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I’m in full combat mode now, feeling a familiar, heady shot of instinct that vibrates my veins.
For a second, I’m back in a penthouse on St. John Island, ushering a dirty and miserable little girl who can’t be older than thirteen out of a dungeon hole.
This is where I have to stop and make myself think.
I don’t know how many vicious motherfuckers I’ll find behind the door.
I don’t know if they’re armed or if they’ll tear into Delia’s throat the second I walk in.
I just hear low, ugly laughter, pierced by a muffled sob.
And I know exactly what I need to do.
Fucking save her!
Three more seconds go by—all I can spare to assess the situation.
“Quit fucking around and gag her,” the same gruff voice growls. “Get a pic for Mr. Joaquin so he can finally relax. We’ve got her, nice young skin and all. She’ll fetch a pretty penny after she brings us their heads. The boss willlovesending them back in fucking boxes.”
My heart thuds as Delia whimpers again.
Shit, shit.
They’re definitely from the cartel, and that means they could be well armed, well trained, and flush with backup. I don’t like the odds if it’s six on one or worse, but even six hundred hit men and mules won’t make me run.
Again, Delia cries.“Please.”
Fuck.
What the hell is he talking about? What heads?
Oh.
My whole body jolts as I realize he means Enguard. He meansme.
I’m the very reason she’s there, battered and scared for her life, completely at the mercy of these soulless fucks.
“I dunno, Rafa, you wanna just pack up and let her off that easy? Shebitme,” another man snarls. “Bitch acts like she’s never seen a grown man’s dick before. Let’s get her back to the van and have some fucking fun for our trouble. Loosen her up before we hit the road.”
Rage flares through me like fire through a cannon.
I have to stop and count breaths to regain control, my body quaking like it has a live current.
“Fuck you, pussy. Rules are rules, and if you want to fuck with Mr. Joaquin, be my guest,” the older man growls, stomping a boot down hard on the tile. “Hand her over and give me a tie. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
“She can pay something with that mouth. Quick and easy,” the younger man growls.
Then I hear a belt coming undone.
Enough!
My foot kicks the dirty old door so fucking hard it flies off its hinges and crashes against the floor.
Inside, two big, dirty men in leather jackets look at me with their eyes spinning.
Right now, I don’t care if they think I’m Casper the friendly fucking ghost.
I just want to rake my blade through their skulls.
