Page 54 of Lethal Vengeance
“Your father sucks. Come to think of it, Cruz’ and Zane’s fathers suck, too. And I think Sterling got a good and bad one, right? It’s a terrible thing to have in common.”
He squeezes my hand. “I never really thought about it, but I guess we do.”
I reach over his body and grab the pillow to place it behind our backs and make us more comfortable. Laying my head on his broad shoulder, I tuck myself in tight and wait.
“Tell me a story about a good father,” he urges, thumb stroking back and forth across my hand.
“I was lucky enough to get two good fathers, although I didn’t think so at the time,” I chuckle, remembering the moment my mother told me she was marrying Roberto. “I’d always been a daddy’s girl. When I lost my father, I was devastated. About a year after he died, my mother started dating Roberto. Angry at this massive betrayal, and convinced she was just lonely, I drafted a master plan to chase him away.”
“You do seem to be a very focused individual,” he comments, laughter in his voice. “What was in this master plan?”
I fake cough. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” I return with a smile. “Every good plan begins with research. I went to the library and read every book they had on pranks and made a list of the most effective ones. I drew my battle lines and waged war with the tools at my disposal. I replaced his sugar with salt, let the air out of his tires, wiped my sticky sucker on all the handles in his bathroom, toilet papered his car, dug up worms to put in his bed…”
When I get to the worms, laughter bursts out of me until I can barely breathe. Tears flow from the corner of my eyes. Every time I try to speak, I see the earthworms crawling across the sheets.
After several minutes, I manage to get a hold of myself. “Long story short, he put up with every single prank I pulled on him and even managed to get a few over me, too. After six months of war, I gave up. My mother married him the next month. He was a remarkable man and a great father to me and Sophia.”
It’s been a long time since I told that story, and I can’t keep the grin off my face. When I look over, Raider’s staring at me with an utterly fascinated look on his face.
“What?”
“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he says gruffly. “While the laughter still lingers on your lips and in your eyes.”
Swiping my tongue across my lips in anticipation, I lean forward.
His lips meet mine. Expecting to be consumed by his kiss, I’m surprised by the tenor of it. It’s a reflection of this moment—playfully light one second and serious the next. It’s a memory in the making, reminiscent of both the past and an unknown future. Unhurried, but firm, it makes me want to delve into the secrets that make up the man behind the kiss.
His lips leave mine, and all I want is more. So much more I can’t breathe. Does he feel the same, or is it just me? Wordlessly, I stare up at him. He’s infinitely more dangerous than I thought.
“Now, you know,” he says firmly.
26
QUINN
The clanging of the door slamming against the bars wakes me. My eyes flick to the opening and find Armando practically foaming at the mouth. I slowly get to my feet.
“What is she doing in the cell with him?” he asks softly, his dark eyes darting to the soldier beside him.
The young man stammers out a reply, informing him about the missing key.
Armando frowns. “Strip him of his uniform and put him in with the laborers. Maybe some time spent working in the coca fields will teach him some discipline,” he orders the other man behind him. “Come.” His hand motions me forward.
The wood cot cracks where Raider grips the edge, but he doesn’t move. We spoke about this earlier. It needs to happen. Armando must believe he calls all the shots. Raider’s ice-blue eyes hold mine, anger and promise in their depths. I nod and walk out of the cell behind Armando.
The room we enter isn’t on Sterling’s 3D rendering is the first thought I have walking into the space. I’ll have to let him know so he can update it.
Dark grey tiles line the walls and floor, and a big drain sits in the center. Lovely. This is the fun room.
“You stipulated the requirements. One hundred and seventeen women must be accounted for in this facility. I met your terms,” I recite unemotionally, turning to face the man at my back.
His backhand knocks me off my feet.
From the cold tile floor, I peer up at him. A calm and collected Armando stands above me. Disappointed, I push myself to my feet only to get knocked down with the same move.
Unoriginal bastard, I muse.
“Fortunately for you, I have to be at a dinner tonight,” he announces, satisfaction in his voice. “Things are progressing quite nicely. And since you did play a part in my success, I won’t let Hugo rough you up too much. After all, we’re celebrating with a party in two nights. As my guest of honor, it’s imperative you attend.” He snaps his fingers.
