Page 67 of Brutal Enforcer

Jesus sneered at me, and it was even uglier now that his face was a mess. “Would you say that to my cousin,La Bestia?”

I had to laugh. “I offered her Luis Rojas’s head on a platter, if she wanted it…I got laid after, so you can take that however you want.”

“But where is she now?” he demanded.

“Why would I tellyouthat?”

His sneer became a cruel smirk; it was made monstrous by the sharp bend of his nose. “She’s gone, isn’t she? She realized that she was with a monster, and she left you.”

I had to return to the compound for Angel; it was my duty to my family and to my brother. But it didn’t mean that there wasn’t a burning in my chest. I’d sent her away for her own good, so that she could have her freedom, but every part of me had wanted to just sayfuck itand go with her.

Jesus seemed to smell my weakness. “I’m here to bring back the head ofLa Bestia,” he declared, like some sort of villain in a drama. “The head of the Rojas family wants it for his wall.”

“Luis can come collect it himself.”

Jesus shook his head. “Our leader doesn’t need to lower himself to the likes ofyou. That’s what he has loyal men for.”

I scoffed. “Proud of that, are you? To be some lackey that gets sent out on suicide missions.”

“It’snotsuicide,pendejo. First, I’m going to take you on, and then I’m going after your bitch. We have unfinished business with her.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by “we.” Luis sent Jesus to kill her and blame it on my brother, but even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try that again. Would he? There was no point in it: I’d told Angel everything. The Castillos were on the alert now; they wouldn’t allow themselves to be caught off guard.

More likely, it was Jesus who had a score to settle with Lyse because he failed in his mission. If Luis was anything like Gustavo — and I had reason to believe he was — I doubted that the man tolerated failure well. If I hadn’t broken his face, Luis might have killed Jesus over it.

“You want my head for your precious boss?” I asked, tired of the whole thing. “Come and get it.”

Jesus pulled a 9mm from a holster on his shoulder, and I had just enough time to duck behind the wall before he shot at me.You don’t have a gun, I reminded myself. I had to get the gun away from him if I hoped to have a chance. Jesus wasn’t as good with his fists as I was, that was for damn sure, but it wouldn’t matter if he could put a bullet in my forehead from twenty feet away.

“Don’t run scared now,La Bestia,” Jesus taunted, but he did exactly what I wanted and followed me.Idiota. He could have shot at me from a distance, but I figured he’d want to be able to gloat over his prey.

He wasn’t truly watching as he came down the hall, and he wasn’t prepared for me to strike from an alcove. I didn’t get as good a jump on him as I wanted, but Iwasable to knock the gun from his hand and kick it toward the door.

Jesus let out a bellow of anger, and instead of going for his gun, which would have been the smarter choice, he turned on me. He threw his weight at me, and we tussled back down the hallway, raining blows on each other. He tried to grab for my throat, but I was able to get my arm between us.

I blocked strike after strike, evaded his grip, but I wasn’t making progress either. I wasn’t inflicting damage like I knew I could. It should be easy for me to get a hand on him, break his bones or snap his neck, but he was able to work out of my grasp just as often as I could.

Jesus bashed my head against the wall, and dazed, I almost didn’t catch sight of the knife that he took from his back pocket. He sliced at me and got my arm instead of my face. The pain was immediate and sharp, but I ignored it.

I was in survival mode; I wasn’t fighting for bloodlust or revenge, and it was making me slow.Get your shit together, I urged myself, but it was like fighting through syrup. Jesus made to stab me again, and I caught his arm and pushed him away.

We fought our way down the hall and spilled into the living room. I was on the defensive, throwing furniture in his way, but I didn’t strike back. “Come on!” Jesus urged. “Where is the man who nearly beat me to death on the beach, huh? Where’s the man who slaughtered my family?” My back hit the wall as he struck at me, and I caught the blade before he could sink it into my stomach. “I want to fightLa Bestia,” he spat in my face. “I want the monster.”

The tip of the blade dragged up the length of my torso as he jerked upward. It sliced my shirt and bit into my skin, and I could feel my shirt soak with blood. Jesus looked down at it, and his face went ashen, like he was shocked with himself. “Your trainingsucks. You barely nicked me. I thought you wanted my head! Are you going to throw up if you’re actually able to do it?”

“Fuck you!”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You’re nothing but a scared little boy doing whatever your uncle says.”

“The head of the Rojas family is going to take us to greater heights than even the Castillos can imagine.”

I scoffed. “Luis Rojas couldn’t handle killing a scared, untrained woman on his own. He sent a shit-poor excuse for an assassin and lost his only chance to get in good with my father while he was still in power because he botched the job so entirely. He’s not leading anyone anywhere.”

Jesus jerked, and I felt the blade against my throat. My muscles froze up, and I held perfectly still. If I moved now, I’d end up slicing my own carotid.

CHAPTER35

Lyse

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