Tempted by His Target Read Online Free PDF Page A

weighing his options. There was no view of the courtyard or his hotel room door from this side of the street. He could circle around, through the carport, or back away and get the hell out of here.
    Leaving on foot would look suspicious, and he didn’t want to be without his vehicle—or the gun he’d stashed in it. Instead of playing it safe, he switched directions, heading toward the covered carport. Although it was dark inside, he could tell he was alone. He unlocked the SUV and slid into the driver’s seat, putting the key in the ignition.
    The engine wouldn’t turn over.
    Brandon tried again, frowning. It was dead.
    He caught a flash of motion in the carport and realized he should have taken off running. Before he could reach for his weapon, a dark figure appeared at the driver’s side, tapping on the window with the barrel of a 9mm.
    Damn, damn, damn .
    He held his hands up where the man could see them, his heart in his throat.
    “Get out,” the thug said, gesturing with his gun. He was tall, with rounded shoulders and a thick neck. Brandon recognized him as Gaucho Rodriguez, an enforcer for the La Familia drug cartel.
    Brandon exited the vehicle, playing along. “It’s all yours, bro! Take it.”
    Gaucho had a partner. A smaller man stood at the rear of the vehicle, studying Brandon with narrowed eyes. This was Ernestino Garcia, more commonly known as Pelón, for his balding head. Both Pelón and Gaucho were top-level members and convicted felons; they weren’t here to mess around.
    “We need to speak with you in your hotel room,” Pelón said.
    Brandon gaped at him stupidly, buying time. There was no way he’d allow this pair of miscreants to take him to a more private location. So they could tie him up and torture him for information? No, thank you.
    Then again, the gun pressed to his ribs was a powerful motivator.
    “Okay,” he said, swallowing hard. “Whatever you say. I have the key around here somewhere…”
    Pelón gestured to Gaucho, who shoved Brandon against the hood of the SUV and started patting him down. So far, so good. Before Gaucho emptied his pockets, Brandon said, “I think it’s on the passenger seat.”
    As Pelón walked around the side of the vehicle to check, Brandon noticed a shadowy form at the edge of the carport.
    Isabel.
    Her presence complicated matters, but he couldn’t squander this opportunity. The instant Pelón’s attention was diverted, Brandon flew into motion, jamming his elbow into Gaucho’s nose. It connected with a sickening crunch.
    Gaucho howled in pain and stumbled back a step. Whirling to face him, Brandon kicked the weapon from his hand. It went clattering across the concrete slab, coming to rest underneath the adjacent car. Before Brandon could follow up with another punch, Gaucho charged, slamming his meaty shoulder into Brandon’s midsection. Brandon landed on his back, the oxygen rushing from his lungs.
    Jesus Christ. The guy weighed a ton.
    He also had fists like hams. Gripping the front of Brandon’s shirt, Gaucho pummeled his face, splitting his eyebrow, busting his lip. His head rocked back against the concrete with every impact. Stars exploded behind his eyes and pain blossomed in his skull, creating a brutal symphony of sound and light.
    Brandon managed to bring his fist up, striking a hard blow to his opponent’s ear. Stunned, and probably a little winded, Gaucho lost focus. Brandon kept swinging, connecting with his target twice more in rapid succession. Realizing he was in trouble, Gaucho slumped to the side, reaching underneath the car for his gun. Before he could close his fingers around it, Brandon scrambled upright, jumping on his back. He wrapped his arm around Gaucho’s thick neck and employed a classic choke hold.
    In his peripheral vision, which was growing dark, Brandon could see Pelón coming. Isabel appeared behind him, wielding a brick. She knocked him over the head with it, showing no mercy. He crumpled to the ground,