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They were grinning wildly.
He couldn’t even speak.
“I have to go make sure she’s not plotting to have me executed.” El Cuchillo stood to leave, pouring himself another shot and downing it quickly before casting Hector a meaningful look.
Had he passed the test? Given them a few more days?
Hector looked a little perturbed to have his night cut short, but he also stood. He looked longingly at the bottle of Griffity.
“Pour me another and you can take the bottle,” Antonio rasped out, his voice hoarse with emotion as he tried to be magnanimous to get them out the door.
Hector complied and started to leave before turning to him. “It looks like good pussy. Is it?”
Antonio swallowed. “I’ve had better,” he lied as the man grinned at him one last time and left.
He followed and turned the lock on the door, hoping against all hopes that they wouldn’t return, then he went to his girl and scooped her up in her arms.
“Cariño, I’m so fucking sorry.” He knew this was his fault. His fault she’d ever even been on their radar. Somehow, they’d found his weakness and were exploiting it.
He was so fucked.
