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Funny how Win could once again hear perfectly even though his heart was jackhammering a hole in his chest.
The first guard, the one who’d hit Win, started talking. The bluster and bravado leached out of him as he stammered out something about not knowing who Win was and mistaking him for someone else.
“Did he not tell you who he was?” Mathieu’s tone was even, way too even for it to be anything but a prelude to violence. How did no one but Win recognize that?
“H-he said to tell the boss Sparrow was here.” The guard swallowed. “But, I mean…”
Mathieu cocked his head. The air around him appeared to freeze. “And you hit him after that? Even after I’ve told you—all of you—” He glanced around. “—that Sparrow is mine and he’s to be protected at all cost? With. Your. Lives?”
He said that?
“B-Boss, you never told us who Sparrow was. Or wh-what he looked like.”
Mathieu made a sound. “Hmm. Give me your gun.” He beckoned. “Hand it over.” The guy did, reluctantly, as everyone stood about watching. And Mathieu shot him.
Middle of his forehead.
Turning away before the body even hit the ground, he handed Jason the gun. “Somebody deal with his body. And set up a fund for the family.” He turned to Win, holding out a hand. Win grasped it, allowing Mathieu to pull him to his feet.
He remembered the first time Mathieu killed someone in front of him. He’d thrown up for hours afterward. Probably shit himself, too.
Now, he didn’t even blink at it.
Someone pressed a towel into his hand and he took it with a gratified grunt, wiping his face as Mathieu held him tightly and guided him into the house.
Win did his best to not notice the heat of his ex’s skin or his scent that just wouldn’t quit. His face throbbed, so at least that provided a decent sort of distraction as Mathieu brought him into his private quarters and shut the door.
He eyed Win up and down, hands on his hips. “What are you doing here? How did you even get onto the property?” He didn’t wait for Win to answer before disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a cold, wet towel that he brought up to Win’s face.
Win snatched it from him with a wince. “Was killing that guy really necessary?”
“Is that what you want to talk about?” Mathieu stared at him.
“I’m just saying—”
“Win.”
Win rarely refrained from rolling his eyes. “I got in through the hole in the fence I’d been mentioning for ages.” He dabbed at his face. “Your guards were otherwise occupied, comparing which of their women gave the best head.”
Mathieu’s mouth twitched. “I’ll get rid of them and fix the hole.”
“Hmm.”
“Why didn’t you come through the front door? Or call me?”
“I called you.” Win shrugged. “Figured you were busy.” Fucking somebody. He didn’t say that part, but the way Mathieu’s eyes flashed told him the other man knew what he was thinking.
“What’s so important then?”
“We have a problem. A big one.”
Mathieu simply lifted an eyebrow and waited.
“Jairo got me a bodyguard.”
11
Mathieu hatedthat Win was hurt. Seeing the blood on the other man’s skin and clothes took Mathieu’s mind to places he didn’t want to go. The anger that vibrated through his body at seeing Win on the ground hadn’t left him yet.
