Page 22 of Savage Sin

I stand and smother my smoke out in a tray. “Your father dead is all I want,” I say frankly, with no remorse or care for her feelings.

Lashes fall over her cheeks. She’s not going to last much longer before exhaustion takes her under again. “You’re too late.” Her voice is weak, but their meaning has me turning my full body toward her. My soul goes quiet.

“What do you mean?”

Serious eyes peel off the tattoos on my arms long enough to hit me with a nuclear bomb.

“He’s already dead. So whoever you think killed your brother, I promise you, it wasn’t him. And I can’t tell you where he is because they scattered his ashes back in Colombia. Why do you want him dead, anyway?”

“He murdered my brother.”

“Well, it wasn’t him. Trust me.” She tests the binding again. And just like last time, they hold.

“If not your father, then who was it?”

When her mouth stops moving, I brush a finger down her cheek. “Who?” I ask again when her eyes peel open at my touch. A hundred questions hit me from the depths of those pretty eyes and I can’t blame her for wanting to know why I am being gentle when I threaten her with torture. I want to know too.

“My step-father,” she finally offers. “His son? An enforcer? Really, who knows? There’s an endless list to pick from. If your brother was running with my family, he probably earned a grave.”

“Step-father?” I pull my phone out and pull up Seth’s name. I haven’t heard of any exchange of power among the cartels. Then again, I wasn’t paying much attention to all the rambling my brother did when he secretly patched into the brotherhood a few months back. I was too focused on all the bullets flying at my head from Ares’ family.

I should have paid closer attention.

I shoot off a text to Seth and then another to someone who’s known to have an ear to the ground and fingers to the pulse of information flowing through the underworld of crime.

“When did this happen?”

A heavy sigh, but no answer.

“Persephone.” Her expression softens with sleep, but the fists she makes are telling. And then she gives me a single finger salute. The threat of torture does next to nothing to persuade her. I sure the fuck don’t scare her. What has she gone through to desensitize her to danger? What has she experienced to make losing her toes and fingers seem like a normal day? I need to know more about her.

“What is with the rounds of twenty-twenty? I’m so tired. If you are going to kill me, just get it over with.”

I fight a smile at her bravery. My fingers close around her neck and I tighten my fingers and that gets her attention.

“When did your step-father take over?”

She lifts a lash. “A year. Maybe. I’ve lost track of time here and there and I haven’t looked at too many calendars recently.” She turns her head away from me.

I consider her silently. I’m not good at being gentle, but this woman has me wanting to peel back her many layers to see what the fuck has put that shroud of sorrow over her aura. One minute she is ready to fight me and the next she appears defeated.

I turn to leave the room before I actually untie the fucking woman and let her go.

“You won’t be able to kill Cortes. Many have tried, whoever you are, and he’s still terrorizing humanity. Good luck. You’ll need it when you meet God and he won’t let you into Heaven.”

I stop by the door and lift a shoulder. “God and I understand each other. Your step-father, on the other hand, is about to learn how to fear hell.”

“If you can find him.”

Her challenge hangs around my neck like a noose that will tighten at any moment. “I will.”

Her gaze flicks to mine. “You’re annoyingly optimistic. Mind telling me how?”

My grin reflects my resolve. “I have you.”

Six

Persephone

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