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“My pleasure.” Once she leaves, I begin adding a little sugar to my coffee and begin observing the others dining tonight. There are a few older couples, but the majority I’ve run into are all adults. People are laughing and drinking and for a second, I’m a little jealous.
Always alone.
“Evening, Amberlyn,” a male voice says from my right, and I’m startled, but more so because it’s familiar. And when I flick my gaze in his direction, I understand why.
What the fuck? “Detective Uriel, what—”
“Jaime, sweetheart. Say my name.”
“Again, Detective,” I say, adding emphasis on his title, “what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to pick up my girl.” That calms me for all of two seconds, when he’s grabbing my arm on the next. His grip is tight as he tries to pull me up, causing the couple a table over to look our way. “Did you miss me, bebe?”
Coming from him, that word is all wrong. Disgust me and I shiver, something he mistakes for pleasure.
“Let go, Uriel. I’m not finding this funny.”
“Neither was the death of my brother, but your cunt of a fuck buddy made sure I felt that blow.” He bends down so his mouth is next to my ear, his hot breath causing my stomach to revolt. “And you will pay for his sins, amor. I’ll take your pussy as deposit and your asshole as liquidation of said charges. Over and over again, Miss Ibarra, and you have the De Leons to thank for the cruel future you’ve been sacrificed to.”
Yet a few seconds after the last word leaves his lips, there’s an audible click of a gun, and men surround the table. It all happens so fast. One second Jaime has a grip on my arm, and the next he’s on the ground a few feet from me with a vicious predator straddling his body and landing blow after blow to a now-unconscious man.
Those inside the restaurant look on in fear, while the staff seems unperturbed.
“What the fuck?” It leaves me and as if on cue, those eyes that haunt me turn and our stares connect. His hands are a bloody mess, while there are specks of red across his cheeks. His lips are curled up into an angry snarl, and yet he’s never been more beautiful to me.
I sway in my seat and he’s off Uriel’s body in an instant, sauntering toward me. His gait is powerful, too much, and in my panic, I rise from my seat. “Stay back.”
“Mermaid, I need you to calm down.” Ivan grabs an untouched glass of water and napkin from a nearby table, making quick work of wiping his hands. The ease in which he does so show his comfort and quit wit, ridding himself of Uriel’s blood quickly. Not completely, but enough you can’t tell without inspecting carefully. “You know I’d never hurt you.”
“Liar.”
“Bebe, please. Let’s cool off and talk. There’s—”
For some reason, my world breaks at that moment and fight-or-flight takes over. There’s one of his men to my right with a gun at his side, tucked into the waistband of a pair of dress pants, and I grab it before anyone can react. It also goes off just as quick, adrenaline making it difficult past the lies and betrayal—my need to hurt Ivan is larger than my body can contain.
“No one touches her,” he barks out, the sound a little pained. “Step down.”
“No, De Leon. You step back.” My feet are trying to reach the exit, one step at a time. “No mas. We’re done.”
“The fuck we are,” he roars, his harsh—angry—tone causing me to almost drop the weapon. “There will never be an end to us, Sirenita. I’ll kill the devil himself to keep you.”
26
I DON’T THINK twice, tossing her over my shoulder in three strides while ignoring the punches landing on my back. My mermaid is livid, and I love it. Prefer this to ignorance.
That cold shoulder shit taught me a valuable lesson; she can be cruel.
“Put me down, De Leon. I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Out,” I hiss from between clenching teeth while her body squirms over the shoulder she lightly grazed with a bullet. It’s not a huge wound, just stings, and I’ll take care of it—and her for it—later. No matter what, we don’t shoot at each other. I’ll admit my girl has good aim and had she been calm, there’s no doubt I’d be removing a shell and not planning the ways to fuck her into submission.
One by one, everyone inside the restaurant vacates without hesitating. The moment the last person leaves, I give Israel a nod and he picks up the unconscious waste of sperm from the floor, nearly dislocating his shoulder with the way he jams it into the table's edge. “I want him in the plane’s cargo area within twenty. Make sure he’s treated like royalty while you wait for us.”
My sirenita huffs, but the hard punch to my side will leave a bruise. Brat.
She’ll pay for that later.
On her knees or back. Maybe on all fours with her pretty holes on display.
