by Nicole Casey
She tried to jerk away from him, but he pushed the gun harder against her temple and she went still.
Good girl, I thought, begging her with my eyes to just stay still.
“Take me. You know you want it. And you know the second you kill her, you’re a dead man.”
“Like I said, it’s an interesting proposition, Derek.”
He let up on her a little and I immediately had to wonder why. What was he up to?
“But what are you going to offer me for this one?”
A woman tumbled out of the car, followed by a big, burly hulk of a man. How he’d even fit in the damn car, I didn’t know.
But the woman. Her eyes weren’t empty like the last time I’d seen them. Red hair. Her face older, but so similar to Scar’s.
Alicia.
What the fuck was Lopez doing with Alicia Ramos?
“He’s good at finding things,” Michael’s hoarse voice spoke from somewhere behind me. “That’s what you’re renowned for, isn’t it? Anything in the world, Mateo Lopez can find.”
“When it serves my interests. Unfortunately, when you came to me, Michael, finding your wife wasn’t worth my while.”
Michael growled, but his eyes were fixed on Alicia. There was a good chance he wasn’t thinking clearly—not that I could blame him.
“After seeing Derek’s little pet though, well, I’ve always been a collector of sorts. It’s really too bad Garcia had arranged the car accident that killed your pet’s mother, Derek. What a collection that would have been, wouldn’t you say?”
Scar was looking at me, but she wasn’t just looking. She was trying to tell me something. Her eyes met mine, then dropped to the ground in front of her, then back to me. Then again. Yeah, I got the message. She was incredible. Now, I just had to do my part.
I took a menacing step forward to draw Lopez back to his current predicament. His grip on Scar tightened and he smiled menacingly.
I took another step.
“That’s far enough. I think you’ll have a fine view right there.”
He lifted his hand and pressed down on Scar’s shoulder. “On your knees, slave. You have three murdered men to atone for, and you’re going to start right now.”
She struggled, but I could tell it was fake, and eventually, she went down to the ground. Lopez lowered his gun long enough to unzip his fly, but it was all I needed. I took aim and fired a bullet right through the wrist of the hand holding the gun. Even when he fired reflexively, his gun was pointed away from Scar.
At the same time, she reached for the gun he had concealed at his ankle and fired into his knee without hesitation. Fucking incredible.
He stumbled back against the car at the same time I shot the man holding Alicia, straight into his head. It was unnecessary though. A bullet from Michael’s gun lodged into the man’s chest, straight through his heart, and he fell to the ground, lifeless.
Scar scrambled away from Lopez, toward Alicia. Michael was there with them a second later, but this wasn’t finished.
I reached for the long, menacing knife between my shoulder blades. I envisioned cutting Lopez up into tiny pieces, starting with the pieces that wouldn’t kill him right away and working toward his vital organs. But the thirst for blood didn’t compete with the need to hold her, to feel her in my arms and know that she was finally, truly safe.
Lopez was trying to scramble back and up into the car as I approached, but he was too slow—not that it would have mattered anyway. I reached down when I loomed over him, lifted him up by his hair, and slashed the knife across his neck. Blood spurted and he made a gurgling noise in his throat. And then, in the blink of an eye, he was dead.
It was over. She was safe.
I dropped the knife, turned toward her, and then she was in my arms. Alive. Safe. A sob wracked my chest, but I forced it down and focused on the warmth of her body, her heart beating against my chest and the softness of her lips beneath mine.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. I couldn’t let you die,” she whimpered against my lips. “I couldn’t let you die.”
I remembered what Lopez had said about the three men he’d planted here ahead of time. Foolish or not, I hadn’t been expecting them. And that made me wonder…had she saved my life?
She’d already saved me in so many ways. How the hell was I supposed to repay that debt? I had no clue, but I was going to spend the rest of my life trying.
“Where have you been, mi querida?” I heard Michael whispering to Alicia.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “The man who took me, he said you were dead. He said he killed you, and I believed him.”
My gaze went to the corner where the guy was still cowering to try to give Michael and Alicia a quasi-private moment. Tears were streaming down Michael’s cheeks, and I figured that was probably something a guy didn’t want another guy to see.
