I moved on pure instinct, shoving my lips to her ear while I went for my gun. Hoped I wouldn't have to shoot her. Letting 'em know I had it was usually plenty for intimidation. Fucks only got shot when they tried to run, or whenever a senior brother ordered cleanup.
“Don't. You fucking scream, I'll have to put a bullet in your spine.” Brushing my gun along her back, I let it sink in for a few more seconds before I drove it home. “Just go where I tell you, and this'll all be over, nice and quick. Nobody has to get hurt.”
Hoped like hell the last part was true. Her father was a piece of shit rat, and rats always suffered, including their associates by blood or brotherhood. But fuck, these girls were young.
The woman in my grip could've been fresh new * for the clubhouse if she were a little more worn down, a little more desperate...
I tried to keep my cock under control as I led her downstairs. In the dim light, she was pretty fucking hot. So sexy I didn't give a shit when her bright eyes flashed pure venom my way.
Having my hands on her wasn't helping the situation. It was rare to see a girl who had everything going for her, and this chick had it in fucking spades.
I watched it. I felt it. And then I started losing my mind, eyeing her as we walked, sliding my hands across her body with way more interest than any good captor should have.
Those hips, full and lush, perfect for grabbing onto while I drove my dick all the way to her womb. And those tits, perfectly flanked by loose strands of chestnut hair?
Shit! I had to nudge her downstairs fast just to get my hands off her. One more second too close to those ripe handfuls and I wouldn't have been able to resist. I'd have copped a feel so tight she'd be screaming, threatening our whole operation, and then my brothers would be beating my ass.
But fuck...just looking at her ass wiggling down the stairs ahead of me, I had to wonder if she was worth an ass kicking or two.
Serial had her little sister in his arms. I took my place on the other side of the room, putting several badly needed feet between us.
The old man started his spiel. Nobody had a clue where they'd hidden the cartel's stash, and we weren't going anywhere 'til we had it. Hopefully, working them over would go a lot more smooth and easy than Jose – they were too pretty and innocent to survive half the shit the brothers gave the Mexican.
Blackjack lit a fresh smoke and paced around her, circling the girl like a shark.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I, for one, don't like spilling blood when there's no good reason, but some of the brothers feel differently. Now, we know your loot's not where it was supposed to be – found this shit all torn up myself.” He pointed at the torn up mess of cardboard and shingles on the ground.
Odd fucking combination, but it was what the dead Mexican said he'd hid the cartel cash in.
Her sweet red lips stayed shut. His threats kept coming, tough as leather and cold as the arctic. Still, she didn't move, staring over his shoulder at me instead.
Me. Why fucking me? It was like the girl was reading my mind, x-raying through my skull and seeing all the dirty, nasty, downright degenerate things I wanted to do to her.
“Look we both know me and my boys are gonna find it. Only question left is – are you gonna make this scavenger hunt easy-peasy-punkin-squeezy? Or are you gonna make all our fucking ears ring while we choke it out of you??”
I recognized that prickly tone in Blackjack's voice. Shit, if this beauty didn't spill her guts soon, the Enforcer was gonna go ape and squeeze it outta her, just like he promised.
“Well?”
It was his last warning. And she wouldn't talk, pinching her sweet lips together. I watched 'em turn white, hating how they resembled a corpse's mouth as the life drained away.
Blackjack threw his cig down and stubbed it out with one boot. Then he grabbed her, forcing his fingers around her throat. Little sister screamed into Serial's hand, starting to kick and thrash. He swore, growling as he tightened his hold on her.
So, both these girls were fighters. Sisters, maybe, sharing the same wildcat blood.
I took a step closer, hating Blackjack for throwing her up against the laundry machine, one more pinch away from seriously choking her. The chick gasped for air, sputtering as she clawed at his ruthless hand.
“Okay! Just get off me...let me breathe.”
Snarling, Blackjack gave her a little space. When she sat up again, rubbing her neck, her eyes went straight to me. I tensed up. Having those wide perfect eyes glowing so helplessly in front of me just fed the crazy ass protective urge swelling in my chest.
Fuck, crazy didn't begin to describe it. Wanting to fight my own brothers for a babe I'd only seen for the first time five minutes ago was certifiably insane.
“It's upstairs. Underneath my bed a suitcase. Pull it out and count everything down to the dollar if you want – it's all there. Go ahead and kill me if I'm lying.”