Page 53 of Cartel Viper (The Cartel Brotherhood #2)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Maddy

I didn’t spot Javi until I was almost at Drew.

I had no room for error, so I only looked around enough to make sure I had a clear path to him.

I was fully focused on my target. There was only one chance for me, and I had to time it exactly right.

Otherwise, he would’ve gotten the gun and the knife from me.

I’m an excellent shot, but I already knew his hands were far stronger than mine.

When he would wrap them around my wrist and squeeze, then twist, there was no way for me to keep a hold on anything I had in my hand.

I’ve learned that through plenty of experience.

I knew stabbing him wouldn’t kill him instantly, but it would be much easier to penetrate the muscles in his abdomen than trying to drive a knife through his ribs over his chest. I wanted to stun him and distract him long enough to get the gun to his temple.

I knew if I tried to shoot him as I ran toward him, he’d get off a shot that would kill me either before or at the same time as I fired my gun.

I also wanted point-blank range with no room for error when the bullet entered him.

Shooting him in the temple ensured I’d kill him.

I stare at his body as his vacant eyes look toward the heavens.

I feel like I should roll him over so he can stare down toward hell.

It only takes me a moment to come back to the present and drop both weapons.

Hands grasp my shoulders and spin me. I’m prepared to defend myself, but I know within an instant that it’s Javi. His grip is firm but not hard.

I gaze up into his whiskey-hued eyes, and the world feels better, but only for a moment.

He’s livid. I can’t blame him, but he’s pissed beyond words.

He scoops me over his shoulder and hauls me toward the house.

He says nothing to me as we pass through the back door.

He says nothing to Jorge, who I spotted right behind him.

His men hurry out of the way, and Elle steps aside when Javi stops at the sink and grabs a towel, soaking half of it.

He hands it back to me, and I scrub my face.

I don’t know how Elle found clothes, but she hands fresh ones to Javi.

We pass through the rest of the kitchen into the living room.

He keeps going until we get to the basement door.

He carries me downstairs to the room I was in with Elle.

The room I should’ve remained in but eventually abandoned.

I’m trying to work through the story I’ll tell Javi.

It’ll be the truth—but likely selective.

He doesn’t quite drop me on the ground, but he’s none too gentle as he lowers me.

I glance at the clothes he holds, and I know I need to change.

He has to dispose of the ones with Drew’s blood.

I hurry, then he presses my shoulder, silently instructing me to sit.

I don’t expect him to draw my hands behind my back, but he does.

He holds my wrists together, and I’m certain this isn’t kinky foreplay.

I watch him reach into his pocket as he continues to lean over me.

Before I realize what’s happening, there’s a zip tie around my wrists.

Then he’s doing the same to my ankles using some kind of combination of four of them.

He picks up the towel I dropped, along with the soiled clothes, and is surprisingly gentle as he finishes wiping my face and neck.

“Madeline, you will stay put. If you move even an inch from this spot, I swear to all that is holy, you will not sit down ever again. I will spank your ass raw.”

He says nothing else to me before leaving the room.

The look he gave me while he issued that warning made my blood run cold.

I don’t fear him hurting me. That’s not what causes my trepidation.

I know he would never hurt me. I’m certain in his mind, keeping me here is the only way to ensure I won’t endanger myself again. I can’t blame him for feeling that way.

No, the look in his eyes makes me fear we’re through, that what I did is too unforgivable in his eyes.

I knew he’d be furious if and when he found out or if he saw me, but I didn’t imagine he would end things with me.

More fool am I for being that naive. It wasn’t naivety that made me go out there.

It wasn’t a lack of considering all the things that could go wrong.

I thought through my actions, and it wasn’t a heat of the moment decision. I doubt Javi will believe me when I try to explain, but it’ll be the truth. Perhaps he’ll believe my explanation, but I doubt there’s any way he would agree with my rationale.

The minutes tick by, and I have no idea how long I’ve been down here alone.

It’s felt both interminable and far too quick when I hear the door open, then see him step through.

If he’s going to end this, then I’m in no rush.

But if he’ll listen to my explanation, then I want to be able to tell him my reasoning.

He’s still not speaking to me as he cuts the bindings from my wrists and ankles.

He helps me to my feet. I don’t open my mouth, but he still shoots me a warning glare that keeps me silent.

As we head outside, I realize there aren’t any bodies in the house or in the yard like there were earlier.

I look around, but I don’t spot Elle anywhere.

I don’t know if she’s upstairs or if she already left.

I do wonder what they did with Drew. I watched her take out Timmy just as I came upstairs.

So much for him being a rising star. He didn’t make it through the first ten minutes of this mission.

We continue in silence as Javi takes me to his car.

I wonder where we’re headed. I figure it must be back to Enrique and Elle’s house, which is only five minutes away without any detours or high-speed chases.

I get in the car after he opens the door for me.

His silence is nerve-wracking, and I want to demand he stop sulking and speak to me.

But if he’s not talking, then he’s not breaking up with me.

I dart glances at him from the corner of my eye, and I can tell he’s far calmer than he was earlier.

I don’t know if he’s remaining quiet because he doesn’t trust himself to speak, or if the silent treatment is part of my punishment.

It’s not so much him refusing to give me attention but knowing my imagination must be running wild.

It surprises me when we go past the turn for Enrique and Elle’s neighborhood and get on the road to head back into Manhattan.

We must be headed to his place. It’s a solid forty-five minutes of silence.

Once I know for certain he isn’t going to talk to me, I rest back in my seat with my eyes closed as I let him drive us into the city.

We pull into his underground parking garage, and I look over at him.

I assume even though he’s pissed at me, the same rules apply.

I don’t get out of the car until he comes around to let me out.

We enter the elevator with another couple.

He maneuvers us so our backs are against the rear wall.

He’s positioned to step in front of me and shield me if needed.

I don’t think he’s doing that purely out of a romantic sentiment for me.

He would do that regardless for any woman.

His fingers brush against mine. I don’t pull away, but I expect him to.

Instead, his hand slips into mine, and he entwines our fingers.

We ride up to the other couple’s floor in silence.

They must not know who he is because we stop at a floor we’re not getting off at.

He had to hit something on the panel, but now he enters his biometric pass code.

We continue up to the penthouse. The moment we’re in his place, he doesn’t quite slam his door, but it certainly doesn’t close quietly. He grabs my upper right arm and yanks me back against him. He spins me until he can box me in against the door. Then his mouth is on mine.

His kiss is demanding.

It’s overwhelming.

It fills every bit of my senses.

The way our noses press against each other, there’s no finesse to this.

I can barely breathe, but it continues on without any mercy.

His hands roam over me touching as much of me as he can.

His right hand yanks at the waistband of my pants.

His hand drops beneath the material, and he thrusts his fingers into my pussy.

His other hand goes up my shirt and yanks down my bra.

He pinches my nipples hard enough to make me whimper.

He doesn’t ease up even though he knows how much it hurts.

He won’t harm me. He would never harm me, but he definitely commands me.

He doesn’t stop me from running my hands over him as well.

I want to touch every bit of him that I can.

I have no idea what he was doing while I was locked in the basement.

I assume organizing his men to clean up the mess left behind.

I know his fingers are toying with me. He has no intention of letting me come, but it still makes me whimper again.

When he pulls them free, I clutch his shirt, hoping I can keep him near me, but he steps back.

He still isn’t talking when he leads me to the sofa. I squeak as he pulls me onto his lap.

I’m unprepared for the tender kisses he places across my cheeks and the tip of my nose. I remain quiet, letting him take the lead because I can tell he’s still sorting through his thoughts. I won’t rush him.