Gunner ducked from the bullet but collapsed to the ground with an angry, screeching woman pounding him with her fists. He tried restraining her arms, but the fury in her eyes amplified like crimson spider webs, fueling her strength. Spit gathered in her mouth with a bead dangling from her lip, ready to drip onto his face as she fought against him.

Using the strength in his back, he bucked his hips and scissored his legs around her torso—locking her in place. This made her screech louder as gunfire shot all around them like firecrackers lighting up the navy blue sky. He see-sawed forward, forcing her onto her back, and with a jerk of his legs, he broke her neck.

Next to him, Jasper pulled Archibald's attacker off by the hair and shot through his temple. As bullets flew past them and pierced through the tents, Archibald extended his arm, firing several rounds at the Scout aiming at them. Gunner tucked and rolled into a kneeling position, releasing a throwing knife that slid into the Scout's neck. The man slapped his palm over the protruding handle and dropped to the ground like a wet sandbag.

"Come on!" Gunner shouted, dragging Archibald behind the tent while Jasper finished off the knifed Scout. "Are you alright?"

"Tis a scratch..." Archibald grimaced, covering his side.

"Let me see."

"No! Go finish what we started. I'll be fine."

"Archibald! Let me see."

"MIGUEL." He grabbed him by the shirt collar. "I'll be fine! Now go."

Gunner glanced down at the scarlet color blooming across the man's side like a wildfire consuming a forest, so he pressed his palm against it. "Hang on. We'll get you home."

"We'll get there faster if you help my son and your cousin. Now go!"

"Fine, you stubborn man."

Leaving him, Gunner returned to the war zone they created and spotted Jasper using a gargantuan tree trunk as a shield while exchanging fire with a few Scouts across the way. Meanwhile, Abraham wrestled on the ground with another. With the Scouts distracted, Gunner rushed along the perimeter of the camp and weaved through the trees. Branches slapped his legs and whipped his face, leaving tiny cuts on his exposed flesh—yet he felt none of it as he ran.

With a knife in each hand, he dashed for the first Scout he saw and jammed a blade into his neck. The rifle in the man's hand sent a spray of bullets towards the sky as he fell backward, so Gunner snatched it from his grip before firing a round into his skull. He sprinted around more trees, spotting his next targets, and dropped to a knee to position his newly gained rifle. Taking a breath, he concentrated on the first Scout and exhaled as he pulled the trigger. When their body dropped to the ground, he jumped to his feet and fired at the next one while running.

Not wasting any time, he zig-zagged towards another Scout, and through the clearing of trees, he saw her stretched across a slab of rock with a rifle in hand. Bullets screeched from the barrel as she took shots at Abraham, who ducked and dove for cover. Slowing his pace, Gunner snatched a rock from the ground and tiptoed onto the slab. When he got closer, he yanked the woman's head back.

"Naptime, precious," he said, knocking her out.

Using the rifle's strap, he bound her arms at her sides, and then stood on the slab to reassess the camp. Jasper emerged from the tree, doing the same as his eyes roamed over the quiet scenery. Abraham gave one last stab to a Scout and straightened hai posture, his garments looking as if he'd bathed in a barrel of wine.

"You hurt?" Gunner called out.

"No es mi sangre," he replied and motioned over the bodies. "Their blood."

"Where's my father?" Jasper asked.

"Behind the tent. He's hurt. We should hurry home."

As Jasper rushed off, Gunner dragged his new prisoner with him while stepping down from the stone and making his way to Abraham. Bodies scattered the ground like candy from a busted piñata, but the job was complete, and his family was safe.

For now.

∆∆∆

People celebrated as salsa music floated high into the air like smoke signals, while others continued feasting or drinking. Yet the plate of food next to Corbin remained untouched as he sat back in a wobbling folding chair. The party spilled into the early morning hours, and from where he sat, Clara and Luna swayed like belles of the ball. Every once in a while, he would make eye-contact with the two women, and they would wave at him from the dancefloor.

Except he was anything but delighted to be at a party celebrating. Inside his chest, his heart beat like a ticking clock. Somewhere out there, Gunner, Archibald, and Jasper were on a killing spree to protect Clara.

The neighbor. The Scouts. They would become a feast for crows by sunrise.

Corbin never saw Gunner in action, but based on a few stories he once heard about him working undercover across the Mexican border, he imagined their merciless deaths.

He flinched when he felt a hard shove from behind him and jumped out of the way as the same uncles from earlier began brawling again. The two drunk men collapsed onto the table, catapulting Corbin's plate of food which sped through the air and right into Gunner's aunt.

The woman gasped in horror and stared at the mess smeared across her flouncy dress. "Mi nuevo vestido!"

With a deep inhale, she removed her fancy, strappy sandal, marched up to the two grown men wrestling on the floor like crocodiles, and began beating them with it. Corbin had never seen anything like it as the two men abandoned their fighting and recoiled from her sandal. As they crawled away from her, she chased them with her shoe until the two uncles crumbled in each other's arms, laughing. The aunt spouted off a few choice words in Spanish that even Corbin understood, making him wince. Yet the two men continued laughing with streams of tears running down their cheeks, and the aunt walked away to clean her dress.

"Quite the party, huh?" Clara chuckled, her nose and cheeks rosy from the tequila as she joined Corbin's side.

"Yeah, it's... Interesting." He scratched his head. "What have they been fighting about?"

