Page 71 of Untamed Protector

Lena sends him the picture of the car. “No worries. We’ll find something nice for your wife, some concert tickets. Ask her what she wants and let me know. I want to know if a car like this has been through customs in recent years. If you throw in an owner’s name, we’ll make your wife happy. You know I always settle my debts.”

She always does. That’s how Lena made connections in this city. This is the first time I’ve seen her work her magic, though. She’s one heck of a detective, that’s for sure.

“Stay here and don’t get lost. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” the guy says before disappearing.

We wait for twenty minutes, but no one shows up. Lena tries calling him, but he doesn’t pick up. “Lexi, I think we should go. Let’s head to a busier area. I didn’t like the way he suddenly acted differently when he saw that picture.”

Lena grabs my hand, and we rush back the way we came, heading to the front gate—the most crowded spot we’ve seen in the port.

“I thought you said you knew the guy,” I say, trying to contain my panic.

“I do, but if you ask strange questions or bring up touchy subjects, sources disappear, or they sell you out sometimes. That’s my worry right now.”

We reach the end of the road, close to the gate. Suddenly, three men appear from behind a building, blocking our way. One of them, all crisp suit and shiny badge, stands out, while the other two look like professional thugs. They stop just a few feet in front of us.

The suited guy flashes us a grin. “Well, well, where are you sweethearts off to?” he asks. Shivers run down my spine. This guy is huge, even in a suit. He looks mean, like a tough soldier with that buzz cut. His icy stare makes me want to shrink. He seems like the kind of guy who doesn’t get scared of anything and enjoys intimidating people for a living.

We stop, and Lena, brave as ever, steps up to the guy. My heart races as I slowly try to dig my phone out, praying for a signal so I can call the police while she keeps them talking. We’re stuck in this dead-end alley, alone with these creeps. They look like they could easily throw us in those containers and make us disappear. And judging by their stares, that’s exactly what they’re thinking.

“I’m a journalist,” Lena replies. “We’re doing research for my article. I’m working on a piece about the port.”

“Where’s your press badge and visitor pass?” the man in the suit asks, walking up to her.

“Who wants to know?” Lena answers without flinching.

“Vargas. Port Manager,” he replies, coming closer and shoving his badge in her face.

“How do I know it’s you? The badge has no picture.” Smart move, Lena. Maybe that will buy us a bit of time and show we’re not afraid to challenge them.

Vargas shoves the badge at Lena again, his jaw clenching. “And what exactly would satisfy you?” he asks, with a sleazy grin splashed all over his face. “You journalists are all the same. You just got to dig deeper, right?” The way he talks and looks at us makes my skin crawl.

“An ID with a photo and a name would be nice.” Huh, my Lena doesn’t scare easily.

Vargas turns to his goons and barks, “One of you better run back to my office and have my secretary give you a stamped document with a picture. Oh, and while you’re there, maybe ask my boss to give a statement saying that I work for him. Chop chop, we don’t want to get the journalist here all mad.”

The two guys stare at Vargas, confused. They look at each other, and then one of them slowly turns toward where Vargas pointed, unsure of what to do.

Before his goon can take a step, he barks, “Stay put. We’re not finished with these two sweethearts.” Vargas sizes Lena up, his eyes lingering on her boobs and hips. He continues to talk, his laughter cold and mocking. “Maybe we’ll bring them back to the office with us. You know, for a coffee. We don’t want anyone thinking we’re terrible hosts.”

I’m about to explode. My heart races like a drum solo, a mix of fear and excitement. I feel like we’re onto something huge, like we finally uncovered a secret. These guys showed up right after Lena’s contact dumped us. The car picture definitely triggered this. But getting out of here alive is more important than anything right now—before we end up in some container.

“I don’t think I like your attitude,” I shout with my phone in one hand. “I’m going to call the police right now and say we’re being harassed and threatened.”

“Be my guest,” he says, laughing. “Maybe I’ll walk you to the cops myself and file a complaint for trespassing.” Before I can react, his hand shoots out, grabbing mine like a vise. Pain explodes as he twists it, almost making me drop the phone. Lena lunges to grab his other hand, but one of his goons slams her back onto the rough ground, pinning her with his knee. Curses fly from her mouth as Vargas shoves me down, too, his hand like a steel trap on my shoulder. My hand feels like it’s on fire as he twists it harder, and I scream and drop the phone, collapsing to my knees.

“Vargas, you piece of shit. Get your fucking hands off my woman,” I hear Gabriel’s voice suddenly booming. Vargas turns around and loses his grip for a second. As I lie on the ground, I look up at him, and there it is, on the side of his neck—the same symbol from the car that slammed into Dad and me. I feel a rush of hatred and adrenaline take over my body, and with the last ounce of strength, I shove my head and shoulder into his groin as hard as I can. He crumples with a roar of pain, screaming, “Bitch!”

21

Gabriel

“You’re going to die here and now, just like I promised you some time ago, you bastard.” I’ve got my hands around Vargas’s throat. His eyes stare at me with pure terror, and I feel him fading away. I know I could strangle him with my bare hands.

Lexi’s down on her knees, screaming at me to stop. Mike yanks Lena away from one of the thugs, pounding him until he stops putting up a fight. The other guy bolted when I tackled Vargas, pinning him down with my knee on his chest until I heard the bone crack. I’ve broken his ribs before, but this time, I’ll break his neck.

“Gabriel, don’t kill him! I’m begging you,” Lexi cries desperately next to me. I loosen the choke around the bastard’s throat and look at her. She’s terrified, tears pouring down her face as she holds her wounded hand to her chest.

When I rushed over and saw him tormenting her, I knew he wouldn’t make it out alive for daring to hurt her. None of my usual cold, calculated tactics for protecting clients worked when I saw Lexi in danger, especially in the hands of a ruthless, sociopathic brute like Vargas.

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