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And the only way to do that is to change the plan.
Come up with a plan that includes me.
Maybe a plan that features me.
“You were worried that I’d be a distraction,” I say as the plan comes together even as the words spill out of me like they’re being forced up from some hidden wellspring of knowledge, like fate is speaking for me, destiny deciding for us. “So let’s do just that. Make me a distraction.”
Brock stares quizzically. Then his face clouds over, his eyes darkening to that manic shade of green-eyed jealous possessiveness. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you walk into Kazi’s auction-house at all, let alone without me protecting you,” he growls, almost spitting the words out as the hot rage burns in his voice. “What do you think you’re going to do, Yolanda? Distract him with magic tricks and geisha-dances?”
I gulp back a surreal image of myself in a belly-dancing outfit pulling rabbits out of a turban while Kazi fists his monstrous cock and gapes like a hypnotized hippo.
“You saw his expression last night,” I say, not sure what I’m implying, not sure what I’m suggesting, not sure what I’m doing. But I’m damn sure of what I’m feeling, and the feeling drives me on with surprising confidence. “And you remember that he cleared the room, kicked all his bodyguards out. So all I have to do is get him alone in a room, then distract him long enough for you to kill his two or three bodyguards outside, get your gun back from his meat cooler or whatever, then burst into the empty auction hall, kill the dragon, and save your princess for a second time.” I force what I hope is an impish smile, but Brock’s grim expression tells me I didn’t quite pull it off.
“Kazi is a violent beast with women even when he’s in a good mood,” Brock says with cold decisiveness. “You wouldn’t last three minutes when Kazi’s burning with bloodlust, wild with anger after we killed his mother.”
“So come get me in two minutes instead of three,” I say with almost whimsical nonchalance, like maybe I’ve lost my grip on reality, no longer give a damn about death or pain, not when sunshine and rainbows are within reach, when our happy ending is within sight. “Besides, Kazi doesn’t know I was driving that car. Nobody saw me. Those thugs chasing you didn’t come out the door until we were long gone. Maybe I’ll show up at his auction-hall in tears, say you fucked me all night and then got sick of me, wanted some fresh pussy. I’ll tell him you drank all night, kicked me out of the hotel room, called me names and stumbled off looking for a whorehouse.” I shrug again. “I’ll make something up. Enough to buy us some time, Brock.” Now my gaze softens, but without losing the firmness of my determination, the hardness of my newfound, almost otherworldly, confidence. “I will survive until you come for me, Brock. It has to be this way. You see it, don’t you? We have to finish this fight together.”
Brock hesitates, and I can see the conflict raging inside him. There’s the protective possessiveness that refuses to let me anywhere near danger. But there’s also an understanding that I’m strong, that I’m a survivor, that I’m a fighter.
That I’m his.
Born for him.
Made for him.
Destined to ride with him.
Which means I’m not just a princess to be protected.
I’m also a partner capable of riding into battle with my knight.
12
ONE HOUR LATER.
BACK IN JUAREZ.
BROCK
It feels dark as night even though it’s the middle of the afternoon. My heart is heavy with dread, but there’s also an undercurrent of excitement, a dark thrill when I look over at Yolanda’s pretty face hardened with determination, her innocent eyes burning with a fire that the past few days have ignited in her.
And although my brain screams that I’m insane to let her walk into the dragon’s lair alone, some instinct in me whispers that Yolanda is right.
It has to be this way.
Our love story started in darkness and violence.
And it has to end that way.
Well, end for Kazi, at least.
Because our story is only just starting.
“Don’t even start with me again,” Yolanda says when she notices me staring at her as we sit in Marybeth’s car, parked in an alley within sight of Kazi’s auction house. “Think of it as motivation to kill those guards and then destroy Kazi. Fuel for your fire.”
“That fire was burning hot enough already,” I mutter, rubbing my jaw and glancing at the dashboard clock. “I’ll be an inferno knowing that you’re alone in a room with Kazi. Hell, if he even touches you, baby . . .”
“He won’t touch me before you get him,” Yolanda says firmly. “I’ll entertain him with some parlor tricks. You know, like the geishas of Japan. Apparently they were more valued for their skills at dancing, playing music, brewing tea, and making lively conversation than their ability to give sexual pleasure.”
