Page 85 of Scarred Souls

“Don’t mind my cousin,” Hope said, giving me a stern look. “He has a severe personality disorder.”

“It’s true.” I took a drag. “I suffer extreme violent outbursts whenever people touch my things.”

Hope looked ready to find the shovel and take another swing at me. Enrique didn’t know where to cast his eyes.

To avoid an assault charge and aggravating Hope even more, I decided to give her some space, but I wouldn’t go inside and leave her alone.

“I’ll be watching from just over there.” I pointed toward the back porch and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the sky. That information was for Enrique in case he had any ideas about getting handsy with Hope. I met her unamused gaze next. “You’ve got five minutes, and then I need to talk to you inside.”

We had to discuss tonight’s meeting with la Mano Roja and the raft of problems it posed. I had plenty of time to fly to Puerto Escondido, but how could I keep Hope safe while I was gone?

Right now, I needed her away from this fuckboy. Jealousy burned through my veins, desperate for an outlet. I was done trying to justify my possessiveness over Hope. It wasn’t going away, no matter how much logic I tried to apply to our situation. We just had to deal with it.

Hope gave me a defiant glare, so I strode to the porch without waiting for her to tell me to go fuck myself, which I probably deserved.

Titan stood shifting on his feet behind the screen door, so I let him out. Then my canine buddy and I played a game of fetch, watching Hope shamelessly flirt with that pretty-boy dipshit.

Enrique clipped a tool belt around his waist and laughed at something Hope said. She curled her hair around one finger, and I swear to God, her hips swayed more than usual as the pair made their way toward the kennels. This was torture.

“She knows we’re watching.” Titan dropped the ball at my feet, and I gave his shiny black head a scratch. “Did you know your mom was this cruel?”

He smacked his jowls, and one of his brows twitched. Pretty sure that translated to You earned it, douchebag.

Couldn’t argue with him there.

31

VAUGHN

Ten minutes later, Hope ordered me inside, promising we’d talk more about la Mano Roja as soon as she’d showered. Apparently, sand had gotten inside her bra and panties when I’d tackled her to the ground, and it seemed to make her as cranky and irritable as when she skipped a meal.

While Hope was occupied in the bathroom, I ignored her firm instructions to leave Enrique alone and went outside to properly introduce myself. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and it was high time this fool and I had a chat, man-to-man. Not about the fentanyl-precursor chemical pickup. That investigation I’d handle covertly. I wanted to make sure he knew Hope was off-limits for a bottom-feeder like him.

But first, I made him nervous by smoking a cigarette on the back porch while watching him work. Then I casually made my way across the yard to the kennels and leaned my arm across the top of a nearby cage.

Enrique hammered nails into a timber frame on the concrete floor. He glanced my way briefly to mumble, “Hola.”

“Do you know who I am?”

He paused his hammering but didn’t take his eyes from the nail sticking out of the frame. “You’re Hope’s cousin.”

“I’m not her fucking cousin. You understand?”

Enrique stood and faced me, puffing his chest out like a cocky son of a bitch. “No, I don’t understand. Are you trying to say you’re her boyfriend? I’ve known her for years and she’s never mentioned you. I don’t think she even likes you.”

This wiseass picked the wrong day to get mouthy with me. Maybe it was a bad time to discuss his intentions for Hope, because I already wanted to drag him to the beach and hold him under the waves until he stopped fighting.

“Right.” I picked up a handsaw and measuring tape from the ground and tossed them into his toolbox. “Pack your shit up and leave. You don’t work here anymore.”

“Daphne is paying me. I don’t take orders from you.” Enrique’s grip tightened on the hammer. He held it in front of him as if it made him powerful, and as if he wanted me to feel threatened. I didn’t. But if he took a swing at me, it would give me a solid reason to kick his ass and definitely make this conversation more interesting.

“What are you going to do with that?” I jerked my chin toward the hammer.

He widened his stance. “Try something and find out.”

Well, well. I hadn’t thought the kid had it in him. Unfortunately for Enrique, he had more balls than brain cells, which was rarely a winning combination.

In a flash, I disarmed him and pinned him against the wire mesh with my forearm at his throat. Daisy, the old, deaf mixed breed in the cage beyond, didn’t rouse from her afternoon nap. Enrique, on the other hand, was as alert as a crackhead and seconds from shitting his jeans.

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