Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I clench my teeth. Fuck the goddamn cartel and their friends.
Fuck all of them.
“Yeah, it’s coming back to me.”
“Good, it better be fucking coming back to you!” She glares at me, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Starla, language,” Eden says, obviously not happy with her sister’s mouth. “Will you please calm down?”
“I’ll calm down when you guys give me a basin of warm water and soap, a washcloth and towel, and an arsenal of medications. We’re standing around here wasting time, pretending he doesn’t know who I am, which is ridiculous.”
“Starla—”
“I don’t care what kind of medication they have him on or if he sustained head trauma from a blunt object, he knows who I am, and if he doesn’t now, he sure as hell will soon. He’s in obvious need of medical attention but noooo, we have to make sure he isn’t ‘compromised.’” Eden flinches at her air quotes as if she’s physically slapped Sergio. “Okay, whatever, get your team in here, make sure they haven’t embedded a stupid chip in his ass or whatever.” Her voice cracks. “That’s my best friend on that table come back from the dead and wild horses won’t hold me back.”
I turn away and draw in a deep breath. Eyes water for a lot of reasons, right?
Six years earlier
We entered a warehouse constructed of concrete. A holding house, of sorts, that smelled faintly of soured milk and body odor.
We had intel that said Starla was here.
Her captors, the elders of the fellowship who were under the protection and pay of the cartel, moved her here as an intimidation tactic. It was really Sergio’s wife Eden they were after. We came as one, the men of the Montavio Brotherhood and our cousins the Rossis, and now we’d located who we were after.
I’d never met Starla. All I knew was that she was Eden’s younger sister. That she’d been held in captivity and brainwashed, like Eden. And I knew she was being held inside.
A door opened. The light was dim, but I’d know my older brother’s stature and profile anywhere. Sergio walked behind Eden, their voices in whispers, and he was carrying someone…
When I drew closer, I cursed under my breath, and held back my need to rage and curse those motherfuckers who hurt her. I didn’t want to wake her. The girl Sergio carried was unconscious and waking her up to relive whatever the fuck she went through would be a crime.
Long, long hair, tangled but a soft and lovely blonde, hid a thin but impish face. I wanted to brush that hair off her face. Give her clean, soft clothing. Fling open these goddamn doors and bring in sunshine to kiss her too-pale face. Feed her good food and clean water.
Take her to a place where no one would ever hurt her again.
Find the people that hurt her and exact the type of revenge worthy of a crime like this.
Sergio held Starla as if she were fine china and one false move would break her. Eden laid her hand atop Starla’s, her eyes watering.
“She's unconscious, but she's alive.”
My cousin Mario took one look at Starla and cursed under his breath. "Who the fuck would do something like this? Would take a fucking monster." He shook his head.
"Definitely a monster," Sergio agreed. “Maybe several.”
I gave Sergio and Eden a chilling smile, masking the raging fury that thrummed through my blood and blurred my vision. I clenched a fist to quell my temper.
"How convenient," I said in a voice that promised violence. “I love hunting monsters."
Something about my current circumstance, laying on a goddamn stretcher in the middle of who-knows-where while Starla paces outside this room waiting to get in, reminds me of the first day I met her.
She was only a kid, but the fact that she was only a kid fueled a rage in me I’d never felt before.
I hardly had an idyllic childhood. Hell, if I gave enough of a shit to see a shrink, they’d probably have fuck all to say about what I went through and what I battle now. I’m not above admitting I was wounded and scarred and whatever the fuck. But the loveless home I was raised in? The expectations of perfection and constant comparisons to my older brothers who were smarter, faster, better at anything I could possibly do just by virtue of being older than me… fucking paled in comparison to the absolute horror Starla experienced.
I want to see her, alone.
I want them to leave us, so the two of us can reconnect and catch up and go back to the way things were.
But even that’s too much to want because I know the consequences. I know what’s on the line.
Even Sergio doesn’t let Starla in the room when they do a full body search on me. I let them. I’d do the same if the situation were reversed.