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And he was my hero.
CHAPTER6
Blade
Beautiful. Ballsy. Brash.
The woman I’d spanked.
The woman I’d fucked.
The very woman I hungered for.
Electricity crackled through the dingy bar, driving me into a heightened state of lust. Pure unadulterated lust. The desire was unexpected given the fact I’d just whipped five lowlifes’ asses before tossing them out. And they’d been pissed, mostly because I came out of nowhere, crushing down on what they’d marked as their turf. Every muscle in my body remained tense from the beat-down session, as well as the woman glaring in my direction.
I’d heard her name mentioned. Crystal. Suited her given her luminescent sapphire blue eyes. A stunning gem creation. She’d stood quietly during the brawl, her eyes never leaving me, watching every detail of the fight as if she’d seen more than her share. I’d detected fear in her voice, but also the tone of a fighter. She’d been through some shit in her life. That much I could tell. The fact she’d refused to back down when she undoubtedly knew what the assholes were capable of gave me an odd sense of pride. She’d spit into the face of monsters. My guess was that she had no idea just how dangerous the gang members truly were.
The gangs in Miami were a constant threat, only some kowtowing to the Sanchez authority. In my experience, street gangs were more ruthless, refusing to share in the tenable honor code as mandated by the family. Diego still ruled the streets, even though the Blood Killers and BTK, the local tribes as Diego called them had a solid hold. They hadfamiliesof their own, methods of domination that were easily recognizable, even to the authorities. I assumed very little gang life changed throughout the United States. The EME or Mexican Mafia were more organized, an intelligent leader running the show, and the only group that had challenged Sanchez to date. The others were like rabid dogs, fighting their turf wars like Neanderthals.
I snorted at the thought. My world had been more sophisticated, at least as long as Diego practiced what he required. Still, gangs were the dregs of our profession, the kind of scum that valued recruiting kids, grooming them into becoming rapists and killers.
That wasn’t the Sanchez way and certainly not mine.
No matter my less than stellar past, I couldn’t allow some freaking two-bit gang to endanger the women in the bar. I’d been in this town for less than twenty-four hours and already I didn’t appreciate the vibe. I certainly didn’t plan on being here long, only the time it took for some local mechanic to repair my baby. I’d spent a better part of the day diagnosing, hoping my skill would be enough. Not even close.
The dude at the hotel had been more than forthcoming, providing a name of a mechanic he trusted with his life. Yeah, we’d see about that. This had been his second recommendation, the walk allowing me to clear my head.
Now, this shit.
Blood covered my hands, and remnants splattered across my shirt. Dragging the last asshole by his shirt, I tossed him out of the place, standing just outside the entrance until the foot soldiers piled into two separate cars, roaring out of the parking lot after issuing expletives, the majority in broken Spanish.
But I’d heard the threats and knew exactly what they meant. They would come back to finish the job. No matter Crystal’s ridiculous bout of courage, she and her entire staff were in actual danger.
They’d have to get through me first.
I waited until I could no longer see their headlights before cruising back into the bar, locking the door behind me. While Crystal threw me a glance, she continued picking up chairs and righting tables, all products of my retaliation. I moved silently, adding my help and while she didn’t deny my assistance, she certainly didn’t try to make any small talk. That surprised me more than the fact she’d taken the gang head on.
Unable to take my eyes off her as she cleaned, even the small nuances as she slipped a long strand of hair behind her ear caught my attention. She was beautiful, although not in an ostentatious manner. There was no pretense about her, no haughty attitude. She simply worked, getting down on her hands and knees to shove beer bottles and broken glass into trash bags.
Dressed in blue jeans that had seen months of wear, a body-hugging tee shirt with the name of the bar, and boots that were scuffed on all sides, she exuded the kind of sensuality that pushed my cock to full attention. The way her copper-colored hair floated around her shoulders drew me in, longing to run my fingers through the long strands. Even the slight stench of warm beer and whatever fried food had come out of the kitchen couldn’t hide the delicious scent she was wearing: the fragrance something exotic, the musk accentuating her bold personality.
I hadn’t paid enough attention to her before, but now I was enamored, like some damn kid with a crush.
I was turned on as hell and she was ignoring my presence, as if my assistance hadn’t mattered. Taking her roughly as I had before, the taste would never be enough.
The bag filled, I moved toward the bar, trying to find the right words to begin a conversation. As she finally stood and stretched, I said nothing, having no idea what the hell to say to her. When she allowed me to grab the full trash bag from her hand, our fingers touched, creating a wave of heat rushing between us. Dear freaking God, the connection was stronger than anything I’d ever experienced. I took a deep breath, allowing the moment to linger.
Crystal stood defiantly, her hair disheveled and her makeup streaked from sweating through the night. Very slowly she recoiled her hand, a light flush cresting over her jawline. “Thank you for your help.”
I nodded once before moving toward the back, dumping the bags and checking the lot. I doubted the assholes would return tonight, but I’d been known to be wrong before. My guess was that they had a sentry waiting to follow her home, taking her there. Exhaling, I walked back inside, bolting the back door. She’d been smart to force the other two girls to leave, but Crystal seemed to be the woman they’d hunt until they found her. Anger furrowed inside of me and I clenched both fists, hissing under my breath. She’d trailed behind me, standing off to the side.
“Now, you’re going to tell me your name and what you want with my bar.” Crystal stood with a butcher knife in her hand, the grip white-knuckled. This time, her hand wasn’t shaking, as if her confidence in her abilities had returned.
I tilted my head and walked toward her, noticing the nervous tic in the corner of her mouth. Her hard shell was cracking.
She tried to stand her ground but the closer I came, the more she became unnerved, taking several steps backward until there was nowhere to go, her back hitting the wall. “Don’t. We can’t do that again. We just can’t.” Blinking several times, she shook her head over and over again, the shift forcing hair to fall into her eyes.
Now, only a few inches away, I kept every move slow and deliberate, wrapping my hand around her wrist and using just enough pressure until she released her stronghold on the knife. “I’m not going to hurt you, Crystal. You should have figured that out by now.” I’d caught the fact she’d glanced at my scar more than once. For women who had no idea about my status within the Sanchez organization, they usually ran away in fear, as if my damaged face was the distinct sign of a less than honorable man. While Crystal was drawn, the fact I was an ugly fucker didn’t seem to bother her. Her fear had more to do with the asshole gang members than the monster standing in front of her.
