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She was pale and her thick dark hair was matted to one side of her head and her wrists were tied together with zip ties. My hands gripped into tight fists when she looked up and lifted her hands to shield her eyes against the sun, brushing hair from her face to reveal a big fucking purple bruise on her right eye. Marisol’s jeans and t-shirt were filthy and all I could think was that he’d kept her in that same fucking room all this time.
It took everything in me not to bridge the gap between me and that sorry fucker and turn his face into fucking hamburger meat. “You tiny little asshole,” I growled at him. I couldn’t believe this little shit was the boss of the cartel. He was such a pussy.
“Watch your temper,” Carlito warned, eyes trained on me with a small smile tilting his thin lips upward.
I pushed my boots into the blacktop parking lot as hard as I could to keep myself rooted to the ground until this fucking trade was over. “Watch yourself, little man.”
Gunnar grunted and stepped between us. “Enough with this fucking bullshit! Give me the girl and take your shit. Now.” He looked so goddamn intimidating that even I almost flinched.
Guapo stepped forward to protect his boss. Or his cousin. Or his boyfriend, who the fuck knew at this point. He put a hand up to Gunnar’s chest and just that quick, Gunnar twisted his wrist until he was on his knees. “Puto cabrón,” he spat, eyes full of hatred as he stared up at Gunnar.
“You got something you want to say, fat boy?” When Guapo said nothing, Gunnar grinned. “Tell your ape to keep his fucking hands to himself. Next time I’m keepin’ one of ’em.” Even I believed that crazy bastard.
Carlito clapped his hands like a fucking spinster aunt. “Calm down, boys. Now you see the girl is here, I want my shipment.”
Gunnar cast a quick glance at Marisol, just long enough to take in her unkempt appearance before sending a harder, angrier look at Carlito. “She ain’t in the condition we agreed on, Carlito.”
“Yes, well, Marisol has a hard time following instruction.” The smug bastard was so goddamn creepy, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him, especially when Marisol shivered like she was cold in this seventy-five-degree weather. She looked beaten. Exhausted. Terrified.
“She ain’t the only one,” Gunnar said, taking another step forward when Guapo finally got back to his feet. “How you gonna fix this, Carlito?”
His thick dark brows furrowed in confusion. “Fix what? She is here.”
“But not unharmed. I thought you said you were a man of your word.”
Carlito laughed but he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. He might be crazy but only when he had the advantage. “Fix? What do you propose?”
Gunnar grinned and it was a terrifying, snarly grin. Like a lion right before that motherfucker pounced. “Well I would propose you let us put Guapo out on the stroll, but I don’t think too many men out there want to fuck a big fat fucking teddy bear.” He next words were cut off when Guapo sent a fist flying into Gunnar’s gut. “Damn you hit like a bitch, maybe we’ll just put you in one of the whore houses so you can give out five-dollar blow jobs.”
Guapo lifted his fist again, hate shining so bright his eyes were black but it was a mistake. Another one. Gunnar’s fist was raised higher and he let it go with a sickening crack to that fucker’s jaw.
“Puto!”
Another King Kong sized fist raised in the air and Guapo braced himself for the hit that never came. He opened his eyes to find Gunnar right in his face, nostrils flaring and face red, prepared to throw down. “You want to do this, fat boy? Because I will fucking rip your tiny cock out through your throat.”
Carlito hissed at his henchman. “Guapo, calmate no hay tiempo .”
“We waited plenty of fucking time,” I told him. “You have time now for your boy to get the beatdown he deserves. You next?”
He froze and gave Guapo a quick head nod, sending the man back to his feet where he grabbed Marisol and shoved her in my direction. Carlito jumped into the passenger seat of the first SUV and rolled down the window. “Next time I tell you to come alone, you do it!” He pointed at Gunnar, who he’d pegged as our leader.
Gunnar stared at Carlito until he squirmed in his seat, sweat beading around his hairline. “There won’t be a fucking next time, asshole. If I see either one of you again, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your fucking head. And yours,” he pointed at Guapo who now occupied the driver’s seat. “Get the fuck outta here.”
I waited, hand on the piece holstered behind me, certain this dirty motherfucker would try
to be tough before he left. Instead, Guapo hit the gas and the SUVs surrounded the truck and got to work.
“Let’s go,” Gunnar said, wrapping a protective arm around Marisol and leading her across the parking lot to the plain black van behind the strip mall.
Thank fuck this shit was over. For now.
I hoped.
Chapter Twenty-Three - Max
The thing no one ever said about falling love, about having a family, was how their pain became your pain. Since having children and getting married, I had a greater appreciation for what my own ma went through, raising two hellions like me and Golden Boy. Watching Jana in the clubhouse kitchen—where she’d been for the past four hours straight—rinsing and chopping, boiling and sautéing, baking and frying, brought new meaning to the word pain.
She hadn’t stopped moving since she woke up. Hell, if I was keepin’ it real, she hadn’t stopped for the past twenty-four hours when she’d taken Marisol in her arms and got her cleaned up and in some new clothes. The sight of the poor woman, frail and broken, had touched something inside of my woman. I just hoped it was temporary. “Babe, relax. Please.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind and startled the fuck out of her, proof of just how deep into her thoughts she’d been.
