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That or kill her.
They’d have to get in line. My Little Kitten has more enemies than she knows.
My phone buzzes in my breast pocket. My uncle puts his hand on her elbow and she abruptly tugs it away. I’m glad. I don’t want him touching her.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jacob asks beside me.
I turn to find him studying me with a smirk on his face, looking more relaxed than I’ve probably ever seen him.
“Shame what her brothers did to her.”
He’s baiting me. I know it. But I bite. “What do you mean?”
“Oh,” he says, trying too hard for casual as he gives a shake of his head. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean, Jacob. You clearly want to tell me something.”
He smiles. It’s not a kind smile. “Making a whore out of her like they did.” When his eyes fall on Scarlett again, there’s a leering look inside them. It makes my skin crawl. I’m about to grab this asshole and shake him, smash his face into the bar. Maybe stab his perverted eyes out with an ice pick.
But I need to keep calm.
“What do you mean?” I ask again, swallowing some whiskey to occupy my mouth before I give anything away.
“Rinaldi wanted a taste. They were smart though. I have to give them that.” He turns to the man behind the bar. “Bartender. Another for me and my friend.”
I can’t help myself. I grab hold of his collar because in my periphery I see my uncle leading her toward us and I want to know what the fuck this son-of-a-bitch is talking about.
“Spit it out, Jacob. What the fuck are you trying to tell me?”
He looks down at my hand and it takes me a minute, but I release him.
“Rinaldi wanted Scarlett from the beginning. Had a thing for her. The brothers thought if he fucked her, he wouldn’t marry her. But without the marriage, their position would be weakened. Having a look, however, well, that seemed to satisfy his lust. Building anticipation until the wedding night I guess.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He turns to look at her, expression hardening. “Let’s just say that pig knows every inch of her.” He returns his gaze to me. “It was good for her pride, though. As you probably know, she’s prideful, my niece. The night her brothers sold her virginity in exchange for the marriage of the two families brought her down a notch. Several.”
Rage beats against my ears, my chest, my fingernails digging into my palms.
“How do you know this?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I was there. And really, that was all assuming she was a virgin at all. I was around when she was growing up. I remember how she pranced around in her tight little shorts when she was just a girl.”
What the fuck is this asshole saying?
“Always putting on a show for any man who walked by.”
He turns to me, must see the rage building inside me because he clears his throat. “I tried to help her, of course.”
I turn just as Scarlett is within earshot. “I’m sure you tried to help her,” I say under my breath, vowing then to kill this pervert. Not even caring about the cartel and what that would do to my relationship with them. I will kill Jacob De La Cruz.
I step toward Scarlett and my uncle, blocking Jacob’s view of her, not wanting him to look at her any longer. I can’t stand the thought that even his eyes should fall on her.
I was twelve when I started fighting. I don’t know any other way to be.
At least I was an adult.
“Cristiano.” My uncle nods in greeting and walks past me to the bar. I don’t care.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, part of me wanting to put my jacket over her shoulders to hide her from her uncle. From the other ogling men.
She looks up at me like she has a hundred things to say. Like she wants to curse me to hell and fall into my arms all at once.
“Why is he here? Why are you talking to him?” she asks, eyes just flashing to Jacob momentarily.
I put my hand at her lower back, turn her away, walking at an angle to shield her from him.
“He’s an asshole, Scarlett. I know that. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“An asshole like your uncle, you mean?”
Someone interrupts us. The women from the charity again, like fucking gnats, these two. They start talking like we’re not having a private fucking conversation. What the fuck is wrong with people?
“Excuse us,” I say and walk Scarlett toward a quieter corridor. “What happened with my uncle?”
“He lost his shit when he saw me in your mom’s dress. I’m not going there again. I don’t care what you say. I’m not.” Her eyes get shiny and although I hear anger in her voice, she’s vulnerable.
