Then, he slipped a knife from his pocket. I almost missed the glint of metal as he slashed his arm in a wild arch, connecting with my lower ribs. I grabbed his wrist, shoving the blade away from me. The bloody knife was suspended between our bodies as we fought for control. With my jaw clenched, our arms locked together, moving back and forth in a tug of war punctuated by grunts, groans, and unintelligible curses.
“I’m going to kill you,” he snarled between grunts, his contorted face gleaming with sweat. His lips curled over his bloodied teeth like a wild animal. “Then I’m going after your woman.”
With his free hand, he swiped the side of my cheek, raking his fingernails down my face to my neck. I winced and softened my grip on him. He seized the moment. He lurched forward trying to sit up, bringing his face within striking distance of mine. Without a second thought, I whipped my head forward, slamming my forehead into the bridge of his nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurted out of his nose, spraying my face.
Enrique’s body went slack, and his head bounced like a basketball against the ground. His eyes rolled up in his head. I picked the knife off the grass, intending to carve a V in his cheek. I didn’t know if I’d let him live, but he branded Hattie so I’d brand him.
Just as I finished the first gash in his cheek, someone yanked on the collar of my vest.
“We have to get out of here now! The SUVs are waiting for us at the end of the driveway,” Rick said. “We’re running out of time. Eric intercepted a call for backup.”
“One more minute,” I answered without glancing over my shoulder. I needed to finish this. If Enrique lived, he’d wear the Vargas V for the rest of his life. If he died, his family wouldn’t want to have an open casket funeral.
My heart hammered inside my chest as I jabbed the tip of the knife into his cheek and slashed downward until the two lines intersected, perfecting the V. I wiped the handle of the knife on my pants and tossed it in the bushes next to the house.
I stood and kicked Enrique in the ribs. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I turned to Rick. Dumbfounded, he rubbed his hand across his mouth, his eyes wide.
“What crawled up your ass?” I snapped.
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
I started walking. “Are you coming?” I said as I glanced over my shoulder.
“Yeah, man.” He jogged to catch up with me, his gaze glued to the side of my face like he’d never seen me before.
“What?” I barked.
“With your background, I assumed you wouldn’t be as crazy as the rest of those cartel fuckers.”
“You shouldn’t assume anything. I’m a Vargas.” I shot him a bitter smile as I rounded the side of the SUV.
“Aren’t you going to finish that shit?” Rick asked, leaning his shoulder into the SUV.
“Finish what?”
“You need to kill that fucker or he’ll hunt you down and go after Hattie again.”
I spun around, eyeing Enrique’s huddled body. He had rolled to his side, curling into a ball with his hand pressed to his cheek. My need for revenge had fizzled marginally in the last few minutes, but then I remembered the look on Hattie’s face before Noah threw her over his shoulder. The way her body trembled and her eyes dilated scared the shit out of me. Her high-pitched cries would haunt me for years.
“You’re right.” I grabbed Rick’s gun from his hands, aimed and pulled the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I handed him the gun and flung open the driver’s side door. “Move. I’m driving.”
Eric eyed me guardedly, and then he nodded. “Whatever you want. This is your show,” he mumbled as he climbed into the passenger seat.
Chapter Eleven
Hattie
I pushed up, bracing my body on my elbows as my eyes scanned the darkness swallowing the room. The floorboards squeaked. A loud scream erupted from my mouth, ringing in ears. Arms circled around my waist. I swung my hands and my open palms connected with flesh. I curled my fingers into weapons, clawing at everything within my reach.
Someone pinned my arms to my sides. Short panting breaths exploded from my mouth. Fear crawled up my throat, suffocating me. My muscles stiffened, preparing for battle.
“Shh. It’s me. It’s Ryker,” he whispered next to my ear. “You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.”
I inhaled his familiar spicy sea scent, and the tension in my muscles evaporated. My heart slowed and my sluggish brain cleared. “Where am I?”
He didn’t say anything for a few drawn out seconds. Instead, he stroked the back of my head lazily as he hummed softly in my ear. “You’re in my room at my dad’s compound.”
As much as I hated the Vargas compound and everything it symbolized in my mind, relief zipped through my veins. I was safe here. Nothing would happen to me. Ryker would make sure of it. I cradled my head against his chest, savoring the moment. Savoring our connection. He rocked me back and forth silently. His strong, even heartbeat echoed in my ears, grounding me in the moment and away from the nightmare of the past few days.
“You should go back to sleep. You need your rest.” His fingertips slid down my sides, and the bed shifted as he stood.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be in the room next door if you need me.”
I gasped and held out my hands, reaching for him. “Wait. Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “You need your rest,” he repeated.
“I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here.”
“You did just fine without me. I’ll just get in your way.”
My brows furrowed as my mind scrambled to unravel his words. What was I missing? Something wasn’t right.
“No.” I shoved the sheets off my body. “Now that you’re here, I’m not letting you go again.”
“Hattie.” My name came out like a long drawn sigh.
“Ryker,” I responded in kind, kicking my legs over the side of the bed.
“When did you become so stubborn?” he mumbled more to himself than me.
I flipped on the light next to the bed. I searched his eyes for the glow of the affection I’d grown to love, but there was absolutely nothing. A blank void. A mask.
“What’s going on right now? Why are you running away from me? Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Of course not,” he said, his voice strained. His gaze bounced everywhere except on me.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” I grabbed his wrist. He glanced at the A Enrique burned into my arm, and then he looked away like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. I snorted. “You can’t be serious.”
“What?” he growled, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re right. You didn’t.” I dropped his arm and stood up. “You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” I shook my head. “I get it. Explanations aren’t needed.”
My legs wobbled from disuse and exhaustion as I walked to the bathroom. I lamented my fate, the last three months, meeting Ryker, dating Evan…everything. At that moment, I hated myself. I hated my life. Why did everyone use me and reject me?
“You don’t understand anything.”
“Uh huh. Whatever,” I mumbled.