Christos flares his nostrils and slams his palm to the table. “Fuck no.”
“We can share,” I tease, dodging out of the way.
“Christos, Esteban! Grab your shit. Leandro, load up. Stacia’s coming with us. I swear to God if anyone sees her or shit happens, I’ll take all your heads for not helping me. You dicks.”
Tipping my head back, I laugh. “I’m definitely in love.”
I stroll past Leandro and Talon in the hallway and head to the garage. Stacia sits in the front seat of the Astin Martin SUV, her lips curled with her pride. Cracking the window, she stretches up to speak to me. “How mad is he?”
“Pissed, but it’s fine, mamacita. Open the door. I’ll drive.” I jog around the hood and wait for her to unlock the idling vehicle. I slide behind the wheel and reach out, touching her knee. “They don’t give you enough credit. Big bad protectors. What Talon should be more concerned with is ensuring you can take care of yourself.”
“If you can convince him that, I’ll kiss you,” she says, refusing to meet my gaze. She stares at the others getting ready to enter the garage.
“Don’t think I won’t do it. It might not be fair to you, though. I’m fucking sure he doesn’t need convincing now.” I motion to Talon, who stops at the backdoor, not even attempting to make either of us move.
But Leandro does, tapping his finger to her window. “Climb in back and put on these,” he says, handing her a hoodie and sunglasses through the window.
“So this is happening?” Stacia asks, plopping down between Talon and Christos. “You’re going to stop keeping shit from me?”
Talon dips his chin. “Like I had a choice.” He smacks the driver’s seat. “Drive, Knave. We’ve already wasted enough fucking time.”
“Please, where are you taking me? I haven’t done anything wrong,” Bradley Thomas says, digging his fingers into his knees. The guy made it easy for us to pick him up, not even looking around on his walk from his apartment to the corner liquor store.
I glance at him in the rearview mirror, sitting in the middle of the backseat with a bag over his head. Stacia sits on Talon’s lap, while Christos holds his gun to the man’s chest.
“Like hell you didn’t. We’re going to cut your fucking dick off. We don’t take kindly to rapists. You made a huge fucking mistake coming into our home and slipping drugs to unsuspecting women.” Christos is the only one who speaks, lowering his voice to help obscure it.
“What! No. No. I haven’t done anything. I’m not a fucking rapist. Any woman I’ve slept with wanted it. Who the fuck told you that? I don’t even do drugs.” Bradley tries to thrash, only to have Christos grab the bag tighter. He yanks it up to the man’s nose and shoves the gun in his mouth deep enough to make him gag. Freezing, Bradley stops fighting, realizing he could lose his fucking head.
“Just shut up. We have evidence. But don’t worry, asshole. If you can give us what we need, we will go easy on you.” Christos pulls the gun from the man’s mouth and clicks his seatbelt. “Now we’re getting out. Don’t you fucking make a sound. If you do, I’ll stab you in the nuts. You can live without those.”
Bradley trembles in the seat, shaking with his fear. He doesn’t argue or risk going against Christos’s instructions. Opening his door, Talon slides off the seat with Stacia, setting her on her feet outside the vehicle. Leandro fills the space on her other side, sandwiching her between them as if anyone would dare mess with us. No one would risk coming into my complex without notice. This is off-limits to anyone outside of my business, and the locals know better. I made it clear the moment I took over this territory on behalf of St. Germaine. He wanted someone from within the Society of Secrets, and he’s been friends with my dad a long time. He knew it was better to have me expand the business rather than take over.
I don’t show mercy. I’ve worked hard, making people fear me. It won’t stop now.
“Just walk straight.” Christos shoves the guy, making him stumble.
I catch him by the back of his shirt and pull him against my chest. He smells of rum and regrets, his odor enough to overpower the musk of the concrete around us. I guide the man to the metal door and use my phone to unlock it.
I yank the bag from his head and keep him in front of me, guiding him down the stairs. He sniffles and sobs. The second we clear the landing, and he realizes this could be the last place he ever sees, he tries to fight, full-blown crying.
“Please, don’t do this. I’m not a bad man. I swear. I have a family.” He wheezes with his words, digging his shoes into the slick floor with a drain in the center.
“Stop fucking lying. I know who you are, Bradley. You have a mom in an elderly care home that you’re waiting on to die so you can inherit her money. You haven’t visited her in three years, nor have you called her on more than just her birthday. I’m pretty sure she won’t be missing you since you already act like she doesn’t exist.” Christos adjusts his mask, hiding his features. He takes over for me, not letting the man see my face as I take another mask and put it over my head, the full-face cover, hopefully, scary enough to leave this man a mess.
Stacia catches my attention from the corner of the room where she watches with wide eyes and Leandro trying to block her. Talon hands them both masks before putting on his own, and I help Christos restrain the man in a metal chair bolted to the floor.
I wonder if this might be too much for Stacia, because her complexion pales as she stares around my chamber. Leandro grips her, practically holding her up. I’d be lying if I said I’ve never tortured anyone, and I think she knows as much. I wonder how this whole thing will affect her. There’s a reason Talon wanted to keep her out of things, but I’m pretty damn sure there’s also a reason why he gave in and let her tag along. He wants to show her exactly who we are and what we have to do. He wants to teach her a silent lesson, so she doesn’t ask again. Is it fucked up? Maybe. On the other hand, it’s smart. But I think Talon underestimates her. From what I know of her now, she’s tough as shit despite looking fragile. She just has to get past the shock.
If anything, this will desensitize her. She will come away from this stronger. Maybe even more willing to participate in getting shit done. I’ve only ever known her as the party girl and heiress of St. Germaine.
I’d like to see who she truly is.
“Please, what do you want?” Bradley wiggles his arms, testing the restraints.
“We want your dealer, pendejo. The asshole sold on my territory. I want his fucking name.” I reach into my jacket and pull out my blade, flipping the switch. I’ll start small for now, but I have a whole collection of knives hidden in one of the cabinets, my favorite being, mi abuelo’s machete. It was the first weapon I put in this room. I can’t wait to christen the space with a bloody sacrifice, especially someone like Bradley.
“What are you talking about? I told you I don’t do drugs.” Bradley grinds his teeth, keeping his eyes on my weapon.