Bile churns in my stomach at the title he just gave Sloane, but I can’t say a word about it. I pretty much just called her that myself when I said she was my plus one. I want to plant my fist firmly in his face, but instead I say, “Sorry, Julio. My mistake. I was supposed to pick her up, remember. She must have come looking for me.”
Julio shakes his head at me, mouth hanging open. “That was very inconsiderate, mi amigo.”
“I know. Apologies, brother. I didn’t think.” There is no way he’s gonna fucking buy this. He knows I’m not that completely, utterly, astonishingly stupid. You don’t give this address to anyone. No one. Especially not some girl you wanna fuck. You blindfold them and lead them here in the trunk of a fucking car, making sure to drive in circles to confuse the hell out of them first.
Andreas appears at Julio’s shoulder, tense with fury. Jaw working, Julio looks like he’s come to some sort of decision. “Get her inside,” he snaps, staring straight through me. “Bring her to the study. It’s only polite that you introduce me to your friend.”
“Julio!”
Andreas’s objection is pre-empted and cut short with a raised hand from his boss. Julio turns and stabs a finger into the other man’s chest. “Open the fucking gate, Andreas,” he hisses.
Andreas looks like he’s been sucker punched. He does as he’s told though, and unlocks the gate. As soon it’s open I shove through and grab Sloane by the arm, pulling her back toward the dusty beast of a car she’s rolled up in.
“I’ll drive her in,” I snap over my shoulder. And then to her, more quietly, “Get in the goddamn car.” She’s white as a sheet but she does as she’s told. I get in the driver’s side, allowing myself the luxury of slamming my fist against the wheel before I start the engine. Sloane jumps, gasping.
“You need to let me—” she begins. I gun the engine so loud it screams. She takes the hint and shuts the hell up.
“I don’t need to let you anything, Sloane,” I growl. “Listen to me. Listen fucking good. You’re here as my guest to attend a meeting in two days’ time. You’re a stupid, airhead slut who knows nothing about my business dealings, Charlie, your sister, or Lacey. The only thing you do know is that you like fucking me. You got that?” She opens her mouth, indignation showing itself in the sharp flash of her eyes. Before she can breathe a word, I drive the car into the compound and slam the thing into park beside the Camaro. The others haven’t made their way to the car yet, but they’re only a few seconds away.
“I’m fucking serious, Sloane. You want either of us to get out of here alive, you’ll do as I tell you.”
“I’m not some whore—” she starts.
“Yes, you are. Right now you’re worse than a whore because you’re not even getting paid for this. You’re doing it for the thrill alone. You hear me? If you don’t do this, we’re both fucking dead.”
Her cheeks turn a pasty grey color. “Alright.”
I barely get a chance to breathe a sigh of relief. The doors to the car open from the outside and Julio stands waiting for me on the driver’s side, mouth drawn into a tight line. Andreas grabs hold of Sloane, digging his fingers roughly into the skin of her arm, pulling her forcefully out of the passenger side. His dirty fucking hands are all over her as she straightens up. Legs, hips, stomach, arms. He pats her down, palms purposefully grazing her breasts. A red light descends over my vision. Oh hell, no, he did not just…
He did. He fucking did!
That.
Is.
Fucking.
It.
I leap out and charge around the other side of the car, finally boiling over. “You did not just fucking drag that girl out of the car!” I roar. Andreas’s hand reaches for his gun, but he doesn’t move quick enough. My fist makes a satisfying crunch as it impacts with his cheekbone. Shouts in Spanish go up all around us as bodies crowd in. No good though; Andreas drops like a sack of rocks and I’m on top of him, fists raining down left, right, left, right, hitting him as hard as I can. I’m gripped by an urge so powerful that I’m fucked if I care to do anything other than obey it. Hands tear at me, but they don’t do any good. I’m too intent on pounding Andreas’s head into the dirt.
“Zeth!” The outraged yell finally stays my hands. Julio waits beside Sloane, eyes wide with disbelief. “The woman is fine! You’re fucking gonna kill one of my best men over a fucking bruise?”
“I’ll kill him for daring to breathe the same air as her,” I gasp, my chest heaving. “I’ll kill him just for looking at her wrong.”
Julio just shakes his head, astonished. He gestures one of his other men toward Andreas, still reeling from what I’ve done. “Get him to the basement.” He turns and walks slowly back inside the villa, leaving me and Sloane outside. Alone with fourteen armed and very angry Mexicans.
We didn’t speak with Julio last night. The man seemed totally shell-shocked from my arrival, the gunshots, and then Zeth nearly bludgeoning someone to death with his bare hands. He’d immediately vanished, leaving Zeth to drag me through the sporadically lit hallways of the Spanish-style villa, toward a bedroom that smelled distinctly like him. He’d shoved me inside, followed after, locked the door and then placed a chair beneath the handle like in the movies. Following that he’d ripped off his clothes down to his boxers, angrily throwing them onto the ground, climbed into the huge king-sized bed in the center of the room and promptly fallen straight to sleep.