El Diablo Read Online Books by M. Robinson (The Devil #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Devil Series by M. Robinson
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
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“Fuck, boss! You’ve been hit!” the guard to my right shouted as we took cover behind a nearby van. Bullets still flying in every direction.

I looked down at my body trying to figure out where I’d been hit. Blood was seeping through my white shirt. “Fuck it! I’m fine!” I roared, reloading my gun. Only having enough bullets for one more round. Tossing my other pistol to the ground, I stood, still taking cover behind the van. I took my left hand and applied pressure to my side.

“Boss, let us—”

“Shut the fuck up. Let’s go!”

Shot after shot erupted from our hands. It was one right after the other, merciless images of death, the smell of blood all around us as souls were being dragged straight down to fucking Hell. Sirens could be heard in the distance, causing the SUV’s to immediately cease fire and skid off in opposite directions. Though it didn’t matter. It would take the cops fucking forever to figure out our exact location. Tall, brick buildings surrounded the back alley, causing the noise to echo from all directions.

Making it harder to pinpoint where the bullets and chaos came from.

“Boss! Wait!”

I ran.

I ran so fucking fast, ignoring the sharp pain in my side and the blood I was losing in the process. I darted toward her car not giving a flying fuck if my life was still in danger. Only needing to get to her as fast as I could. No matter what the cost.

It was my life or hers.

I. Choose. Hers.

When I came upon the mangled metal, I instantly saw Roberto’s dead body slouched over the back seat. I couldn’t see my mother’s small frame, panic and fear immediately assaulted my senses. Sinking deep into my pores before I even had the car door open.

“Please God! Please! Please God!” I begged to the Lord above as I swung open the door. Knowing that I had no right asking the Heavens above to help a man like me.

This was my fault.

I did this.

No one else but me.

She was an innocent soul in all of this mayhem. Getting caught in the crossfire of the life the Martinez men led. Being punished for the choices we made. The lives we had taken. Our daily struggles between good versus evil, when evil always won in the end.

She was the only love I had known for most of my life. The only light that surrounded the darkness that lived within us. I prayed to God, the saints, and the angels that they would see everything she stood for. That they would know she didn’t deserve this. That this wasn’t the way she was supposed to die, through an act of vengeance meant for my father and me. I prayed they would give her mercy for her kind heart, her pure spirit, and undying devotion and love to the men in her life. Even though we didn’t deserve it.

I threw off Roberto’s limp body, finding my mother beneath him on the floorboard, gasping for air. Desperately clutching onto the cross necklace that she never took off her neck. Her protection. Her body seized uncontrollably with every forced breath that escaped her chest.

“Jesus Christ,” I pleaded, not knowing where to touch her, hold her, or comfort her.

There was blood everywhere, splattered on every surface of the car. Her clothes drenched in red. I couldn’t tell if it was hers or his.

Probably both.

“Mamá,” I murmured, finding it hard to breathe, struggling to keep going when all I wanted to do was die along with her. My heart broke into a thousand pieces. Falling upon the massacre in front of me.

Tearing apart.

Dying.

Experiencing pain and agony like I never had before.

I reached for her, grabbing her cold hand in a comforting gesture. A whimper escaped her lips. Her eyes shut from the excruciating pain I was sure she was experiencing.

“Mamá, it’s okay. I’m here. Your baby boy is here. You’re going to be okay,” I bawled, my voice breaking. “But goddamn it, you stay with me. Do you hear me? You stay with me! I’m here. I’m here, Mamá! I’m fucking here!”

I gently wrapped my arms around her upper torso, pulling her broken body away from the wreckage. Being careful not to cause her more distress. An unceasing amount of blood gushed from her chest and stomach. Seeping into every last fiber of my being. I slid down the side of the car as my legs gave out on me, ignoring the sting of my own wounds, leaning against it as I held my dying mother in my arms.

My soul drenched with guilt.

“Mamá, no! Please God! Please! Somebody help us! Somebody please help us! She’s dying! She’s fucking dying!” I screamed bloody murder. Uncontrollable tears streamed down my face, falling on her body beneath me. Shuddering, my body shook as profusely as hers. I held her so tight, so close to my fucking heart. Needing to feel her heartbeat against my chest. Reminding her how much I loved her, and how fucking sorry I was.


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