Page 10 of Savage Hero

I’m even hoping she’s a little wet.

But instead, I find a goddamndick.

She barks out a rough laugh when I pull out my hand, my face contorting into a grimace. “What’s wrong, Papi? Didn’t find what you’re looking for? We can still have some fun, you know. All you gotta do is bend over that basin and I can—”

I backhand her. Her head flies to the side, her cheek pressed against the marble floor, but she doesn’t gasp. Doesn’t give me an ounce of satisfaction.

She fuckinglaughs.

So I search her. Roughly, quickly.

Cash. A shitty burner phone. No ID. But there’s a text on the phone, and when I read it, I have my answer.

“Nyx,” I say, shoving her phone into my pocket. “Would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but—”

She spits right in my fucking mouth. A warm, gooey mixture of blood and saliva drips down my chin. I leave it. Let it drip right back onto her blood-splattered face. And then I stand and throw open the door.

Nyx scrambles up behind me, but she doesn’t challenge me. Instead, she peeks over the side of the basin.

Now that I think about it, the baby hadn’t made a sound the entire time. Did I put her down too hard? Hit her tiny head? My stomach tightens, and I watch Nyx lean over and put her hands down. She croons, and the baby responds with a gurgle.

Tension leaves my body. At least, a tiny fraction of it does.

Nyx turns to face me when I step out the door and throws me another magnificent scowl as I start closing it. She wedges her foot in the jamb, a spark of defiance in her navy-blue eyes.

I could have forced the door closed, but I don’t want to deal with a broken foot right now.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asks.

I look at the baby girl and then back at her, my expression not changing. “We have five rottweilers. Kibble is expensive.”

Kicking her foot back inside the small room, I slam the door closed and lock it. The baby promptly starts wailing, but I’m already halfway down the hall.

Something she said comes back to me. I pause, turn on my heel, and slip into one of the villa’s three ground-level powder rooms. My face is set in its usual neutral mask, my clothes slightly rumpled, but undamaged. There’s a fan of blood from my nose to my jaw, and some of that blood splashed onto my white shirt.

I run a hand through my long, slightly disheveled black hair and that’s when I see it.

You’re hit.

My ear throbs faintly when I touch a fingertip against the blood-encrusted nick on my outer earlobe. There’s a trickle of dried blood running down my neck.

I let out a quiet huff of a laugh, wash my face and hands, and head upstairs to go meet with Vito.

Chapter Five

Nyx

This place stinks of wet fur and dog shampoo. But there’s no blood, and there’s stuff in here I can use to clean myself. Although it’s too quiet for my liking.

My ears are still ringing with machine gun fire.

When I put the baby down in the basin I assume is used to wash handbag-sized dogs, my hands start shaking.

I squeeze them. Shake them. Nothing helps.

For the first time in a year, I need a cigarette. And a bottle of tequila.

Make that two.

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