“Watch your tongue. I expect respect. You belong to me now.”
“Never,” she yelled and tried to run. He snagged her arm as she passed and he lifted her up into the air. He shook her like a rag doll, as she kicked and screamed. “Let go of me. I hate you. I’ll never go anywhere with you.”
He shoved her down to the floor and kicked her repeatedly in the thighs and calves. She cried out in pain, feeling the tender flesh explode like it was on fire from the pain, spasms worse than Charley horses going through her limbs.
“Stop. Oh, God, stop,” she cried, and she couldn’t move. His strikes had crippled her.
He grabbed her hair and turned her head so she would look up at him.
“You see these, bitch? This is your brother. This is what he looked like when I killed him.”
He made her look. He pressed his thumbs to her eyes, forcing her to keep them open and look at the pictures. She felt like vomiting. Michael’s bruised, bloodied face, his body torn and filled with knife marks and bullet wounds. Oh, God, this is why the men insisted there be a closed coffin. They knew he was tortured and killed like this. They were trying to protect me.
“I’ll do this to those men, his team. I’ll get them all and have them tortured and killed.”
She shook her head as she cried. Then it hit her.
“You killed him. I thought Eduardo DeLacruz did. Why would you—”
He smiled.
“The thing about having so many aliases is that no one can ever figure out who you are or how to find you, never mind catch you. Now, get up, Mariah. We’re leaving the country. I’m taking you with me as a sign to those men, that Eduardo DeLacruz will never be caught.”
Mariah cried out as he pulled her up to her feet. A million thoughts went through her mind. The pain in her thighs and calves, her cheekbone, the pictures she’d seen of Michael, and the fact that Armando was Eduardo DeLacruz. She would rathe
r die here, right now, than be taken away by him. This is what she had hoped for in her continued training, and in her motivation to get her education in the finance world. She’d wanted to find Eduardo DeLacruz. She wanted to identify him, and know the man who’d killed and tortured her brother.
He reached for her and she shoved away from him.
“I’m not going. I won’t go anywhere with you.”
He backhanded her across the mouth and then shoved her against the dresser. She pushed back at him and started to run when he tackled her to the ground. She scrambled on her knees as he swung at her. Mariah turned around and jumped at him. She started swinging and hitting him. She was screaming as they tumbled to the rug and he rolled on top of her. She thought she heard yelling, then gunshots. She was reaching behind Armando, her fingers on the gun, as he looked up, as if he’d heard the shots too. She was crying, shaking with fear and anger as she made the move. She pulled the gun from his holster and he rolled back onto her making her lose her breath and fire the weapon. She screamed as he fought her for the gun. A knee to his groin and he lifted up, giving her the opportunity she needed to scoot back and escape. The man who’d killed her brother was going to kill her.
She maneuvered the weapon lower. She didn’t know where it was pointed or even if it was against her as he head butted her mouth. She pulled the trigger as the door burst open and people were yelling. She looked at Armando as his eyes widened in shock.
Someone was pulling him off of her. It was L.T. and then there was Axel, Deacon, and Quentin.
“Oh, God. Holy shit, baby. Holy shit,” Deacon said. “Let go of the gun, honey. We’ve got you. He’s done,” Axel whispered, trying to take the gun from her hands. She couldn’t let go. She looked to where L.T. was and saw the blood oozing from Armando’s stomach. He was making gurgling sounds and agents were around him.
“He’s Eduardo DeLacruz. Armando is him. He killed Michael,” she cried as Axel took the gun from her hands and handed it up to one of the agents.
“It’s okay, baby. We know. We got you. Everything is going to be okay now,” he whispered.
“You did good, Mariah. You did really good,” Quentin said as Deacon pulled her into his arms and hugged her.
“It’s over,” L.T. whispered and she looked toward Armando. She heard the agent say that he was dead, and then two others checked his pulse and confirmed it.
They all looked at her and followed her line of sight at Armando’s dead body.
“Now it’s over. He can’t hurt another soldier ever again.”
Chapter 14
L.T. nodded his head toward Quentin as he carried Mariah from the SUV. It had been a long night, and the doctors at the hospital had released her after she declined remaining there overnight. They were all worried about her condition, both physically and mentally. In her state of exhaustion, she took the time to really think about the men, their actions, and the expressions of their care for her.
L.T. was their lieutenant in the service. He continued that role and probably always would. Quentin, Deacon, and Axel seemed to find peace in that bit of consistency in their lives. She got that now, but each man had his own sense of authority and dominance. It’s what drew her to them, as individuals and as a whole. L.T.’s commanding personality, hard expression, and need to maintain a leadership role reminded her of Michael. Michael had always been able to confide in L.T., and she wondered if it was because he had been more of a father figure despite the close proximity in their ages?
She glanced at Deacon as he carried the files and things that were handed to them from the hospital. He was quiet, organized, consistent, and very calm. Even during that intense situation, Deacon had remained calm.