Page 15 of Brutal Empire

I swallowed the lump that was beginning to form. There was no point in thinking of things that were out of my control, but the more I remembered, the more I hated myself.

How could I have been so weak?

I gripped the steering wheel tightly.

As soon as I landed in Mexico, I received a call from Daphne letting me know there had been a change of plans. She gave me a location and told me to get there as soon as possible.

Now I was on the road in the middle of nowhere, with a few weapons and a whole lotta cash. I didn’t know anything besides English, just a word here and there in Spanish, which led me to believe at some point, I’d probably taken a class. But the building that was coming up saidPolicia Federal, and it didn’t take a genius to realize what it meant.

Gideon had pulled me aside and said that money solved more problems than violence. So my plan was to pay these people off and get the person Daphne wanted to safety. If the police were as corrupt in Mexico as I’d heard, then it should not be a problem at all.

The building was old, with the concrete peeling. Rusted bars adorned the windows. It was probably one of the older buildings, and it was used to keep an eye on people who were trying to illegally cross the border.

Or maybe they were all the way out here for something much worse. When you lived through the things I had, nothing about humanity surprised you.

I parked the car, and as I opened the door to get out, I heard screams coming out of the building. My blood began to race, not in fear but in excitement. I rushed out of the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a small gun. Lodged between my pants and my waist was a hunting knife.

Going in blind was not ideal, but it was the only option I had. I couldn’t let Daphne down. This person was important to her, even if she refused to say it.

Slowly, I opened the door, and the first thing I saw was a puddle of blood. A gunshot went off, and I pressed myself to the wall immediately. I scanned the room but didn’t find anything.

I took another step, and my eyes widened when I saw the cause of the blood. A man lay on the floor. Blood was all around his face, down to his neck. A drinking cup was stuffed in his mouth. His eyes were wide open but now lifeless.

Another gunshot rang, followed by a maniacal laugh.

I rolled to a nearby desk. I tried not to think about the small space and instead focused on the sounds coming.

There had to be at least two more men. Another shot rang out but now that I was here, I could hear the direction of the blow, and it went to the opposite side, meaning the person who was shooting was on the defensive, going deeper into what I assumed was the cells.

I rose with caution. If the person was shooting at the man I was here to rescue, I had a chance to help them.

Something warm stirred in me. I was going to be useful. It was like I needed to prove my worth at every chance. To prove I had been worth saving.

With steady steps, I made my way deeper toward the cells. There indeed was a man. He was wearing fatigues. It was forest green and covered in dirt.

“Te voy a matar, hijo de puta.”

I didn’t know what he said, but it sounded like a curse. My steps were almost silent as I went across to the opposite wall, hoping he didn’t hear me. As I was making my way there, my eyes met with the man who had been on the file. It was just a second, but I knew he saw me, too, because his brows raised, and then he smiled at me, making two dimples subtly appear.

My master used to smile at me all the time, but every time he did, it was sinister with ill intent. He was perfectly polished and groomed, but his smiles were terrifying.

This man had the opposite effect.

His hair was darker in person than in the picture, his skin a bit golden from exposure to the sun. Stubble all around his mouth and up his cheeks. Blood shone against his white teeth, down his lips, and into his neck.

Then he began to move, and it took me a second to realize he was holding on to something, or rather someone.

The man across from me began to shoot, and Bastian Kingsley used the other body as a shield.

I was about to raise my gun at the other soldier, but just then, the man turned to me, and in a second, his gun was aimed at me. Before I could shoot,hespoke.

“He’s mine.”

His voice was hoarse but commanding.

I watched as the body he had used as a shield was thrown at the soldier in front of me. The man staggered.

Bastian was there in a flash. The first thing he did was remove the gun from the soldier and then the clip. The sound of metal hitting the floor echoed in the narrow hall.

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