Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
On a separate but kind of similar note, my brother isn’t stupid at all. He just handed me a gift and it wasn’t an accident. I now get to answer Miguel’s raised eyebrow.
“He was kidding about burying bodies for me,” I say. “Mostly.”
Miguel snorts. “Neither one of you buries bodies. That’s not how your badge works.”
“You’ve never quite gotten the memo about me, now, have you? I see dead people. Not all of them were like that when I met them.”
“I’m so scared,” Miguel says. “I’m shaking in my boots.” He laughs. “Like I said, you have rules. I do not.”
“See, this is how I end up killing people. They’re just too stupid to live. Thank God, I have a boss who knows that, much like Dexter, who called his dark side his Dark Passenger, I too have my very own Dark Passenger. And he likes it. He actually seems to prefer when I clean up the trash for him.”
“The worst part about that statement,” Andrew replies, “is it’s true. You do have a Dexter-like Dark Passenger. Holy hell. You do. And to think I once thought that side of you was all about Kane. You need therapy, Sis.”
I could tell my brother to put a sock in his mental breakdown, but he made a good point. “It is all about Kane,” I say. “At least to Miguel. That’s why he had Kane’s chopper tampered with. That’s why he tried to kill him. He’s tired of it all being about Kane.” There is a heavy beat of shock in the air as if I’ve said what the men have wanted to say but did not dare.
“If I wanted Kane dead,” he bristles, and adds, “he’d be dead.”
“Oh, you want him dead,” I reply. “Of that, there is no question. And as flawed as your plan might be tonight, and it is flawed, you decided to even the playing field. Kane intrudes into your world. You want him to see how easily you can intrude on his. That’s why you tried to kill my father tonight. He’s well-guarded and if not for Kane, he’d be dead. That effort, this confrontation, it’s all about sending a message to Kane that nothing is sacred and there are no rules in war.”
“Is that true?” Andrew demands, and he steps toward Miguel.
I grab his arm and thank fuck, he halts. Dumbass brother, protecting the honor of our father, who would rather see us die than give up power. A badge and honor can sometimes make the holder, aka my brother, act on those things in a way that reads as dumb and blind, which is a good way to get dead and gone.
I’m the only one who gets to kill my brother, and the look I level on Miguel says as much.
His lips curve and the look in his eyes is pure devious. “Emotional, isn’t he?”
Andrew murmurs something nasty to him in Spanish –yes, he too, knows Spanish but prefers to keep that detail under wraps. It’s a skill, if unknown to others, that can be rather informative. What people don’t know can be used against them. In summary, though, Andrew has just told Miguel he will make him pay for what he has done in the nastiest words I’ve ever heard my brother speak.
Hand me the soap and water, the choir boy is in trouble.
Miguel’s lips quirk at Andrew’s graphic vow. He’s amused and nothing more. “You’re la raza now,” he reminds Andrew. “Family. We are bonded by your sister and my nephew. Don’t forget it.”
He glances at me. “Tell my hombrecito, Kane.” Hombrecito meaning “little man.” “Uncle Miguel said hello.” He turns to walk away, giving me his back, dismissing any danger I might represent.
If I let him walk away, he looks strong, Kane looks weak, like the “little man” and both me and Andrew look like easy targets. I don’t need to think any harder. Now is the time I test his men’s loyalty because I’m about to give them a reason to act against me and for Miguel. I reach for my purse and my knife is in my palm, in the open, in an instant. And anyone who knows me well knows what happens when I hold a knife.
Chapter Two
The blade I hold in my delicate little hands—everyone knows “delicate” describes me to a tee—is nice and shiny, not to mention sharper than even my tongue. In other words, it’s lethal. And as much as I love a good lethal blade, I’d prefer my firearm right about now. It’s easier to handle multiple targets. But it’s under my skirt, and if I show these men my underwear, I’ll have to kill them. Not that I’m not willing to kill them all, but considering not one of them stopped me from retrieving my weapon, I’m not sure that’s how this has to end.