Page 67 of Lethal Vengeance
With a firm nod, she follows Thomas over to the armory table. It’s filled with an assortment of weapons, from knives and guns to batons and garottes.
“We have a dress and shoes,” I announce to the three men standing in front of me. “Do we have any news on Raider?”
“No, but Cruz left a message with his brother’s right-hand man,” Zane returns with a weary sigh. “Did you find schematics for the house?”
Sterling yawns, and brings up a 3D model of a large, gated home. “We’ll come in here, at the front gates, up the circular drive. There are two other visible entry points—here and here.” He points to the side- and rear- gates. “The layout of the house has been sent to all of your phones, but we can do a quick walk-through.”
“Entry is two-story with a double-sided staircase and a balcony looking down into the foyer,” he begins, tapping the model to turn it. “Study here, formal two-story living room, dining room, kitchen is toward the back, primary down. Upstairs has several bedrooms, bathrooms, and lounge areas.”
Blood money. All I want to do is burn it down. Hypocritical of me, I know, but I don’t care. I want to stand on its ashes.
Cruz’ phone rings, and we tense. He glances at the number and dips his chin. “Paulo, we have a situation here. Normally we wouldn’t call, but we believe you might want to help.” Not wanting anyone else to hear, he steps outside to talk to him.
When he returns, surprise is written all over his face. “He’s here, in Monterrey, and you’ll never guess who he had dinner with last night.”
I frown. “He’s one of the leaders who visited the facility?” The image of the three pop in my mind. There were only two men—the one with a paunch and a cold, dark-haired man. I doubt Raider’s brother has a belly.
Cruz shakes his head. “He might have an idea of where Raider’s being held. Armando talked incessantly about the beautiful horses he’s breeding on his ranch last night. Paulo’s going to call him and ask to see the horses, possibly to breed them with his. He’ll call us back.”
I drop into a chair to wait, wincing at the twinges of pain.
Sterling mutters something and stalks away. When he reappears, he’s holding a jar of the miracle cream. “Raider gave us each one. Put it on.”
Cruz’ eyes flick between Sterling and me. Wanting to keep my secrets, I grab the jar and stalk to the bathroom. After thoroughly applying the cream to my front, I realize I can’t reach my back. I’ll have to ask Margot for help.
When I open the door, Sterling is standing there waiting for me. “I’d like to help you put it on your back.”
Damn him.
Without waiting for my reply, he steps forward until I back up and let him in.
“Fine,” I snap, turning my back to him and raising my shirt. When he doesn’t immediately start, I huff and look over my shoulder.
This is the man I saw fighting in the tunnel. Gone is the warm, golden, sexy man. In its place is a hardened soldier.
His eyes meet mine. “Cruz told me you let Armando do this to you because you wanted him to believe he has power over you.” The accent is barely noticeable right now. His hand clenches into a fist. “Once. That’s all you get. Never again. Do you hear me? Truly hear me? This is never happening again.”
I flinch. “It won’t.” The decisions I made the last two years haven’t been made with me in mind, which has led to some pretty bad incidents, but this is probably one of the top five worst ones. Yet, even knowing the outcome, I would do it again.
“It better not,” he murmurs almost menacingly.
I turn around to face the wall and avoid the censure on his face. “Are you going to apply the cream, or do I need to get Margot to do it?”
A ragged breath escapes. “I’ll do it,” he snarls.
I tense.
Seconds later, warm hands stroke softly across my back. “Don’t worry. I would never hit you. Even if you push me to the brink of insanity with your decisions.”
It’s bound to happen again before this is all over. “Good to know. I would hate to have to add you to my kill list.”
“So fierce and strong, like a falcon on the hunt,” he murmurs, stepping closer to me. His lips graze the side of my ear. “All done.”
A shiver runs down my spine, but I don’t turn to face him. If I do, all my intentions will go out the proverbial window.
“Thank you,” I manage to choke out.
The door opens, and he steps out.