But what was I supposed to do with the bundle of nervous energy in the corner? He was a loose end. Six months ago, I would have slit his throat or put a bullet in his brain without a second’s thought. I didn’t want to be that monster anymore.
“He’s that man’s son,” Scar whispered, pointing to the worthless lump of flesh who had been holding Alicia. “The man kept hitting him because he wouldn’t…help.”
All right, that was a point in the guy’s favor, but there was one more thing I needed to know. “Did he touch you, Scar?” I didn’t give a fuck how many times the guy’s father had hit him; if he’d hurt or violated her in any way, he was dead.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Come here, kid,” I yelled over to him. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to do with him yet, but I had to do something.
He stood up and approached cautiously, though his eyes darted around the room, probably searching for a way out. The guy had no fucking idea how lucky he was.
He stopped a couple yards away. “I didn’t…I didn’t do that, Senor,” he said, nodding toward Scar. “I no want to be here, si?”
“The only reason I’m letting you live is because you didn’t hurt her. Do you understand?”
Surprise lit his dark eyes as he nodded vigorously. “Si, I understand, Senor. I no hurt her.”
“Money? Do you have money?”
He scrambled into his pockets and held out a handful of coins, thinking I was…what?—going to let him live for the five bucks he had? He wasn’t the brightest, was he? It did help answer my question though—the guy had nothing.
The most ridiculous idea of my life came to me then. But hell, I decided to run with it. I was turning over a new leaf—and this guy was about to come along for the ride.
“You’re coming with us. You work for me now. A job. Money. A real future—but on one condition.”
The guy’s eyes were as big as saucers. I wanted to laugh, but I held it back.
“Si, Senor. Condition, si.”
“If you ever hurt these women, or do anything your father did—to anyone—I’ll kill you. Understand?”
More vigorous nodding and his expression was…happy. It felt good to know I was the reason for it. Strange as hell, but good.
And now I had my own full-time employee. For what, I had no fucking idea, but the way Scar was smiling up at me for what I’d just done for the guy made it more than worth it. I’d figure out something for him to do…I never could garden worth shit.
Scar would like nice gardens, I thought. And if, in between gardens, the guy happened to devote himself to making sure Scar was always safe…well, who the fuck could argue with that arrangement?
Epilogue
Scarlett
I woke with a start and bolted upright in bed. Derek was already awake too, staring up at me through sleep-bleary eyes. He needed rest, I decided, but before I could swing my legs over the side of the bed, he was already up, padding barefoot across the room in all his naked glory.
His footsteps fell silently on the plush carpet, though I finally knew why this was the only room with carpeting.
He’d told me that during the years he’d spend locked in his foster family’s basement, the ground had been hard as rock and cold as ice. As ridiculous as he still thought it was, he used to dream about waking up in his old home, getting up in the morning and feeling the soft, thick carpet beneath his bare feet. It was a small dream, but he’d vowed that if he ever got out of there, he’d never get out of bed and feel the bite of a cold floor ever again.
I still ached for the boy who’d been trapped in that basement, but I was so glad to know he would never feel that biting cold—in his feet or in his heart—ever again.
“Do you want me to try walking with him for a little while so you can get some sleep?” he asked as he lifted our son from his bassinet and cradled him in his arms.
Our son. Michael—our beautiful, baby boy with dark hair and vivid blue eyes. Just like his father’s.
Even before Michael was born, I’d come to realize Derek would love him no matter what. He would love the child I’d carried inside me because he was a part of me. The day he was born though, I knew life couldn’t possibly get any more perfect. We’d been through so much, but as I lay there—in the top maternal care ward in the country—staring at the two most important people in the world, I’d known it was more than worth it.
“I’ll take him,” I said, lowering my nightgown to my waist.
He placed Michael in my outstretched arms and then sat down on the bed in front of me as I put our son to my breast. Derek trailed a finger along the side of my other breast as he watched Michael latch onto my nipple.
“Our son seems to be occupying these a great deal of the time,” he whispered.
“I suppose I’ll just have to make it up to you, won’t I?”
Heat flared in his eyes and I felt a corresponding heat ignite between my thighs.
“Don’t worry, Scar. I’ve had plenty of time to think about all the ways you can make it up to me.”
A shiver of anticipation rippled through my body. I couldn’t wait to see what he had in mind…for now and for the rest of our lives.
- THE END -
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