Page 54 of Devoured By Demons

“Zain Lennox. What a pleasure to formally meet you,” Manuel says, and fuck, I want to punch that smirk off his smug, ugly face.

“Drop your weapons,” Juan says. “All of them.”

Keeping my eyes fixed on Santos, I let my gun slip from my grip and hit the carpeted floor with a thud. When I reach for my second gun, Juan nods toward me. “Slowly,” he says, as I feel the butt of someone else’s gun against the back of my head.Fuck!

“The knife,” another one of Santos’ goons says.

Narrowing my eyes at the unshaven, dirty looking bastard, I reach down for my knife, tug it from the sheath at my ankle, and toss it on the floor where it lands in front of Liam’s bare feet.

Manuel’s smile is wide when I’m finally stripped of my weapons.

From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Liam dropping his gaze to look down at the knife just inches from his—stupid on their part—unbound feet.

Manuel Santos currently has the upper hand, and I’m now his bitch.

And fuck, if that doesn’t remind me of Dom Lopez and how much I fucking hated that rat bastard.

Manuel steps forward, one hand on Isadora’s shoulder, the other on Liam’s. He locks eyes with me. “Sara, that was her name, wasn’t it? If memory serves, she loved having those tight holes filled by my men.” His smirk tips my anger to boiling point and without a second thought, I lunge for Santos.

Before I can get my hands around his throat, I’m stopped by two massive men with arms the size of tree trunks. They pull me back while I lash out, kicking and fighting against their hold. While they’re distracted, I watch Liam use his foot to drag my knife toward him.

When Juan’s gun is pointed at my head, I freeze and watch in shock as Manuel Santos escapes through a doorway that was hidden behind a bookcase.

“Take them to the basement, wait for your orders there,” Juan commands before he takes off after Santos.

Shattering glass from downstairs catches my attention. The goon closest to the door takes off toward the stairs. The other one looks over his shoulder. By the time he turns back, it’s too late for him. Liam is free from his restraints and with my knife tight in his fist, he lunges at the man. With one swift movement, the blade of my knife slices across the man’s throat, his blood splattering across Liam’s face and chest.

He swipes his forearm across his face, smearing the blood as he smiles. “You good, D?” he asks as he kneels at Isadora’s back and gets to work untying her.

“Fuck,” I say, realising I’m standing here doing fuck all.

I reach down and gather my guns. Holstering one, I keep the other tight in my grip as the sounds of gunshots and voices come from the staircase.

One of those voices belonging to fucking Priest.

I turn my attention to Liam who’s helping a panicking Isadora to her feet.

“You fucking called him?” I shout. “Are you insane! They were supposed to stay out of this!” I pace back and forth. “Goddamn you, Liam! They’ve got too much to live for!”

Liam, calm as a fuckin’ clam, rummages through a drawer and finds a couple t-shirts. He hands one to Isadora who pulls it on quickly, then he does the same. He stands to his full height, ignoring my attitude, and says, “You’d be dead right now if I didn’t, so you’re welcome. Now, quit your fucking moaning and go find Santos. Put an extra fucking bullet in his head from me.”

I nod, a silent promise that I’ll do it. If I could, I’d fill the bastard with bullets… one for every girl whose life has been ruined by the Santos name.

I’m pulled from my murderous thoughts when my brothers rush into the room.

Ignoring the guys, Liam starts out the door. “I’ll distract the guards,” he says. “Do what you have to do, D. I’ll see you on the other side.” With that, Liam races down the wide staircase and out the front door, searching for his next kill.

“I assume that’s Liam,” Priest says, tone clipped.

I ignore Priest’s irritated stare as I shift my attention to Isadora where she’s sitting on the edge of the chair, rubbing her reddened wrists. I brush her hair back off her face, my fingers burying themselves in her long, dark strands before leaning down and pressing my forehead to hers. “You okay, baby?” I ask.

She nods, but her eyes dart to the door Liam just disappeared through and her lips quiver when she says, “He—Liam, he killed… God, he killed so many of them. I—I think he planned this.”

I huff out a laugh, not the least bit surprised. “He did, sweetheart,” I say, knowing. “But it’s not what you’re thinkin’.He’s one of the good guys, okay? I promise. Asshole couldn’t stand not being included and brought you along for the ride.”

Much later when we aren’t in imminent danger, Liam and I will be having words about how I feel about him putting Isa in danger. Pretty sure it’ll be considered sign language since those words will be in the form of my fist in his face.

Isa looks up at me, and knowing my brothers have our back, I give myself a moment to get lost in her deep brown eyes.

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