"It's been going on for years. See, Tio Claudio and Tio Julio dated the same woman thirty years ago, so whenever they drink tequila, they always fight about who had her first."

"But it seems like, after a while, they just end up laughing about it."

"Yeah, that's Miguel's family for you. They're complicated, but I love them! They might fight with each other, but the moment an outsider messes with one of them..." Clara cocked her brow. "Well, that person better watch out."

"That's good to know. I suppose a crazy family is better than having no family."

"Hey." Clara placed a hand on his elbow and stepped in front of him. "You're my family. We're not related by blood, but you still have me."

"I know, I know." He nodded. "But it's just that my parents and my grandfather are dead, and my uncle Domino, well... it's complicated with him, so for the last five years, I've had no one."

Clara squeezed his hand. "But not anymore. You now have me, Miguel, my brother, and it looks like you've inherited someone else too."

Clara's eyes drifted to the dance floor so he followed her gaze and felt his heart squeeze at the sight of Luna. Without a doubt, she was beautiful, and the green leaves on the floral dress she borrowed made her stunning eye color stand out even more. Not to mention how the fabric framed her body perfectly or how the skirt fanned out each time she spun, revealing her toned, tan legs.

"I don't think she's interested in me," he replied. "She seems to put up a wall whenever I ask her about personal things."

"That's because of how Archibald raised her. He's a good man, despite his faults. I just don't think he was ready to raise a child or two, let alone a daughter."

"Yeah, about that." Corbin rubbed his chin. "I overheard Jasper telling Archibald how he can't change what happened in Cuba. What's that about? What happened there?"

"Oh..." Clara's forehead wrinkled as she thought about it. "Archibald owned a boat and used it to export his father-in-law's coffee. He was gone for weeks and sometimes months at a time. Then somewhere along the way, he adopted Jasper, and when they returned to Cuba together, they found the coffee farm burned to the ground. Archibald blames himself for not being there to protect his family."

"So who burned the place?"

"I'm not sure. I just know that one day a bunch of Soldados burned it all down." Clara's attention drifted. "Speaking of complicated families... have you seen Miguel? I want to dance with him."

"Oh, um, he, well..." Corbin replied.

"Spit it out!" She slapped his chest. "He's up to something, isn't he?"

"No." He shook his head.

"Corbin." She arched her brow.

"He... I..."

"Oh! There he is!" She pointed, and Corbin saw Gunner weaving through the crowd towards them. His stomach sank. Only two hours passed—maybe three at the most. Could they have killed everyone that fast? Clara jumped into his arms as she drunkenly showered her husband with kisses. "Where have you been? You owe me a dance, Mr! And did you change your shirt?"

"You know my Tia Lupe—she had us guys down in the basement trying her latest batch of bathtub gin, and I spilled some on myself. Good thing my dad and I are the same sizes."

"Well, come dance with me," Clara said as she walked backward with a little shimmy, pulling him with her.

Gunner grinned from ear to ear, his eyes becoming shiny gems while admiring his wife. He cupped his hands around her face and pulled her into him. With his forehead leaning against hers, he said, "I love you so much."

Clara gave his lips a peck and chuckled softly. "Maybe we should forget the dance and head home?"

"No. I want to dance with my beautiful wife." As he guided Clara onto the dancefloor, he said over his shoulder, "Corbin, you and Luna should head down to the basement and try some gin."

Judging how Gunner was staring at him, he knew it was more of a message than an invitation to try Tia Lupe's latest concoction. Searching the dancefloor, he spotted Luna in mid-twirl, her face a blush of red as she threw her head back in delight. He steered his way over and nodded to her elderly dance partner, who, despite his cane, still had impressive moves.

"Can I cut in?" he asked, and the elderly family member nodded before spinning Luna toward him.

When her body thudded against him, Corbin wrapped his arms around her waist, steadying her. A dribble of sweat rolled down her chest luring his attention, and it made his heart punch against his ribcage. Their eyes locked, her green ones absorbing his blue ones as she began swaying her hips.

"You're beautiful," Corbin blurted, and Luna paused from dancing. Her pupils dilated as she dropped her gaze to his lips, and her tongue did a quick sweep of her own.

Leaned up on tiptoes, she brought her face to his and when her tongue invaded his mouth, it tasted sweet—like the agua fresca she chugged after each tequila shot. He tightened his grip around her waist, deepening the kiss as the music around them faded and the pulse in his ears thumped. Her knees buckled, so he attempted to straighten her, but she pushed away, abandoning his mouth. Flashing a quick smile, she smoothed down her dress.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Yes," she laughed.

"Gunner wants us to head down to the basement to try his aunt Lupe's gin."

"Ok! Let's go."

As she walked past him, she grazed her fingers down his arm and slid her hand in his. His abdomen tightened at the sensation of her soft skin and floral-citrus scent mixed with sweat from dancing. Everything about her made him want to shove Luna against a wall and have his way with her, but did she?

After weaving through the house, they headed down the carpeted basement steps, and Luna let go of his hand. He flexed his fingers, feeling how empty they were, so he reached for her again, but she was too fast skipping down the stairs and when she reached the bottom, she froze with a gasp.

Spread on the pool table, Archibald lay unconscious and covered in blood as aunt Lupe worked frantically on his wound.

"I need more towels!" she called out.

Luna ran to them, but Jasper intercepted with arms wrapping around her as she dissolved into a fit of tears.

***
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