociology Business Abuse Category Romance