Page 79 of Lethal Vengeance
“Five minutes,” a voice says in my ear.
“Promise me,” I repeat, staring at him.
“I promise. The best of parents.” Sterling’s arms close tightly around the sleeping boy.
I stretch up and kiss them both. “Go. And whatever happens, tell the others Armando is mine. If he kills me, then they can have him.”
Silence reigns for a minute. “Copy, Quinn.”
Knowing the attack will distract me, I slip the earpiece out and tuck it into my clutch. Maria’s blank eyes stare at me from the floor, and I kneel to close them.
“What did you do? Where’s Gabriel?”
With my back to him, I flip the silver box open and pull out the cloth. “I didn’t do this.” I kick the man lying on the floor. “He said something about you taking his son and pointed a gun at Gabriel. Maria rushed him and he shot her.”
He blanches. “Where’s Gabriel?”
“Gone. I sent him to safety,” I reply. “But he won’t be coming back.”
He bellows, an anguished sound full of pain and rage, then rushes over to me.
When he gets within two feet, I step forward and claw his cheek with one hand, while I swipe the cloth across the other.
Fingers spear themselves into my hair. “You’ll give him back to me, do you hear?” He yanks me up to my tiptoes.
Pain streaks across my head. I drop the cloth and reach for him. “Never.” With my other hand, I pull the knife from its hiding spot and slash his wrist.
He laughs. “Not sure where the hell that came from, but you’ll have to do better than that when you stab me.” With a twist of his hand, he flips me onto my back and starts walking toward the door, dragging me behind him. “I grew up on the poorest streets in Monterrey. Knife fights were a daily occurrence.”
I scramble to get my feet under me, but the damn dress keeps getting in the way. Realizing the futility of it, I twist to my side until I can see him. He’s too far away to reach with the knife in my right hand. I transfer it to my left and slash wildly at his legs.
He curses me loudly but doesn’t stop.
I start stabbing straight backwards. The tip slides into one of his legs, and he stops.
A large hand grabs for the knife, but I avoid it. The hand changes course. Grabbing a handful of my dress, he picks me up and throws me against the wall. Pain radiates down my spine, and I drop face first to the floor, plaster and dust raining down on top of me.
The plush carpet softens the landing, but it’s still jarring. His feet appear. I shove a hand under my chest and push myself up. Only to find a familiar blade pointed at me.
35
QUINN
He twirls my knife in his hand. “This is fitting, don’t you think? Nice knife. Good balance, but how does it cut?” The razor-sharp knife slices across my cheek.
Blood wells up and drips down my face. At first, it barely stings, but when the skin fully separates, it’s excruciating. Fuuuuuuck! A whimper escapes. I clench my jaw against the pain.
A piercing whistle fills the air. “No wonder you favor this one. I’d never seen one like it, so I looked it up. Its purpose is to fillet meat. I suppose you knew that when you picked it out.”
His hand whips out and slices down one arm.
Bastard.
A river of pain follows. In, out. In, out. Panting helps ride out the tidal wave of pain washing over me.
My fingers pluck wildly at my belt, while I do my best to piss him off.
“I did. One for Julio and one for you. It’s only fitting that twins share the same death, don’t you think?” I spit out.
