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Before enacting my assault on Miguel Armendariz’s modest estate, I’d been keenly aware of my men’s eyes on me; I could feel their shock at my genuinely unhinged behavior. But ever since we’d rammed his gates with our armored trucks, I hadn’t possessed the spare mental capacity to worry about what they might think of my barbaric demeanor.
Armendariz had set up considerable defenses around his home, but he didn’t command a fraction of the resources I possessed. The bastard thought he could steal Carmen from me and send me running into a trap set by Arturo Flores, eliminating me before I could bring the full might of my retribution down upon him.
Arturo would be dead any minute now; Raúl had promised to see to that. Apparently, his little Marisol had been threatened and hurt when Carmen was taken. I was certain Raúl would make a particularly vicious example of Arturo before finally allowing him to die.
I had my own brutal reckoning to mete out, and my full focus centered on eviscerating Miguel Armendariz.
My team breached his mansion, and I stepped over mutilated bodies as I moved inside the house. Gunfire exploded all throughout the property, bullets ricocheting wildly. I’d ordered my men to fire with more caution once we broke through the perimeter, but the violence around me was little more than lethal chaos. I didn’t know where Carmen was located, and she could be at risk of being hit in the firefight.
A fresh wash of panic ravaged my system, and I wrestled for control over my body. I couldn’t lose myself completely to the debilitating sensations, or I might make a mistake that would cost Carmen’s life.
I slung my rifle over my shoulder, switching my grip to the pistol that would allow me to maneuver with more precision within the confines of the house.
A brutal, punching pain slammed into my chest, the impact of the bullet hitting my Kevlar vest making my entire body jerk. I stumbled, but a shocking surge of adrenaline kept me moving through the breathless agony. My weapon trained on Daniel Vera, and his entitled sneer was effectively eviscerated when my bullet ripped a gory hole through his face.
Toxic heat surged through my veins, and I emptied another round into his motionless chest. He hadn’t suffered nearly enough. He’d taken my kitten from me. He’d given her back to the man who still terrorized her nightmares.
I slammed my boot into his ruined skull as I stalked over his body, the fist around my heart squeezing tight enough to stifle its essential rhythm. My rage was devastating, leaving me with little more cognitive ability than a rampaging beast.
Mere minutes had passed since my vicious assault had turned Armendariz’s estate into a warzone, but my ravaged lungs burned as though I’d been sprinting for hours. I tore my way through his home, navigating enemy territory with far less caution for my personal safety than was prudent. The Kevlar vest absorbed two more bullets, but I kept moving through the teeth-rattling impact, leaving a trail of dead men in my wake.
I systematically worked my way through each room, my frenzied, violent search stretching for an indeterminate, agonizing period of time. I wasn’t certain if I’d been frantically hunting for hours or minutes when I flung open a particularly thick door and was greeted with the gut-wrenching sound of her despairing wail.
My weapon trained on the threat to her, and I fired before I could think through my actions.
Armendariz bellowed in pain when my bullet ripped through his shoulder, the devastating injury rocking his stocky frame. He rounded on me, the mortal threat I posed distracting him from tormenting her. I emptied another round into his gut, putting him down before my mind allowed me to fully absorb the nauseating scene.
My sweet kitten was sprawled on the basement floor, her bronze skin ashen and her lovely eyes glittering with tears. Her stillness made my heart drop into my stomach, and suddenly, I found myself crouching over her, my feet having closed the distance between us while my mind stalled out in abject terror.
“Stefano.” She rasped my name, and my lungs managed to draw a fresh breath.
She’s alive. I reassured myself by checking her vitals, my hands shaking against her clammy flesh. Her heartbeat was erratic beneath my palm, but her chest rose and fell as she breathed deeply.
Her arm twitched, as though she wanted to reach for me but couldn’t.
Alarm threatened to choke me once again, but I noted the Taser that Armendariz had dropped beside her limp body.
The bastard groaned, and I spared him a glance to ensure that he didn’t have the capacity to attack me. He writhed on the floor, clutching at the hole in his abdomen. His blood seeped out of the gaping wound, a steadily expanding black pool on the concrete.
