Page 49 of Saving Blood

When I don’t respond, he grins. “Just as I thought.” His beady reptilian eyes rake over me. “Just remember, no matter how you feel about him, you’re just a means to an end who he likes to fuck.”

I hate that Hector is right.

“Can’t say I blame him; after all, I know just how good you are, right?”

I swallow the bile threatening to rise in my throat.

He laughs again. “I’m actually looking forward to the shocked looks of those lowlife bikers when we break them.” He shrugs. “Blood will finally see you for who you are—a whore for the cartel, but don’t worry. You’ll have a spot fighting for me in our new location in Tijuana.”

I squeeze my eyes shut against his hateful words. I have to placate Hector now, get my passport from Blood, then tomorrow night, I’d follow my plan of escape. Only difference would be me losing a fight I could easily win, and ruining the only person who ever tried to help me.

Hector chokes out a low chuckle. “I just wonder what your biker would think if he knew I had you first. Many, many times.”

“Stop.”

“Why? Nothing I’m saying is untrue. I just don’t think he would want to hear it or would want anything to do with you anymore.” Hector cocks his head. “One thing I do know about outlaw bikers, although they fuck anything with a cunt, they don’t allow the same privilege for their women. Not fair, I know, but it’s fact. Frankly, I think he’d be disgusted if I told him.”

His words cut me like the sharpest knives. Thin, even slivers not meant to kill, just meant to maim.

“You have to ask yourself. Who do you think is more powerful? My backing with the cartel in my own country, or his support from a club in the States?”

“I told you I would do it.”

“Yes, I know what you said, but if you have any reservations, ask yourself another question. Who do you think is more ruthless?”

“Shut up.” The words fly out of my mouth.

Quick as a cobra, Hector wraps his hand around my throat, making my head hit the wall. “That was a mistake.”

I grapple with his wrists, but he presses harder. I shift my legs for leverage, but his body cages me in too tight. I gasp for breath as pinpoints of light flash before my eyes.

Relaxing my neck muscles, I tuck my chin, then slam my arms up and under his, spinning out of his hold, gasping in sweet air.

Hector rears away, his shock covered by a smarmy smile. “I guess you are in good fighting shape.”

Better than you, fucker. In another place and time, I could take your fat ass down without breaking a sweat.

I stumble away from him, but he grabs my arm, twists me around, and backhands me. “Just make sure you do as you’re told, because I guarantee you won’t like the consequences.”

My head spins at a dizzying speed, but I focus on his face. How I want to show him all my tricks, but that would be a death sentence.

Hector points to my cheek. “That will leave a mark, but you will blame it on a mishap while training, correct?”

I angle my head and glare at him. “I hate you.”

“I know; that’s what makes it so perfect.”

21

BLOOD

The gym usually buzzes with energy the day before a big fight. Today it is all that on steroids, so I duck into my office to make the call to Ricky.

After two rings, he picks up. “Hey, Blood, what’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

Ricky, our club secretary, knows every pickpocket, thief, con-man and forger in Tijuana. Perfect secretary for an outlaw biker club.

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