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Herrera’s steps were slow, calculated, the silence thickening with every shift of his boots. Predatory. Deliberate. Enjoying the show.
Dagger’s fists clenched tighter in his cuffs.
Herrera circled her like a wolf, his gaze raking over her with dark amusement. He flicked a look toward Langford, who watched from the shadows with a feverish gleam in his eyes, lips parted, hungry for chaos.
“This is his woman?” Herrera asked, a smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Yeah,” Langford said, jerking his thumb toward Dagger, who ground his teeth until his jaw ached. “Ramos killed her husband. She’s his sister-in-law.”
Herrera chuckled and crouched beside Quinn, fingers drifting toward her hair, brushing it from her face in mock tenderness.
She jerked away, her lips curling in pure disgust.
Flash’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp, clipped. “Your cousin died like a dog in the dirt, brought down by a fucking fierce woman. You’ll go the same way.”
Herrera’s gaze darkened. He flicked his fingers toward the rebel hovering behind Flash.
The man drew his blade and plunged it into Flash’s side.
Flash grunted, the sound low and tight. His body jerked, but he didn’t fall. He brought his bound hands over the wound, blood welling fast between his fingers.
His face barely changed, but his eyes were steel and full of fire.
Dagger lunged instinctively, rage snapping loose, but the guards on either side held him back, muscling him down again.
Herrera’s voice stayed smooth. “Where was I?” He turned toward Quinn, lips curling. “Ah, yes. This pretty little morsel. Let’s see how longshelasts.”
Dagger saw it coming a second too late, saw the gleam in Herrera’s eyes, meant for him, not her. A weaponized act of dominance, meant to shatter him.
Then Herrera ripped Quinn’s blouse open, fabric tearing, leaving her in a black lace bra.
Her breath caught, shock, fury, humiliation,but she didn’t cry out.
Dagger’s vision tunneled. His heartbeat became a war drum in his ears. Something inside him snapped so loud he thought the others must have heard it.
A low, primal growl tore from his throat and he surged up from his knees, dragging both guards with him, bound fists raised like battering rams.
But they slammed him down again, one driving a forearm across his throat. Another pressed a blade to his neck, steel biting skin.
Next to him, Flash shifted, breathing ragged. His eyes flicked toward the nearest window, then to Dagger.
“Keep it cool,” he muttered hoarsely. “She’scoming.” His voice was thin with pain, but the meaning behind it was razor-sharp.
Lechuza.
Was that the beat of an owl’s wings, wide in flight, silent and swift, ready to descend on the filth beneath her? Thatwasan owl’s job. Take out vermin. Flash could feel it. Dagger did too.
He drew a slow breath, fury pulling taut beneath the surface, but he nodded once, steady.
Maybe it took an owl to flip this goatfuck on its furry ass.
Herrera looked to one of his men, a younger rebel with a crooked nose and a cruel smirk. A silent nod. The man stepped forward, slow, leering, eyes raking over Quinn’s body.
“No,” Dagger ground out, voice low and lethal. Even Flash moved only to be kicked back down.
Herrera’s eyes gleamed. “Oh yes. I like to watch the breaking. You can’t stop this. You have no power here.”
The man circled around her, and she couldn’t mask the horror on her face. She pulled her gaze away from the rebel, frantically searching for him. “Nothing they do to me will ever change how I feel about you.” The rebel looked over at him, his taunting gaze full of lecherous menace as he hefted his crotch. Dropping to one knee in front of Quinn, he ran his fingers up her ribcage.