Page 6 of The Players

An eye for an eye.

“No… Franco. Please, no… no…”

Franco? The word penetrated through his foggy brain like a bullet. It pierced through his rage and shattered it.

His gaze locked onto hers. Carmen’s eyes were teary, her pupils widened in terror as she clearly relived a nightmare. It was as if part of her had left the building; she wasn’t completely there.

Jesus. She was more messed up than he was.

He grabbed her wrists in one hand and put pressure on them. She gasped from the pain but refused to back down. He was barely keeping himself from strangling her.

With his other hand, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. It took a moment before her gaze refocused.

“Stop fighting me,” he growled.

“You bastard,” she spat. “What, do you feel like a man now? Blackmailing me? Hurting me?”

He loosened his grip but didn’t let her go. She was spitting mad and he’d learned at an early age that no matter the gender, you didn’t let go of a loose cannon. In fact, women were more dangerous than men when they felt threatened. He knew what a woman could do to a man—rip his heart right out of his chest, creating a monster that would devour the world.

“Stop moving or Iwillfuckinghurt you. I don’t give a shit that you’re a woman. I will break your pretty face.”

She didn’t listen. The woman was mad, which only fueled his desire to make her submit to him. Damn, her movements had an unexpected side effect, making him hard.

When she felt his growing bulge press against her belly, she went instantly still.

“Please… no…”

Sy found he hated her pleading tone. He’d rather have her feisty, trying to kick his ass.

“Don’t worry, doll face. I’m not into rape.” And then, because he was a bastard, he added, “I’m not giving you my dick before you ask for it.”

Just like that, her switch flipped to the other side of hell.

“That will never happen, asshole,” she snapped.

Oh, she sounded so crisp and proper. Then and there, he decided he would have her.

“I’ll take that bet,” he drawled.

Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed.

That’s right. Never think you can figure me out.

A familiar voice broke their stare-off. “What the hell are you doing, Sy?”

He wondered how long it would take Vince to follow after her. After all, they shared the same taste in women.

“Look at the other side of the bed,” he ground out.

Vince cursed when he saw the body. “He still breathing?”

“Dead as a doornail.” Having killed so many men, he could tell after a single look.

“I didn’t do it…”

She sounded deflated, all fight having left her body. Her eyes were staring into the distance and she hardly noticed him stepping off of her. He took position before the door, not planning on letting her get off the hook that easily. His chest ached and there were streaks of red lines marring his skin.

An eye for an eye. Always. Promise me, little brother.

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