Page 60 of Guarding The Phoenix: Vol. 1

The hack is fixed. But the fucker is good. I’ve rarely come across another hacker who could outwit me.

That’s how that fucker got through?

Mateo:

Yep. By hacking my system.

Damn. Mike checked out Kylie. He found nothing serious. He gave her some pain medicine and prescription strength ibuprofen.

Chase:

Thank fuck. You stay with her and don’t let her out of your sight. Gideon’s taking care of her assailant.

My hands flexed. How I wished I could dish out a few hard jabs to that asshole’s jaw myself.

Understood. We’re in the living room. I’m going to keep her out here. And from here on out, we don’t leave her alone for one second.

Chase and Mateo responded with an agreed. I was certain Gideon would agree too once he finished interrogating the assailant.

“Angel, I’m going to get something for you to eat so you can take the medicine. Hold the ice pack on your neck for me. And I’ll be right back.” Something that would soothe her throat, too.

She offered me a small smile. But her eyes were still glassy. Fuck. She needed to cry it out but was holding herself back. Likely from the years she spent being abused by her husband. If that sadistic fucker wasn’t dead already, I’d kill him myself.

And I vowed, if Gideon didn’t eliminate the assailant who choked her tonight, I would.

***

Gideon

As furious as I was at this motherfucker for touching Kylie. I knew he had done it under Santos’s order. We needed to know what his next move would be. It felt like we were exposed. That we were the mouse, and he was the cat just playing with us, biding his time, batting us around until he went in for the kill.

I wouldn’t allow that to happen to Kylie.

Yanking my knife from his crotch. He screamed in horror at having his dick sliced in half. Not that I blamed him at all. I was sure it was horribly painful.

Grabbing a small washcloth, I yanked his head back while he wailed, and shoved the cloth in his mouth. Then I walked over to the nearby sink and grabbed the bucket underneath. I filled it all the way to the top.

There’s more the one way to waterboard someone.

Once the bucket was full. I sauntered over. Tilting his head back, I pinched his nose, restricting his ability to breathe. Then, in a slow and steady stream, poured water over his mouth. He sputtered and struggled against me. But with the cloth, he couldn’t close his mouth. And the more I poured, the more waterlogged the washcloth became.

I emptied the entire bucket, listening to him gag and choke. Before I finally released him and pulled the cloth from his mouth.

“Tell me what I want to know, and this all stops.”

He spit in my face.

I wiped his spittle off with a dark chuckle. “Defiant to the last. I wish I could say that I respect your stance and loyalty. But you’re just one of Santos’s many goons. And in the end, he won’t care whether you live or die.”

“Fuck you.” He snarled.

I got in his face. “Do you know who the fuck you’re dealing with? I was a goddamn Marine. And I’m not just any run-of-the-mill bodyguard either. I’m CIA, motherfucker.”

His gaze widened at my statement. And I watched fear enter his eyes. Good. I wanted him afraid.

I brought my fist against his jaw, snapping his head back. I loosened the reins on my control, allowing my rage to bleed through into my fists. And I rained down holy hellfire upon him.

My fists connected with skin and bones. I struck his face. His windpipe. His chest. I beat him soundly until his head hung down. Blood poured from his wounds. And I considered my options for the next stage of the interrogation.

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