Page 20 of Ravaged Hearts

There were already five weapons trained on me. The wielders weren’t anything like the untested youths I’d sent packing a week ago. Their hands were steady and their stances relaxed. These men were blooded and wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if I so much as sneezed.

With Hope following, I strutted into the restaurant as if I owned the place. Nothing threw people like swagger. It made them wonder why you were so confident. What did you know that they didn’t? In this case, a fuck of a lot.

They didn’t know my skills. They didn’t know my passion for eliminating oxygen thieves like them. And they didn’t know the lengths I’d go to to protect Hope.

“No te acerques más.”Don’t come any closer,said the forty-something man seated at the table. I assumed he was the butt-hurt Papa Bear I’d spoken to earlier. He leaned back in his chair, showing me the Desert Eagle tucked into the front of his waistband.

I paused and raised my palms. “There’s no need for hostility. We’re on the same team.”

“Oh yeah?” He stroked his gray-streaked beard. “And whose team is that?”

“I move product for la Mano Roja. In fact, I’ve just come from a meeting with el Capitán. Miguel is an old friend of mine, and I can guarantee you he’ll be very unhappy to hear that the PCC is giving one of his pilots grief over a minor disagreement.” I pointed to the phone in my front pocket. “His number is in my contacts.”

Papa Bear’s dark eyes raked over me, perhaps deciding if I was telling the truth. “Lay your weapons behind the bar.”

There was a fifty-fifty chance that if I pulled my Glocks and started firing, I could kill every one of these assholes in the next two seconds. But standing here in the middle of the restaurant meant I was exposed, and so was Hope. I wouldn’t risk her getting shot. So I leaned over the bar to stow my pistols, hoping I could talk our way out of this mess. As I did, I spotted a woman’s body sprawled before the low refrigerator. Slight frame. Dark hair matted in the pool of blood surrounding her skull. It was Mari.

Fuck.

Beside me, Hope made a pained whimper when she noticed her friend. I gave a sharp shake of my head, urging her not to react.

With my weapons off-loaded, the goons lowered theirs.

Mistake number one.

“Sit.” Papa Bear kicked out the empty chair opposite him.

“Stay here, Gatita.” I pointed to the stool at the end of the bar. If shit got crazy, it would give Hope the fastest route to take cover behind the counter.

I made my way to Papa Bear at a leisurely pace and slumped into the chair he’d offered. Without asking, I snatched up the pack of Marlboros on the table, removed a cigarette, and lit it.

Menthol. Disgusting.

Papa Bear’s eye twitched. “You sidelined four of my men.”

Men? They were overgrown teenagers.

I clicked my tongue and slung my arm over the backrest. “I did you a favor.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Those kids are green as fuck. They came in here being little pricks. All I did was teach them a lesson. Maybe it’ll toughen them up.”

“My boy’s shoulder is ruined. He needs surgery.” His tone rose at my insolence.

I shrugged because I didn’t give a shit about his brat of a kid. “Yeah, but I could’ve killed them all.”

Papa Bear sneered, and I supposed that was his way of conceding my point. “I want compensation.”

I inhaled another drag. “How much?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “This debt needs to be paid in blood.”

“Come on, man.” I blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “You killed the girl. You’ve gotten the blood you came for.”

From the corner of the room, a hostage sobbed, but I didn’t look away from the fool before me.

He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “She wasn’t the one who stabbed my son.”

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